Page 127 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

“That's not what I asked.”

Ronan leaned back.

“Would I confirm it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Answer.”

Ronan stared. Elliot held his gaze. Finally:

“If I had to.”

Something hot moved through Elliot's chest.

“Had to.”

“I wouldn't volunteer it.”

“But you'd tell them.”

“I'm not going to lie in a murder investigation about something they can prove later.”

Elliot looked away.

“That bothers you?” Ronan asked.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it's ours.”

The answer left before Elliot could edit it. Ronan went quiet. Elliot stared through the window. The word remained between them. Ours. Not secret. Not shameful. Ours. There were pieces of Ronan that belonged to everyone. His parents. Friends. Professors. Dylan. The fucking world. Their relationship wasn't one of them. That belonged inside locked doors. Inside Ronan's bedroom. Inside the carriage house after midnight. It belonged in bruises beneath clothing and texts nobody else read and the soft way Ronan said Elliot's name when he wasn't trying to sound annoyed. Police had no right to it. Claire had no right. Dylan definitely had no right. Nobody. Ronan reached across the island. His fingers closed around Elliot's wrist.

“Hey.”

Elliot looked down at the hand.

“It's still ours.”

“They know.”

“So?”

“So that changes it.”

“No.”

“It does.”

Ronan tightened his grip.

“Only if we let it.”

Elliot looked up. Ronan's face had gone serious.