Page 211 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

“Trust me.”

“I’m trying.”

“No. You’re trying to prove you should trust me.”

“That’s not the same thing?”

“No.”

Ronan laughed without humor.

“Then explain the difference.”

Elliot folded his arms.

“Trust is believing me before you have proof.”

“And blind trust is how people get hurt.”

There. Again. Elliot looked away. Ronan dragged both hands over his face.

“This is impossible.”

“Apparently.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you want.”

“Nothing.”

Ronan almost laughed. That word. Again. Elliot walked toward the stairs.

“Where are you going?”

He stopped. Slowly turned. The expression on his face made Ronan regret the question before Elliot spoke.

“My room.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know exactly what you meant.”

“Elliot.”

“Second floor. First door on the left.”

“Fuck off.”

“Gladly.”

He went upstairs. The bedroom door closed. Not slammed. Somehow worse. Ronan stayed downstairs. He didn’t follow. For once. At 6:52, Dylan’s mother called him. Ronan stared at the unfamiliar number until voicemail picked up. Then she called again. He answered.

“Hello?”

“Ronan?”

The voice was already breaking. His stomach dropped.

“Yes.”