Page 52 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

“Because I know.”

“You don't act like it.”

Elliot rolled onto his back. The ceiling beams disappeared into darkness above them.

“I don't like him.”

“Clearly.”

“He wants you.”

“So?”

Elliot turned his head.

“So?”

Ronan looked completely serious. Something ugly stirred.

“You really don't understand why that bothers me?”

“I understand.”

“Doesn't sound like it.”

“Understanding and agreeing aren't the same thing.”

Elliot looked back at the ceiling. Ronan shifted beside him.

“Elliot.”

“What?”

“You trust me?”

“Yes.”

Immediate. That part was easy.

“Then trust me.”

Elliot frowned. Trust Ronan. Of course he trusted Ronan. That wasn't the problem. The problem was everyone else. People wanted things. They pushed. They lied. They waited for weaknesses. Sometimes they took what didn't belong to them simply because nobody stopped them. Elliot understood people. He'd spent most of his life studying them without ever thinking of it as studying. The way someone's voice changed when they wanted approval. The way their eyes moved toward whatever they desired before they admitted desiring it. Dylan looked at Ronan like he remembered touching him. Elliot hated that.

“I'm trying,” Elliot said.

Ronan was quiet. Then his fingers brushed Elliot's hair away from his forehead.

“I know.”

That almost made it worse. Elliot closed his eyes. Ronan kissed his temple. Tenderness always landed strangely after intensity. Elliot could handle possession. Tenderness made him feel exposed. His phone vibrated on the nightstand. He ignored it. It vibrated again. Ronan groaned.

“Your fan club.”

“Jealous?”

“Deeply.”

Elliot reached for the phone. Claire.