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Ronan made a move to get up but I leaned forward and grabbed his arm. I settled my hand on the now rigid muscles of his abdomen.
“Is it when anyone tries to offer you comfort or just me?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Ronan
My hands were shaking so hard that it took me three tries to get the door leading from the kitchen to the patio unlocked and open. The cool night air should have felt good against my skin but it didn’t. Nothing felt good. I didn’t even have the aftereffects of my mind-numbing orgasm to take the edge off, because every ounce of pleasure that had still been rolling through my body as I’d pulled free of Seth’s tight body had been obliterated when he’d touched me…and when he’d given voice to one of my darkest secrets.
A few of the men I’d tied up and fucked after Trace died had had the balls to tell me the reasons they suspected I wouldn’t let them touch me, but they’d all had the same train of thought…that it was a control thing. The men who worked for me hadn’t ever commented on my aversion and I doubted most of them had even noticed since their interest in me and mine in them was about the job and nothing more. Mace’s young lover, Jonas Davenport, was the only man I suspected who knew how deep my need to avoid physical contact was.
Except Seth.
But he’d seen what others hadn’t. And he was exactly the person I’d wanted to hide the weakness from most.
I love you so much, Ronan.
Fuck, I couldn’t even deal with that yet.
I’d managed to stop by my room long enough to clean the proof of mine and Seth’s release from my body and drag on a pair of jeans, but I hadn’t thought to grab my gun because I’d been too rattled by what had happened with Seth. But I couldn’t risk running into him again so I hurried through the door and began striding across the patio.
“Running again?” I heard a voice off to my right say and I turned to see Hawke sitting on the single step that led from the study door to the patio.
I ignored the comment and asked, “What are you doing here?”
I hadn’t seen or heard from Hawke much since I’d moved back into Seth’s house other than to get reports and swap shifts with him so he could go back to his motel and rest while I did perimeter checks throughout the night. But his presence meant he likely suffered the same issues with sleep that I did. And considering the brutal way his wife had died, I wasn’t surprised. I’d seen what the monsters that’d taken her from him had done firsthand. Only, Hawke hadn’t had the pleasure of watching her murderers die like I had gotten to witness with Trace’s.
I’d relieved Hawke almost as soon as Seth and I had gotten home and I hadn’t expected him to return until morning. Of course, I hadn’t expected to find my way into Seth’s bed again just twelve hours after I’d slaked my need on him in his office.
“Figured you’d be preoccupied tonight,” Hawke said. There was enough light from the full moon to see the silver of his gun that he had resting in his hands.
My agitation overrode my common sense as I said, “That the only reason?”
I didn’t need to see Hawke’s eyes to feel his chilly gaze settle on me. “You really want to do this?” he asked coldly. “You’d rather pick a fight with me than be with him?” he said as he glanced up at the other side of the house where Seth’s bedroom was. It was far enough away that he wouldn’t hear us unless we started yelling. “To be loved like that twice in a lifetime, Ronan? Do you even know what a lucky son of a bitch you are?” Hawke asked with a shake of his head. “What the fuck are you so afraid of?”
“He doesn’t love me, Hawke. Not really. Fuck, he doesn’t even really know me!”
“And whose fault is that?”
I shook my head in frustration. “So what, I’m supposed to go back to being the good doctor? The man who saves lives instead of takes them? I’m supposed to pretend the last six years never happened?” I snapped. “I’m supposed to overlook the fact that he’s my dead fiancé’s little brother? That I’m the reason his brother is even dead in the first place?”
“If the fact that he was Trace’s brother really bothered you, you never would have touched him,” Hawke said, his voice irritatingly calm. “And if you want to keep playing the martyr and pretend what happened to Trace was your fault, then fine. But damn well leave him the fuck alone then,” Hawke bit out, his anger finally rumbling to the surface. “Because if you’d open your eyes for one goddamn second, you’d see that that man loves you in a way that all the shit from your past won’t change. Can you say the same thing about Trace?”
