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I devoured the bagel like a goddamn animal, lips slick with butter and bacon grease, and sipped my coffee for the rest of the drive. Ronan made a comment here and there to Daisy, and exchanged some small talk with the driver, but for the most part, he kept quiet.
The car stopped outside my townhouse, and I bounded out, my hangover dulled by how eager I was to be home. Ronan barked my name, but I ignored him and ran up the steps to my new front door. Then I realized I didn’t have the key so I couldn’t ditch my bodyguard after all.
He came up behind me and handed me Daisy’s leash. Then he placed his hands on my hips and moved me a foot to the side so he could unlock my door.
I held my hand out. “Give me the key.”
He placed it in my palm. “I’ll keep a copy until my job is done, then I’ll give that one to you.”
Tucking it in my pocket, I clucked my tongue. “Wow, that didn’t sound like a question.”
“It wasn’t. Do you have a problem with me having a key?”
“Um…” I unlocked the door to my apartment and ushered Daisy inside. “I don’t know. As long as I don’t wake up to you sitting in the corner of my bedroom.” Rounding on him, I tapped his blood red tie with my fingernail. “And you call Oompa Loompas creepy.”
The only evidence something had gone terribly wrong inside my apartment was the faint trace of the smell of paint that still clung to the air. My apartment was spotless, and despite the bars that had been added to the windows, it was still filled with sun and warmth.
I went into my bedroom and fell onto my bed, wincing when it just didn’t feel the same as my last mattress. This one would be fine, comfortable, but not the same, and that sucked. It was just another jab from Logan, another reminder of how he’d upended my life.
Ronan stopped just inside my door, and I sat up, blowing hair off my face. “I’ll show you the new security system if you’re ready.”
He ran me through every bell and whistle, panic buttons and atomic bombs. Maybe not that last one, but it felt like it. Damn. I’d be locked up tight. I guess it made me feel good that when I went on tour, I wouldn’t have to worry about my place, but having such a sensitive and complex system made me feel the opposite of safe. It was like I was being hidden away from the enemy charging at my gate. I’d get used to it, but I would never like it.
Once he was finished, he rubbed his chin and peered at me with narrowed eyes. I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, bracing myself for the lecture or rejection or dressing down I was about to receive. I already recognized that look in Ronan’s eyes.
“Iris, I have to set some boundaries in our professional relationship.”
My stomach dropped at the concerned condescension in his tone. Bracing myself hadn’t helped. “Honestly, you don’t have to do this. I’m sorry about last night. I feel embarrassed and awkward about it. It won’t happen again.”
“I want someone’s hands on me. I miss that more than anything.”
“Iris…”
“Oh, shush. You would have put your hands on me if things had gone differently.”
“We’re lucky it worked out how it did.”
“Lucky? Are you happy my house was broken into? Are you a sadist, Ronan?”
“Iris, I’m gonna need you to stop screeching.”
He nodded, tucking his hands in his trouser pockets. “That’s good. I’ve had issues with past clients overstepping boundaries. I want you to feel you can call me if you need me, but—”
“No, I get it. Please stop talking. I’m close to dissolving in a puddle of self-hatred. Next time I drink, I’ll preemptively block your number.”
He huffed a laugh. “Not necessary. I didn’t mind your call last night, and you seemed—”
Groaning, I buried my face in my hands. “Please, no more.”
“You seemed sad.” He completely ignored my boundaries, that big, beautiful, rude man. “I was worried about you, that you might hurt yourself, so I stayed on the line.”
I shook my head hard and looked up from my hands. “I wouldn’t have hurt myself. Made a bad decision and ended up in bed with someone I would have regretted, yes, but nothing permanent.”
His brow lowered, and the sound he made in his throat sounded like a bear in a faraway cave. “Then I’m glad you called me instead.”
I cocked my head. “But I’m not allowed to anymore. Got it.”
He placed a hand on my shoulder, shaking lightly and holding my gaze with his. “I’m not your therapist, Iris, nor am I your friend. I really don’t want to hear about you in bed with someone else. But if you think you’re going to do something you’ll regret, then yes, fucking call me. I’ll make sure you don’t, because Idoconsider that hurting yourself.”
