Page 118 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

“Maybe.”

“No.”

“Dylan?”

Ronan hesitated. Elliot caught it.

“He knows.”

“He suspects.”

“Same difference.”

“No, it isn't.”

Elliot began pacing. Three steps toward the couch. Turn. Back. Ronan had almost never seen him pace. That concerned him more than anger.

“Elliot.”

“What exactly did she say?”

“She asked whether Dylan and I slept together before or after you and I got involved.”

Elliot stopped. Ronan saw humiliation flash beneath the anger. Not shame about them. Exposure. Different.

“They know we're sleeping together.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I don't know.”

Elliot looked toward the windows. Ronan crossed the room.

“Hey.”

“Don't.”

Ronan stopped. Elliot dragged one hand through his hair.

“They're investigating murders and they know about us.”

“I know.”

“That gives them motive.”

Ronan went still. The sentence landed hard because Vance had used the same word.

“You thought of that fast.”

Elliot looked at him. Ronan immediately regretted it.

“Don't start.”

“I'm not.”

“You are.”