Page 21 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

Ronan barked a laugh. Elliot tried pulling away. Ronan tightened his grip.

“You're an asshole.”

“You started it.”

“You asked.”

“And you answered.”

“You wanted me to lie?”

Elliot looked away. Ronan caught his jaw with his free hand and turned his face back.

“Hey.”

Elliot's eyes met his. There was something almost childish buried beneath the anger. Not innocence. Elliot had never been as innocent as people thought. Fear. That was different. Ronan recognized it because he'd seen it before. Every time Elliot believed someone might replace him, even temporarily, something ugly crawled out of whatever dark little corner he kept it hidden in. Ronan had spent years pretending he hated that. He didn't. Not entirely.

“You're impossible to replace,” Ronan said.

Elliot stared at him.

“You don't know that.”

“I do.”

“You could get bored.”

“I've known you four years and somehow haven't murdered you.”

“High praise.”

“You could become significantly less annoying.”

“No.”

“Then we're probably stuck.”

Elliot's mouth softened. There. Ronan brushed his thumb once along Elliot's jaw. The gesture was too intimate. Which was precisely why he did it. Elliot leaned into the touch before catching himself. Ronan noticed that too. He noticed everything Elliot did when nobody else was watching.

“You're mine,” Elliot said quietly.

Ronan's thumb stopped. The words should have irritated him. They did. They also sent something hot through his stomach.

“You don't own me.”

“I know.”

“You don't sound like you know.”

Elliot's gaze lowered again.

“Maybe I don't care.”

Ronan inhaled slowly.

“Elliot.”

“What?”