Page 49
“You try wearing satin on a night this cold,” I say. “The wind out there would cut ya in two.”
Ronan is quiet for a moment, then he leans back against the seat and lets the silence stretch.
I turn my head toward him because deflection is a survival skill, and I’m excellent at it.
“When are you going to stop pretending ya fancy me?”
He rolls his head so he’s facing me, and blinks.
“Pretend?” He laughs deep in his chest. “I do fancy you.”
“Do ya?”
“Yeah.”
“Ronan.”
“What?”
“We’re like a fade-to-black romance novel,” I say. “All flirt and no fuck.”
His brows draw together. “Do you want it to happen?”
“Not anymore.”
I soften my voice because I’m not cruel when someone doesn’t deserve it.
“We’ve had enough opportunities to know neither of us is really into it. I flirt with you because that’s what we’ve always done, and it’s easy, and you flirt with me because it’s safe.”
He huffs a laugh, but it doesn’t last. “Safe?”
“I saw you eyeing up Lorcan.”
His brows snap together. “Everyone looks at Lorcan.”
“True. He does have the slutty cheekbones of a man who ruins marriages.”
“Sera.”
“What?”
“He’s straight.”
I study him in the passing flicker of streetlights.
“Yeah, he is,” I say. “And there are plenty of guys around who aren’t.”
His hand flexes on top of mine.
“I’m not saying you’re anything,” I tell him. “I’m saying stop trying to trap yourself in a version of your life that makes you miserable. You’re too pretty to be that tragic.”
He stares out of the window and for the next while, he says nothing.
The city disappears as we take the dark county roads, where the full beam bounces with every dip.
When we reach Black Heath stud, Ronan tells the driver to continue down the lane and turn in the yard.
“Thanks for the ride.” I reach for the handle as the driver exits the car and comes to my side.
