Page 45 of Mine to Ruin

That doesn’t surprise me.

I sigh and put my cheek in my palm. We have a lot to overcome. “Between his attitude toward Brandon and my issue with Melanie—”

“She’s not the one Kian wants.” He gets out of his chair and adds, “Kian is worth it, but you need to be prepared to share his demons with him. If not, stay away.”

“I want to help him.”

“He doesn’t need a therapist. I am sure the therapist would need a therapist if he knew what he went through.”

“I’ll stay.” I told Kian that, too, but he’s got trust issues. With our trust issues it’s going to be a challenge, but I’m willing to fight for him. But he has to fight for me, too, fight himself to open up. Hurt fists around my heart if he won’t. Then I’ll know I’m not worth it for him.

“Good.” Kendrick smiles, and I feel like this was a test and I passed.

Later that day, I close the studio, and when I open my bag, I see Kian’s key card and make my decision, walking toward the elevator. I’ll say I came to bring him his keys, and we’ll end up talking. He’ll confess to me what happened to him. He’ll say he’ll fire Melanie, and he’ll treat Brandon nicer, and they’ll start this amazing relationship and then we’ll kiss and grow old together. Perfect.

Keep dreaming Ellia! My heart gallops in my chest as I text him.

I am on my way.

At the front of his door, I slide the card and let myself in. My mouth opens to announce my presence, but I hear voices from his office, so I silently tiptoe toward it. I can’t believe I am doing this, but I have to have clarity, once and for all.

A tiny little voice mocks my distrust in him. But it’s like a veil covers my rational side. Kian and Melanie keep discussing reports, and the sums they’re discussing have me wondering just how much money Kian has.

They switch their conversation to the opening of the championship, and then the gallery, and they seem so in tune, like a well-oiled machine. It becomes clear why he said she’s good at what she does. He keeps shooting one question after the other, and Melanie answers each one with confidence.

“That’s it,” she says after a while.

Her heels clack on the floor, and I peer through the open door, watching as she puts her hands on his shoulders.

He yanks them away. “I am not in the mood for repeating myself.”

I’m one second away from storming in. Do I have some claim on him? I do, he said that himself.

He jerks his chin toward the door, and she sighs but walks away. I dart to the kitchen and sit on a barstool. I exhale, relieved, when the door shuts behind her. I fidget with the hem of my top. His eyes burn through me, and I lift my gaze.

“I am not sorry,” I say defiance lacing in my voice.

He runs a hand through his thick, dark brown hair and says, “What do I have to do to make you realize there is nothing going on between me and her?”

“You left with her, and for the umpteenth time. Please stop being jealous of me and Brandon.”

“It was a work emergency. I keep repeating the same thing to you.” Still, there is a huge difference.

“The difference is I never slept with Brandon, nor was I in a relationship with him.” I raise an eyebrow at him and cross my hands over my chest.

“I get it, you win. What do you want me to do, huh?” He drags a hand down his face, and I wave him off, feigning a nonchalance I don’t feel.

“Nothing. It’s my problem, not yours.” Even to my own ears, it sounds like bullshit.

He places his forehead against mine, and his alluring scent invades my senses, and I am momentarily incapable of remembering what this is all about. Right. We’re both bad with trust.

“I am yours, only yours, for as long as you’ll have me,” he says, his tone leaving no place for interpretation.

A small smile appears on my face, and I grab his collar, slamming my lips on his. With him, I am pure instinct and zero rationality.

“I missed you,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Did you?”

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