Page 136 of Edge of Unbroken

Ronan shakes his head. “Iam the best thing that’s ever happened toyou?”

I nod.

“Baby, you’re… You saved my life…” He drops his gaze to the floor for a moment before his eyes lock on mine. “I’m not angry at you. I’m aware enough to understand that you didn’t have much of a choice. What Adam did, that’s about as low as it gets, and I’m pretty sure it’s also illegal.”

Again, I nod.

“I hate that this asshole has pictures of you. I hate that he ever put his hands on you. I’m pissed that he scares you. But I’m not angry at you,” he says again. “And I also don’t think you have anything to be ashamed of. Nudes, I mean, I’m pretty sure all our friends send each other nudes. Not, like, to everyone, but—”

I laugh through my tears. His attempt to make me feel better is so sweet. How did I get so damn lucky with him? “Yeah, they were very forthcoming with that.”

“The difference is that none of them share that stuff. Like, even amongst us guys. Shane wouldnevershow me any nudes of Tori. Zack wouldnevershare pictures he has of Summer, and Steve never, not once even talked to me about the stuff Vada has sent him. I’d just know he got one by his reaction or his face when a message from Vada came through.”

“Pretty sure the guys send nudes to the girls, too,” I say.

Ronan grins. “Iknowthey do.”

“Have you ever sent a…?” I admit that it would make me feel a million times better if I knew Ronan, too, had committed a transgression like that, had maybe sent a nude of himself to a girl.

But he shakes his head. “No. But I’ve been sent nudes,” he says and chuckles.

“Really?”

“Yeah, a couple of times by girls I hooked up with. It’s the reason I stopped giving out my number. I didn’t want to put myself or the girl in any kind of compromising position.”

“What did you do with the pictures?”

“Deleted them… eventually,” he says with a mischievous smirk on his full lips, but he turns serious again. “Baby, I meant it last year when I said that I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. I never wanted to make myself vulnerable to anyone before you, so sending a dick pic or whatever, that never even crossed my mind. And the couple of times a girl sent me a picture of her—I mean, as nice as that was—it just wouldn’t have felt right to have something like that if I had no intention of having any sort of relationship with her.”

Jeez, if anyone had asked me only a year ago whether I believed boys like Ronan existed, I’d have readily responded with “hell no.”

I feel the weight lift from my shoulders. I had been dreading this conversation. I knew Ronan and I would have to have it eventually, and I was scared to talk about this with him face to face. His reaction, however—his calm demeanor, the way he makes me feel nothing but loved—makes me wonder once again why I decided to withhold this from him for so long.

I grin at him. “So, what you’re telling me is that you’d sendmea nude picture?”

He narrows his eyes at me, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. “Uh, I mean, maybe. Would you send me one of you?”

“I don’t know, I—”

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t right to ask, especially right now. I move at your pace, baby. Always,” he tells me like he has told me so many times before. “And you should know that if you ever decided to… to trust me like that, I’d rather die before I ever exposed you or even threatened bullshit like that.”

I wipe the last stray tear from my cheek, then wrap my arms around him once more. “Yeah, I know. It’s something I learned about you pretty quickly. That I can trust you with all of me.”

A fleeting expression of pain moves over his face. “Hopefully I’ll never let you down,” he says, studying my face. “You’re so beautiful, Cat,” he breathes. “It’s so weird. Being away, I never forgot how gorgeous you are, but having you here with me right now, it’s seriously unreal how perfect you are.” He tightens his hold on me a little more.

I smile before gently pressing my lips to his, parting them immediately to allow him access. He doesn’t disappoint, kissing me with such tormenting delicateness that I fear my knees might give out. His tongue massages mine softly before his lips leave my mouth only to make a path to my jawline, then my neck. My skin is already hypersensitive, and when Ronan moves his hand underneath my shirt and grazes my bare back with gentle intensity, goosebumps erupt all over my body. He urges our bodies closer together, desperate to erase whatever separation remains, no matter how slight. I can’t help the little whimper that escapes my lips at the sensation of his growing hardness pressing against my hip.

“Cat?” he mutters against my neck, his warm breath causing heat to pool deep within my core. Even just the sound of his voice—rough and raspy—speaks volumes. He’s starving, though it isn’t food he requires. I know what he needs right now without him saying anything else, because I need it too. I needhim. All of him.

I step back enough to look into his eyes—those beautiful green eyes filled with want and desire for me—and take his hand. I lead him out of the kitchen, past the sliding glass doors, and into the small guest bedroom that has become a familiar hideout for us when we need to get lost in each other.

Ronan shuts and locks the door behind us. My heart hammers in my chest as he turns toward me. The deck lights wind their way through the blinds, illuminating the room without compromising our privacy, and I watch Ronan intently as he takes the two steps that separate us. Heat rises inside me with the anticipation of his hands on my body.

The moment he reaches me, Ronan crushes his lips to mine. There is an urgency in the way he touches me, his hands greedy as they push up the hem of my shirt, his movements quick, hurried. It’s so unlike the last time we saw each other, the last time we had sex. It was the day before he left for Montana and he was in a bad place, emotionally as well as physically. We made slow, gentle love then. Where the last time was meant to convey the depth of our love for each other, this right here is pure, unfiltered physical longing and I can’t. Get. Enough. Being with him, giving myself to him feels as necessary as breathing. I lift my arms over my head in time for Ronan to swiftly pull my sweater and shirt off me and drop them to the floor.

My breathing, already erratic, speeds up even more as Ronan trails kisses down my neck, across my collarbone, and to my shoulder while he backs us up toward the soft bed. He licks and nips at my left shoulder while his hand pulls the strap of my lacy white bra off my right. I run my hands under his hoodie and up his back, feeling his heated skin and taut muscles. His body is hot, almost feverish with need. He reaches behind him and pulls his sweater off, giving me the perfect view of his bare chest. He is so beautiful. And it’s not just his face and body, he’s beautiful on the inside, too. So, so beautiful. How anyone could maliciously hurt him is beyond me. I let my eyes roam his body, noting the fitful rise and fall of his breath and his flexed muscles. He’s perfect—his chest, his arms and shoulders, his stomach all lean and muscular. I trace the ridges of his abs up to his chest, smiling as goosebumps erupt where I touch him. My eyes momentarily linger on his scars before I run my fingers softly over them, feeling the slightly raised lines.

He flinches at my touch.

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