Page 55 of Ronan

In that moment, I want to give him something. A piece of me, even if I can’t convince myself to give him everything just yet.

“A few years after my mom died and I was forced to leave my home, I met someone.” He tenses, his fingertips flexing against my thighs, eyes possessive but curious as he waits for me to continue. “At the time, I had holed up in a house in the woods… not unlike the one you put me in. I normally didn’t stop for longer than a few days at a time, but I was just… tired. So fucking tired. There was a fresh water source nearby, and a few fruit trees in the grove. For someone like me? It was a fucking paradise. So, I stayed and built up my supplies over a few weeks.”

Ronan doesn’t speak, just carries me to a worktable and sits me on an empty stretch, keeping his arms around me. “I was naive and had been on the road so long that I was lonely. Meeting Mason was a complete coincidence. I had ventured out to an abandoned town close by and found him scavenging in the building I entered. He put on an amazing performance… made me believe he was the perfect guy. Patient. Sweet.”

“We agreed to meet again, and I half expected him to ghost me, but he showed up carrying flowers, and that’s all it took for me to be smitten. He used my inexperience against me, although I didn’t see it at the time. For weeks, we met up and got to know each other… took it slow. A few pecks on the lips, a couple quick makeout sessions, but we spent more time talking than anything. Looking back, I realize he was avoiding physical contact, but at the time? I was clueless.”

“That’s why it upset you when I put the pillows between us,” he realizes, and I nod as I chew on the inside of my mouth.

“It brought me right back to those days, when I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me that he didn’t even want to touch me.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he whispers, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. “That wasn’t… I didn’t know…”

“It’s okay. We’re past that now.” He offers me a worried smile that I return, some of the weight on my chest lifting. “Mason knew I had never met my father and had lost my mom… he knew there was no one in my life. Knew I had nothing left in this fucking world.” Anger flares in my gut at the memory, and Ronan says nothing else, his hands running along my back. “After a few weeks, I invited him to the house I was staying at, and for the first time in my adult life, I thought I might build a home.”

“What happened?” he asks, voice gentle.

I lean forward, parting my hair to show him an old scar that runs along my scalp. “He smashed me in the head with a shovel and tied me up inside my own fucking house. Stole everything I had built up while I sat there and watched.” Ronan’s eyes are dark, his nostrils flaring as I shrug. “It took all day for him to lug my supplies to wherever he was hiding them, and when he’d finally cleaned me out, he untied my feet and left a knife on the table. Said I was smart enough to cut myself free, even if I was dumb enough to trust him. Then he left, and I hadnothing. No one.”

“I’m sorry,” Ronan whispers roughly, barely containing his anger at the betrayal. Despite the years that have passed, the memory still hurts. The phantom burn ofthe ropes around my wrists makes me flex them, remembering how numb my hands had gone while I watched him steal the last of my innocence.

The last of my faith.

Emotion is a brambled ball in my throat, scratching my voice as I say, “Everybody leaves eventually, Ronan.”

“Not me,” he insists, and I close my eyes, the stinging behind them becoming sharper as I nod, desperate to believe him.

“You understand now? Why it’s so hard for me to trust that you won’t go? That I’m…” I swallow, focusing on the drag of his fingertips along my skin. “That I’m worth staying for? The one time I tried to keep something for myself, and it’s like I got too greedy, reached too high, and life showed me that was my destiny. To be left. To beforgotten.”

“Cameron,” he whispers, and gods, it comes out as a plea as he takes my cheeks in his hands, pressing his lips to mine. “Forget you? How could I ever forget you? A thousand years could go by and yours would still be the face I thought of when I woke up in the morning. I could die and be reborn into a hundred different lifetimes and I’d never forget you. I willneverleave. As long as I have breath left in my lungs, I will fight to stay with you. Always. Tell me you understand.”

“Okay,” I whisper, proud when there’s only a tiny quiver in my voice.

“Okay,” he parrots, dropping another kiss on my trembling lip. “Now, why don’t we make sure nothing crazy happened when the power came on.” I offer him a shaky smile, thankful for the shift in attention. It’s like he knowsexactly when I need space from the heaviness, and he finds a way to give it to me.

“Then shower?”

He shakes his head, giving me a stern glare. “Then dinner while the water heats, and afterwards you can run every steaming drop from the tank.”

“I have to leave some for you.”

Ronan’s smile is so soft that it gives me pause, and I wonder what’s going through his mind. “Whatever you want to give me, mo’sziv. I’ll take nothing more.”

Chapter 18

Cameron

Dinner blows me away. It’s a simple meal—beans, rice, and canned green beans—but with the oven working again, Ronan turns it into a feast. Not only is thereactualsalt and pepper, but he also bakes fresh bread.

Baked goods are a delicacy you don’t get on the road unless you find somewhere to buy them, and I never wasted what little money I had on frivolous things. Other than the loaves he brought while I was imprisoned, I haven’t had bread since I left home.

I eat until I can barely breathe, slumping in my chair with my full belly pressing against my waistband. “If you keep spoiling me, I’m going to get fat.” Ronan only laughs as his eyes trace my thin frame. “I’m serious,” I say, picking up another piece of bread and shaking it at him. “These pants are screaming, but I can’t stop eating.” My stomach protests as I take a bite, but I push through.

I’m a trooper like that.

Ronan appears beside me, and I protest as he takes the food from my hand. “My bread,” I argue weakly, but hesquirts a dollop of honey on it and hands it back. “Oh, my gods,” I whine, “I think I just fell in love.” We both freeze as my words register, hanging in the air between us.

Panicked, I shove a giant bite of food in my mouth, so I’m not expected to say anything else.

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