“It’s not fake,” he said, frowning. “I wasn’t going to leave until I asked. And I’m glad Ronan is with you. Like I told you, he’s one of the best.”
“You’re sticking to that story, huh?”
The frown turned thoughtful. “If you can follow his advice, he’ll keep you safe.”
I smiled. “That’s a big if. Why don’t you come to the party tonight?”
He glanced in Elle’s direction. She was on her phone, and the bitch actually stuck her tongue out at me.
“Elle’s coming?” he asked.
“Nope. She’s not. But you never know who might be here. I mean, if there’s anyone in particular you’d like me to invite…”
He shook his head and definitely tried not to smile. “Have a nice party, Summer.” He got in the car and they backed out of the driveway.
Ronan stepped aside to let them pass, then walked over to me where I was enjoying my smoke.
“What?” I said, when he just stared at me.
“They let you smoke weed in DJ school?” he said, straight-faced.
Hmm. Was he listening to that entire conversation?
“It was a prerequisite. Were you really on a call?’”
“With my partner,” he said.
“And how did you know I went to DJ school?”
“I didn’t.”
“Music and Computer Science,” I told him, offering him the joint.
He declined with a shake of his head.
“It was a legit university degree,” I went on, “and I got it. Made my parents happy. I grew up a total tech nerd. Played classical piano for old people in concert theaters by day and snuck into raves by night. That’s where I found my heart.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “But I’m sure you know all that.”
He neither confirmed nor denied. “Are you close with your parents?” he asked instead.
“Yes.”
“Have you told them about what happened?”
I took a puff off my joint and mumbled, “Not yet.”
He gave me a look that suggested I should get on that.
“I’ll get around to it,” I muttered.
I would. Eventually. But my dad was gonna freak, and it wasn’t gonna be pretty.
That could just wait a while. I had enough to deal with right now.
“So, what was that about?” he asked. “With Elle’s bodyguard. Flynn?”
“You know his name. Don’t say it like you don’t. I’m sure you’ve got a dossier on everyone I’ve come into contact with in the last year.” When he didn’t even open his mouth to deny that, I said, “Holy shit. Do you?”
“You were flirting with him. Should I put that in the dossier?”
His face was carefully blank. He had the stony thing down, but the man definitely asked provocative questions. Made me wonder what was really going on in his head.
“I told you, I flirt with a lot of people. I think Flynn’s a bigger fan of you than me, though. Says you’re a god among bodyguards… something like that.”
Ronan said nothing, just studying me as I smoked my joint.
“I heard he used to work for you,” I pried.
“He did.”
That was all he offered on the subject.
“He’s in love with some mystery girl,” I filled him in, breezily. “I’m just trying to figure out who it is. I love playing matchmaker.”
“I’ll add that to your file.”
I was pretty sure he was serious.
“I have a fabulous success rate,” I informed him, in case he doubted my skills.
“What kind of success rate are we talking?”
“I’d say, maybe fifty-fifty?” I eyed him. “Actually… that doesn’t sound so good. I sincerely hope your success rate is better than mine.”
“I’ve never lost a client, if that’s what you mean. And I’ve never had someone get seriously injured on my watch.”
Well, that was sobering. I noticed he said “seriously,” but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know exactly what he meant by that.
Would he tell me more, if I asked?
“Have you done this before?” I asked instead. “Helped someone get a restraining order?”
“I have.”
“Who?”
“A former client. Her ex-husband was violent.”
“You’ve seen some shit, haven’t you.”
“Yup.”
“You’re very honest.”
“No reason not to be.”
“You don’t like talking about yourself, though.”
That seemed to catch him off-guard. “Well… I guess I’m not so used to talking about myself,” he said carefully. “With clients.”
“Mmm. I have a dossier myself.” I tapped my head.
“You have every right to.” He slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans, maybe in an effort to appear less intimidating. Just made him look more sexy when his arms flexed in his thin sweater. “I realize I’m a stranger in your house. I’ll do whatever I can to make it easy on you. If there’s anything you want to know, you can ask.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
I did, but I wasn’t so sure I wanted to ask him much more. Seemed like everything I learned about him just made me like him more.
All flirting aside, I’d realized after yesterday’s little freak-out that I wasn’t sure I could afford those kinds of feelings right now. I was already feeling off-kilter, and yes, the V-word.
I felt vulnerable as hell.
Getting the feels for my bodyguard—especially if they weren’t reciprocated—wasn’t gonna help.
Instead, I admitted, “I haven’t been sleeping so well since the break-in. That’s not normal for me. I guess I’d just like to keep doing what I do, as close to ‘normal’ as possible. What I really don’t want is to become crippled by fear.” I shrugged uncomfortably. “I feel… weakened. Does that make sense? I just want to feel strong again.”
Ronan was silent for a moment. Then he said, “You need security, Summer. And that in itself is not a weakness.”
“I don’t want to need you.”
“I know.”
I cleared my throat and frowned at the last bit of my joint, which had burned right down to nothing without me noticing.
“Hey, do you think you can do me a favor and go pick up a bottle of Chambord?” I looked up into his eyes. “I’m making these special cocktails for the party, and I feel like getting the liquor here is key to the success of the event.”
He didn’t reply. But he was studying me like he was trying to read between the lines
