Always Will: A Bad Boy Romance (10 page)

“I didn’t think Brax was the marriage type,” I say. “But he married our best friend Kylie a few months ago. It’s weird, because we’ve known Kylie since we were kids. We were always a little trio of trouble.”

“And now they’re a pair and you’re on the outside,” Ronan says.

“Sometimes,” I say. “Although that doesn’t bother me. He couldn’t have married anyone better. Kylie’s always been like a sister to me, so having her actually be my sister is fantastic. And I don’t have to worry about not liking my sister-in-law.”

“But?”

I take another sip. “I guess I’m still trying to process the fact that he got married before me. Braxton was a total man-whore before Kylie. I didn’t think he’d ever get married.”

“Is that what you’re looking for?” he asks. “Marriage?”

I search his face for the innuendo in his question, but it seems like he’s just curious. “Eventually, yes. I’d like that.”

He nods and takes a drink.

“What about you?” I ask. “Siblings?”

“I have a brother,” Ronan says. “Damon’s a psychiatrist. He lives in Sacramento.”

“Are you close?”

“We used to be,” he says. “I don’t think he understands me now.”

“Did something change?” I ask. “Or did you grow apart as you got older?”

“No, something changed,” he says. “I was in an accident in college. Things were different afterward.”

“I’m sorry.”

He looks away and I can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it. “It’s all right. I survived. So how did you wind up living in the house you grew up in?”

I know he’s just trying to change the subject, but I doubt my story is any better than the one he’s trying to avoid telling. I’m never sure how to answer when the subject of my parents comes up. It tends to make people uncomfortable.

“It’s not a happy story,” I say. “My parents were killed in a car accident when Brax and I were ten.”

“Oh, Selene,” he says, leaning forward. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

His sympathy is so disarming that I find myself continuing. “Thanks. I know what you mean about things being different afterward. In a lot of ways, it was the defining event of my life.”

“Who raised you after that?” he asks.

“Our aunt,” I say. “She came to live with us. She was older than our father, and she passed when we were eighteen. Braxton and I inherited the house, and we both lived there until we were done with college. After that, he insisted I keep it.”

“Is it hard to live there?” he asks.

“Sometimes,” I say. “I’ve redecorated a lot of it over the years, but I still have things that remind me of them. It really is a great house, although it’s too big for just one person.”

He pauses, his eyes never leaving my face. When he speaks again, his voice is softer. “I’m sure you won’t be living there alone forever.”

My heart flutters, and I take a sip of my drink to give me a second to recover. “I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like I will be.”

“Why?”

“That’s a complicated question.” Part of me wonders why I’m having this conversation with him. But he’s so relaxed, his eyes intent on me like he’s genuinely interested. He makes it easy to keep talking. “I guess I feel like I live two different lives. From a professional standpoint, I’m exactly where I want to be. I love my job, and I get a lot of satisfaction working for VI. But my personal life is kind of a mess. I tend to date the wrong men.”

“Like Ashton?”

“It was Aidan,” I say, my tone wry. “But no, Aidan was supposed to be different. He was supposed to be a step in the right direction.”

A slight smile crosses his lips. “What direction is that?”

I shake my head and look away. “I don’t know. A serious direction? I’d like to meet someone who doesn’t look at me like a trophy, and ditch me when the next hot piece of ass comes along.”

Ronan watches me with a hand to his chin. He’s so sexy when he does that. He has this air about him, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It makes me want to crawl across the table and—

“You deserve that,” he says.

I suddenly feel like I shared more than I meant to, and I’d like to get him talking. “Are you like me? You’re a successful business owner. You just bought a new company. But you aren’t married. Is your professional life on track, but your personal life is a mess?”

He hesitates, his tongue darting across his lips. “I guess that depends on who you ask.”

“I’m asking you.”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I think my criteria might be changing.”

“Well, I hope you figure it out,” I say.

He tosses back the last of his whiskey. “I have a confession. I lied to you about something.”

“What?”

“I told you on the plane that I already planned to attend this conference before the sale of VI went through.”

“That isn’t true?”

“No,” he says. “I found out that you were going a few days ago, and I switched the former employee’s pass into my name. Then I changed your flight so we could fly here together.”

I can’t decide if I should be angry or not. “Seems like you went to a lot of trouble for nothing.”

“Why
nothing
?” he asks, his brow furrowed.

“It’s not like being out of town is going to give you a better chance of getting me into bed.”

“I didn’t drop everything to come to Denver with you for three days because I thought I’d get laid,” he says. “I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from you for that long. Believe me, I don’t know what to do with that any more than you do.”

I have no idea how to respond to that, and I touch my glass with my fingertips, wishing it wasn’t empty.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he says, a hint of mischief in his tone. “If you invited me upstairs with you, I’d be there in a heartbeat. But I didn’t come here expecting that.”

“Good.” I can’t quite meet his eyes.

“What is it that’s holding you back?” he asks. “Is it what happened before I left for San Francisco?”

“That’s part of it,” I say. “That and the fact that you’re my boss. If something happened between us, everyone in the office would look at me differently. And when it’s over, what am I supposed to do? I love my job, Ronan. I told you, it’s the one part of my life that I’m proud of. I can’t risk that.”

“When,” he says. It’s not a question.

“Excuse me?”

“You said
when it’s over
,” he says.

“Ronan, we slept together once and I never heard from you again,” I say. “Yes, I realize you were moving to California, literally that day. But would it have killed you to call? Send me a text? You didn’t even say goodbye. Am I supposed to assume that five years later, you’re not still that guy?”

He puts his hand to his chin and looks away. “I guess I deserve that.”

“Yes, you do.”

He pauses for a moment, then stands and meets my eyes. “Good night, Selene.”

He walks away before I can reply.

13: Ronan

I’m up early on the second day of the conference. I’d like to pretend Selene didn’t get to me last night, but that would be a lie. She did. It isn’t that she doesn’t trust me after I blew her off five years ago. She’s right—I did blow her off, and she doesn’t have any reason to believe I wouldn’t do it again. I’ve had a lot of casual flings, and I’m not an idiot. I know when a woman wants more, and that’s when I bail. It means I have a lot of women in my past who probably hate me, but I’ve never had it in me to give them what they want. I’m great at swooping in, showing a woman a good time, and blowing her mind in bed. Anything more than that? It isn’t my area. That gets into territory I don’t want to explore, and I’ve never been particularly tempted.

Until Selene.

I think that’s why hearing her say
when it’s over
was a kick to the nuts. She can see something happening between the two of us, but she can see the end as clearly as the beginning.

Why does that bother me?

I haven’t contemplated a relationship with a future in a very long time. Women come in and out of my life, and I never worry about where it’s going. We enjoy each other for a time, and move on. I’ve been content with that, happy to focus on my career and building my business.

But Selene’s assumption that she and I would be temporary … it hurt. That’s so fucked up I didn’t even know how to respond to her. I should have been able to smile and make a joke about being so good I’m unforgettable. But I couldn’t. It was all I could do to look her in the eyes and say goodnight.

I feel dead inside. It’s not unfamiliar. I feel this way a lot. It creeps up on me, and I realize I need to do something to jump start my heart again, like it’s gone cold in my chest.

There’s no way I can sit through a bunch of bullshit sessions today. I shouldn’t blow this off—there are valuable opportunities for networking at this conference—but it isn’t going to happen. I turn on my laptop, and after a quick search I find what I’m looking for. I need to get out of here—out of the hotel, out of the city. I need to do something to clear my head and flip my switch back to
On
. Otherwise, I’m going to find myself in a darker place than I want to be.

Forty-five minutes later, I’m driving out of Denver in a rental car to meet a climbing guide. He brought gear for two, since I don’t have mine, and we hike out to the climbing spot.

Perched on a rock face, high above the ground, my adrenaline kicks in. I haul myself upward, pushing my speed, aching to get higher. The deadness melts away, replaced by the rush of danger. A wingsuit jump would have been better, but rock climbing was the best I could do on short notice. I take a deep breath of the fresh, clean air, and feel my lungs expand.

I look down at the ground, so far beneath me. I’m high enough that I’d smash against the rocks if I fell. Euphoria takes me, holds me in its grasp. My muscles burn as I climb, sweat dripping down my back. My heart pumps hard, and the deadness is gone.

The guide and I spend half the day climbing. He’s a perfect match for me—experienced, with knowledge of the area and no need to make small talk. By the time I head back in to Denver, my head is clear. I feel awake again. Alive. A good climb was just what I needed.

It’s late afternoon, and I take a much-needed shower in my room. I had a text from Selene, asking about lunch, and told her I’d meet her for dinner. I have some time, so I meet up with a few contacts in the hotel bar.

Selene walks in, and with my head still buzzing from my climb, she’s almost irresistible. I’m overcome with the desire to grab her and claim that delicious mouth with mine. I don’t give a fuck about her rules, or who’s watching.

The hesitance in her eyes stops me. I take a deep breath and get my shit under control. I could probably talk her into spending the night with me. She’d be reluctant, but I can be very convincing.

The crazy thing is, I don’t want her like that. I want something more from Selene than just another hookup. We had that once, and as incredible as it was, it wouldn’t be enough. She needs to want me as much as I want her. She needs to let me in.

This is uncharted territory for me, but fuck if it isn’t extending my climbing high.

“Where have you been all day?” she asks as she takes a seat at the bar next to me.

“I went rock climbing.”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course,” I say. “What did I miss?”

Selene fills me in her day. She made some good contacts and the keynote speech sounds like it was worth the time to hear.

“What made you decide to go rock climbing?” she asks. “Was that part of your plan, or did you just take off this morning?”

“I took off,” I say. “I needed to clear my head.”

“I can understand that,” she says.

The bartender brings the dirty martini I already ordered for her.

“Thanks,” she says and takes a sip.

I wasn’t planning on talking to her about this yet, but my gut tells me it’s time. “Selene, I need to bring you in on something.”

She lifts her eyebrows. “What?”

“There’s more to my purchase of VI,” I say. “It wasn’t just a good business opportunity. I’m going after something a lot bigger.”

She leans back in her seat and crosses her legs. I can see the skepticism in her eyes.

“Hear me out,” I say. “Edge Gear was always a tongue-in-cheek name, but we’re working on things that are downright revolutionary. I bought VI because I want to integrate your technology with what we’re doing at Edge. I plan to integrate the dev teams. I’m going after a contract worth tens of millions, possibly more, and I think we have a solid shot at it.”

Her eyes widen. “Tens of millions? Contract with who?”

“It’s a government contract,” I say. “Military.”

“Military?” she asks. “You don’t want to weaponize VI’s technology somehow, do you?”

“No,” I say, putting up a hand. “The opposite, actually. We’re developing state of the art protection gear—body armor, without the armor. I’m having some of the latest samples sent up and, honestly, it’s going to blow your mind. If we integrate that with VI’s data capture technology…” My mind swirls with the possibilities, and I get a jolt of adrenaline running through my veins. “Think of what that could do for soldiers in the field. State-of-the art protective gear with data about their physical state being constantly fed to a central location. This is sci-fi shit we’re talking about here.”

She keeps her eyes on me as she sips her drink. I can tell she’s not sure—but she’s not arguing with me, either. I’ll take that as a win.

“This isn’t about toys,” I say. “It’s not about athletic gear. This is a new direction for both companies, but you have to see the potential. Edge and VI are a perfect match for each other. And this contract…” I take a sip of my drink before the adrenaline overtakes me and I start talking too fast. “This contract could be the first of many. There are applications in all branches of the military, not to mention law enforcement and private security. This is going to be huge, Selene.”

“If you’re taking all our resources away from our current projects—”

“No, this would represent an expansion. We’ll still move forward with the next VI product, although of course the timeline to market might have to change.”