Chapter 8 #4
I could feel Ronan taking it in, weighing it against whatever Stellan had told him before about the job, about money that came easy but carried a cost. When Ronan tilted his head at me, there was a question in it. Fair enough.
“My ex held a grudge.” I tried to keep it broad and simple. “I was a shitty boyfriend, and she suspected enough to want answers. Blackmail probably wasn’t the healthiest avenue, but, you know. Here we are.”
Ronan stared for a second. “That’s very zen of you.”
He wasn’t wrong, and three months ago—hell, maybe even one month ago—I might have tucked a lot more cursing into the folds. But I couldn’t change the past, and as Reid had pointed out a couple nights ago: at least it had kicked me straight out of denial. So there was that.
“Our strength coach has me doing yoga,” I said. “Been trying to adopt the mindset.”
That pulled the smallest, unwilling snort from Ronan while Stellan slid me a speculative glance. “You do yoga?”
“Absolutely fucking not,” Ronan interrupted before I could get a word in. “No sex talk in this kitchen. I eat here.”
“Prude,” Stellan said, and one side of Ronan’s mouth lifted.
“Talk to Claire sometime.”
Stellan blew out an amused breath. “His girlfriend,” he told me before his face settled back into something much more serious.
“Anyway. The agency. Yesterday, someone saw me with Matt. They sent a reminder email about my confidentiality obligations and how I’d better stay away from him.
Guess they got nervous at the idea of a former fixer talking to the guy they tried to burn. ”
Ronan’s expression darkened. “Right. God forbid the blackmail company should feel threatened.”
Ha.
“Send them a holding reply,” I told Stellan. “Nothing dramatic. Just… noted, you’ll respond if necessary. Something boring that buys us time.”
Both of them shifted their full attention to me. “Us?” Stellan asked, strangely quiet.
“Well.” I lifted a shoulder. “Yeah.”
Stellan still looked hesitant—thrown, maybe—while Ronan’s eyes narrowed in consideration. “And then what?”
“Then tomorrow, after work, Stellan comes over. We sit down with Reid—my manager,” I added for Ronan’s sake. “Reid is good at this kind of thing, ruthless if he has to be. We figure out what they can realistically do.”
Ronan shifted his stance. “Doesn’t sound like much of a plan.”
Yeah, fair. Truth was I didn’t have one yet, just instinct, a hint of anger, and ample experience with pressure that said there were different ways to bend. Or not.
“The agency wants him scared,” was what I settled on, angling myself a little closer to Stellan. “Scared, quiet, and away from me. If he stays in contact with me, I stop being some old target and start being a problem they can’t control. So first we figure out what’s real and what’s bluff.”
“Naomi should be there,” Stellan said after a moment, watching me with something I couldn’t entirely place. “She knows how they operate—better than me, in some ways.”
“Sure.” I nodded. “Bring her.”
Somewhere behind me, a radiator clicked. Stellan set his glass down and shook his head, still looking at me. “Why are you doing this? Easier to just walk away from my mess.”
Because I came into your room thinking I might have lost you already, and it fucking hurt.
“Because you tried to protect me,” I said. “You didn’t have the full story at first, but once you did, you tried to fix it. I’m not walking away from that.”
Stellan’s expression changed, came apart at the seams. He didn’t reach for me, nothing that obvious, but it felt as if he wanted to. It made my own chest widen a little, like I’d been holding my breath without even realizing it.
“Okay,” Stellan said. Just that, tiredness still there around his eyes, but more himself now, steadier. “So, tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” I agreed.
“You know,” Ronan said, rocking back on his heels with a tiny smile, “this was not on my bingo card for the afternoon. Kinda thought that if Stellan were to bring home a pro athlete, it’d be for bragging rights and highly improbable sex positions. Not his past coming back to hit him over the head.”
“Who says it can’t be both?” I said before I could stop myself. And… huh. Something gave a little tug in my belly, but it wasn’t bad. More thoughtful than anything. I’d never done this—treated my sexuality as a source of lightness, the kind of thing I could joke about.
Ronan made a face. “Too much information.”
“You asked,” Stellan told him.
“I did not.”
“You implied,” I said, and Ronan nodded.
“That I did.”
Stellan’s laugh curled warm, and I wondered what would happen if I asked to stay another hour, stay the night. Dangerous territory, though. Too close to a habit in the making.
“I should go,” I said, and for a beat, it looked as though Stellan might argue. Then his expression smoothed into something easy.
“Yeah, of course.” A pause. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
“No funny business,” Ronan stated.
“No promises,” Stellan said, and I lifted a brow at him.
“Yeah?”
Stellan’s mouth curved, small and tired, but real. “Yeah.”
I smiled back and turned to put on my shoes, tomorrow rattling in my bones like a threat and a promise.
Either way, I was in this now. I wasn’t walking away from him.
Quite the opposite.