Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“Sorry if I was being pushy,” I murmur.
“You have a good heart, Accardi. I get it. But not sure he’s going to forgive you for that interference.”
♦
The sky over Silvercrest has deepened to steel gray, the wind kicking up enough to tug at the hem of my jacket. Most of the Drivex crew is packing it in—camera rigs being wheeled into vans, light stands broken down, wires spooled. We’ve changed out of our race suits and I’m back in fitted black jeans, a charcoal sweater and my worn leather boots—nothing flashy, just comfortable. My hair’s twisted up in a loose knot at the nape of my neck, strands still wind-tangled from the shoot.
I see Ronan moving toward his car, the collar of his jacket turned up. Lex is gone. Nash is chatting with one of the engineers. I’ve got no reason to interfere.
Except I do.
I hurry after Ronan and catch him as he reaches his Aston Martin. He hears me approaching and turns to face me wearing a scowl.
“Are you mad at me?” I ask, testing the ground like I might be stepping onto thin ice.
“Are you annoying?” he counters, tapping his finger against his chin as if he’s really weighing it. His mouth quirks, but his eyes don’t. “Yes. Yes, you are annoying.”
I snort. “Well, you’ve been weird all day.”
He doesn’t glance at me, just shrugs one shoulder, cool as anything. “You’ve been bossy all day.”
“Someone had to be.” I plant my hands on my hips, the warmth rising in my cheeks.
“Did they?” He sounds resigned, almost tired.
That prickle of irritation drives me forward a step. I fold my arms, staring up at him. “You and Lex were two seconds away from never speaking again.”
His head snaps toward me, eyes flaring. “And what—you thought you’d fix it? Patch us up like a good little team player?”
The words sting, but I lift my chin. “I thought maybe you’d like your friend back.”
“I don’t need a babysitter, Accardi.”
“You sure about that?” I match his dryness with my own, refusing to flinch. “Because all you have is a brick wall and a grudge. Since you’ve got those covered, I figured maybe you could use a push.”
His laugh cuts sharp, bitter enough to twist my stomach. “You think it’s that simple? You think a little reconciliation moment in a team-branded shoot is going to fix what I broke?”
I shrug, though my pulse is hammering. “Maybe not. But you showing up today? Saying what you said? That was a start.”
He steps in closer than he should, heat radiating off him, crowding into my space until I forget how to breathe. His voice drops, rough. “You don’t get it.”
I tilt my head, refusing to back down. “Then explain it.”
He leans even closer, angry now. “You think it’s easy for people like me? You think I haven’t tried?”
My mouth tightens. “You tried once. Today. And it meant something. Don’t pretend it didn’t.”
He’s full-on glaring now, and I don’t flinch. “Jesus. You really think it’s just about me and Lex?”
“I think there’s a whole lot more you’re not saying,” I reply. “And I think you’re terrified of what happens if someone actually listens.”
“Terrified?” He scoffs. “No. I’ve just learned better.”
“You push people away so you don’t have to risk being close to anyone,” I say, heat rising within me. “You burn the bridge before someone else does.”
He laughs again—cold, humorless. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about it.”
“No?” I step in this time, toe to toe. “Then tell me, Barnes. Tell me what makes it so impossible for you to let someone care.”
He clenches, hands in fists at his sides. The tension rolls off him like a bomb blast.
“You think it’s easy to just… have relationships,” he spits. “To talk. To show up. You think that’s normal. That’s safe. You have no clue.”
“Then help me understand,” I say again, softer this time. “You say I don’t get it? Explain it to me.”
His eyes lock on mine, wild and angry and dark. He breathes in sharply. “I’ll do one better.” He moves to the passenger door of his car and yanks it open. “Get in.”
I blink. “What?”
“You want to understand?” he says roughly, words edged with challenge. “I’ll show you. You’re coming home with me.”
I don’t move right away but his expression dares me to.
I slide into the seat without a word.
Ronan doesn’t say anything else as we drive into the night. But something volatile is building, like he’s going to explode and I’ll be picking up pieces forever.
This is most definitely going to end in a mess.
The question is whether it’s his or mine.
CHAPTER 10
Ronan
She hasn’t said a word since we left Silvercrest.
Not a damn word.
Not that I want her to. The silence suits me fine because I’m still seething. Not just from her cornering me with Lex, dragging some hollow confession out of me like it was supposed to fix anything—but because it worked.