Always Will: A Bad Boy Romance (19 page)

Kylie smiles and greets him warmly, and they both slide into the booth across from us.

Brax sits back, his face totally relaxed, and drapes his arm across the seat behind Kylie. “Did you guys order yet?”

“Just drinks,” I say. I keep waiting for the tension to rise, but Brax looks … happy. He plays with Kylie’s hair and asks Ronan a few questions. The two of them start chatting about football—one of Braxton’s favorite subjects—and Kylie gets up.

“I just need to run to the ladies’ room,” she says. “Can you order for me?”

“Sure, baby girl,” Braxton says, his mouth turning up in a lazy smile.

I get out of the booth and meet Ronan’s eyes. “I’ll be right back.”

I follow Kylie to the bathroom, grateful there’s no one else in there when we get inside.

Kylie looks at herself in the mirror and fluffs her long, dark hair. “Sorry, I’m um … a little warm.” She fans herself.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m great.” She turns to look at me. “I just, you know, didn’t want Braxton coming to dinner with a loaded weapon, so…”

I laugh. “Gotcha.”

“You know, the only thing that sucks about being married to your brother is that I can’t talk to you about my sex life anymore,” she says.

“That does kind of suck,” I say. Kylie and I were always really open about that sort of thing. We told each other everything. More or less. “You know what, talk to me anyway. We’ve been sharing this stuff with each other since … well, since there was anything to share.”

“You sure?” she asks.

“Positive,” I say. “Maybe just stop yourself from describing anything where I have to generate a mental picture.”

She laughs. “That’s fair.” She takes a deep breath. “So, he does this thing where he goes down on me and gives me two orgasms, one right on top of the other. And that’s all before he even, you know, has his turn. And usually there’s another one when he goes. But fuck, it’s kind of exhausting. I feel like I want to crawl in bed right now instead of sit in a bar. I meant for it to be a quickie before we left, but he doesn’t really do quick.”

“Damn,” I say. “No wonder you married him.”

She lifts her eyebrows. “Right?”

I lick my lips, and my mind goes to the mild ache between my legs.

“You obviously fired the cannon before you guys came,” Kylie says with a knowing smile.

“Is it that obvious?” I ask.

“On you? Only because I know you,” she says. “Ronan though. Look at his face when we come out of the bathroom. I bet you twenty bucks he and Braxton are wearing identical expressions. It must have been pretty good.”

I roll my eyes upward. “God, Kylie, it was … holy shit. He…” I stop and purse my lips together.

“Oh, now you really have to tell me,” she says.

“He tied me up and punished me.”

Her mouth drops open. “Holy shit.”

“I know,” I say. “He didn’t hurt me or anything like that. But god, it was phenomenal.”

“I kind of want more details because that sounds fun,” she says.

“Just imagine a necktie, a headboard, and being told not to speak or move without permission. Then there was some spanking, and a lot of touching and teasing before we finally got to it.”

“Damn, that’s hot,” she says. “You were good with all that? Were you worried he’d take it too far?”

“No, I wasn’t worried at all. I trust him.” I pause again. “Ky, he said the L word.”

She gasps. “What?”

“I know,” I say. “He did. He said he loves me. He’s said it more than once.”

“Wait, when you were tied up?” she asks.

“No, he said it for the first time last week.”

“And did you say it back?” she asks.

I know her question means more than whether or not I said the words. She wants to know if I meant it. “I did.”

She puts a hand to her mouth. “Selene, this is a big deal.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“That’s not what I expected you to tell me tonight,” she says. “But I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks, Ky.” I glance at the door. “We should probably get back to them. Unloaded weapons or not, I don’t want to leave Brax alone with Ronan for too long.”

“Good plan.”

We come out of the restroom and make our way back to our booth to find drinks on the table and the two men chatting amiably. Kylie was right, they do have identical expressions on their faces. They both look laid-back, almost tranquil. We take our seats, and Ronan is telling Braxton about Edge Gear and their recent breakthroughs in technical fabrics. After a while, the conversation turns back to sports. Braxton is fascinated by Ronan’s extreme sports passion, and Ronan listens with rapt attention as Braxton talks about some training techniques that could improve Ronan’s rock climbing.

We all have a few more drinks and chat late into the night. I try not to stare at Braxton, but I’m amazed. His easy mood is not just the result of recent sex with his wife, regardless of how hot or kinky it might have been. I’m almost afraid to think it, but Braxton seems to like Ronan. He never likes men I date. I didn’t think he’d be any different with Ronan. It isn’t like Ronan doesn’t have the same reputation for arrogance and womanizing that the last few guys had. But Braxton never gives him the glowering stare I’m so used to seeing.

We’re all pretty tipsy by the end of the night, but we’re walking distance from my house, and Brax and Ky don’t have to drive home either. We get up from the table and Ronan excuses himself to the bathroom, so the rest of us wait in the lobby.

I look up at Braxton. He’s one of the few men I know who is actually tall enough that I have to look up, even when I’m wearing heels. “So, say something.”

He gives me an easy smile. “About what?”

“About Ronan.”

“He’s a good guy,” Braxton says with a nod.

“That’s it?”

“What am I supposed to say?” he asks with a laugh.

“What you think of him,” I say. “You didn’t glare at him across the table all night, and I want to know why.”

Braxton looks at me for a long moment. “He protected you when you needed help. That earned him a lot of points in my book. And he looks at you the way a man should look at you.”

I’m about to ask what he means when Ronan returns, putting a gentle hand on my elbow.

“Ready?” Ronan asks.

“Yeah.”

Ronan takes my hand, twining our fingers together. We say goodbye to Braxton and Kylie outside, and walk back to my place in a comfortable silence.

24: Ronan

Selene and I get out of my car and head into the hangar. After our last skydive, Selene decided she wanted to do it again. I hardly need an excuse to take to the air, so I was thrilled. Since she wanted to be able to jump on her own, she took the five hour skydiving course a week ago. The weather didn’t cooperate that day, so we didn’t get to jump. But today dawned clear, and the forecast calls for nothing but sun. It’s the perfect day to fly.

After a quick safety overview, we get geared up and head out to the plane. The air is chilly, and it will be colder up high, but my blood pumps hard, warming me. Selene’s eyes sparkle with excitement. I love sharing this with her, although I feel an unfamiliar twinge of fear as we board the plane. I’m not scared for myself—I’m buzzing with adrenaline in anticipation of the rush I know is coming. I’m worried about Selene. I know she can handle herself, and she’s been through the proper preparation. Yet I can’t shake the slight feeling of darkness that threatens my euphoria.

The plane takes off, the engines roaring. We watch the ground fall away below us through the window. Selene clasps her hands together and chews on her lower lip. I know she’s nervous. We’ll be jumping together, and I’ll be in constant physical contact with her until we deploy our chutes. She also has a radio in her helmet, connecting her to someone on the ground who will help guide her landing. It allays my fear a bit to know I’ll be with her the whole way down.

We circle wide, giving us a chance to appreciate the incredible views. My limbs tingle and I’m getting restless.

“You okay?” Selene asks, pitching her voice to be heard above the noise of the airplane.

“Yeah,” I say. “You ready for this?”

She nods and smiles, giving me a thumbs up.

We get to altitude and the jump coordinator opens the door. My heart thunders. Selene and I get into position, holding the bar above the opening. I meet her eyes, grab the strap at her hip, and give her a nod.

She lets go and we both tumble out of the plane. I could have let her jump without me holding her jumpsuit. I know how to navigate while free-falling, and I could have moved to her once we were in the air. But I want the security of my hand on her suit the whole time.

We spread out, horizontal to the ground, our arms and legs held up by the rushing air. Selene hollers with joy as we fall, and I let the high take over. There’s nothing like free-falling. High above the world, you’re flying, soaring through the fucking sky.

I check my altimeter more than usual, even though I know Selene has a voice in her ear, telling her what to do. I work my way around so I’m holding her arm, but in front of her so she can see me. She smiles, the air buffeting her face, and gives me another thumbs up.

We have about ten seconds before she needs to pull the chute. I’ll free-fall a little longer so I get below her and can land first. I want to be on the ground when she comes down in case she has any problems.

I motion to her to pull the cord and let go of her arm. My heart is in my throat, waiting for it to deploy. She pulls the cord and the lines shoot out around her. They’re tangled—turned in the wrong direction—and her chute isn’t opening properly. It jerks her up and I keep falling, but I can see the chute isn’t slowing her nearly enough. I turn so I’m facing skyward, but I can’t do anything but fall.

Fuck. Panic constricts my chest, and I can’t breathe. She’s going to hit the ground. She’s going to hit the ground and fucking die because I took her up here.

Deploy the reserve, Selene.
I will her to remember what to do, to listen to the instructions I’m sure she’s hearing through the radio in her helmet.
Deploy the reserve. Do it, Selene. Don’t keep falling. We’re getting too low, goddamnit. Deploy the fucking reserve.

Her main chute jettisons, flying away above her, and the reserve deploys. It opens perfectly, jerking her body, and her legs dangle below her.

I check my altimeter. I’m getting dangerously low. I turn over so I can pull the cord, deploying my own chute, and steer toward the landing zone.

Normally I wish the glide down would last longer, but this time I need to get on the fucking ground. I come in faster than I should, my feet pounding on the dirt as I land. The chute falls, and I unhook the straps, disentangling myself as quickly as I can.

I turn, desperate to see her land safely. She comes in perfectly, guiding her direction with the lines on each side, just like they taught her. The landing crew helps her down, ensuring she doesn’t hurt herself when her feet touch. She takes a few quick steps forward and stops, her chute deflating behind her.

I’m on fire with panic and adrenaline as I run over to her. I grab her and crush her against me, fear saturating every fiber of my mind and body. She could have died. Right here, in front of me. She could have died because of me.

I can’t live through that again.

I hold her tight and she wraps her arms around me.

“Fuck, are you okay?” I ask.

“Yes,” she says. “I’m fine, Ronan. I was scared for a second, but they told me what to do. It was okay.”

She tries to pull back, but I can’t let her go. Not yet. My body shakes and I can’t get enough air. For the first time since I started skydiving all those years ago, I’m not buzzing after a jump. My limbs are heavy and my chest feels like there’s a weight sitting on top of it. I wonder if my heart is going to explode into a bloody mess.

“Ronan,” she says, pushing against me. “Stop. I’m fine.”

I drop my arms, but looking at her doesn’t help. She takes off her goggles and smiles, but I can’t see her expression. All I see are her eyes wide with fear when the tangled lines twisted around her, the realization that something had gone wrong.

And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

Anger flares and I storm into the hangar, looking for Sam, the owner.

“What the fuck happened up there?” I say when I find him at his desk. “She’s a fucking beginner.”

Sam stands up. “Listen, Mr. Maddox, we’ve never had a main chute fail in a beginner jump before—”

“I don’t give a shit,” I say. “You just had one. Who packed her chute?”

“Mr. Maddox, her reserve chute clearly deployed exactly as it was meant to—”

“Fuck the reserve chute,” I yell, cutting him off again. “It shouldn’t have been necessary. You could have killed her.”

I hear Selene running up behind me. “Ronan,” she says. “Stop.”

“No,” I say, a hard edge to my voice. “You sent her up there with a faulty chute. A fucking beginner.”

“She was completely safe,” Sam says. “Our ground crew was in constant contact, relaying instructions, and Selene handled herself perfectly.”

“She was not safe!”

Selene puts her hand on my arm but I shrug her off. I’m so angry, I want to kill these assholes. I whip around and rip my jumpsuit off, tossing the last of the gear on the floor as I make my way to the exit. I have to get the fuck out of here before I hit someone.

I sit in my car, gripping the steering wheel, until Selene comes out a few minutes later. She gets in the car and fastens her seat belt.

“Ronan—”

“No.” I don’t want to hear her tell me she was fine. She was not fucking fine.

She closes her mouth and sits back in her seat. I start the car and drive out of the parking lot, heading toward the freeway.

Selene is quiet on the drive back to Seattle, looking out the window with her fingers resting against her lips. I almost can’t look at her. The quick glances I take out of the corner of my eye make me feel like I’m going to lose control and panic again.

Logically, I know Selene was okay the entire time. A reserve deployment isn’t uncommon, although it’s unusual in a beginner jump. I’m still livid that they gave her that chute. An experienced jumper can handle a reserve deployment. It happens to anyone if you jump often enough. I’ve had five, but I’ve jumped hundreds of times. But she never should have had to face that.