And it occurs to me that I want that someone to be me. For now and for always.
When he looks up at me with chocolate on his lips, I smile at him. He offers me a smile back. And goddamn, it's a beautiful thing.
I am so incredibly fucked.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sasha
Over the course of the next week, Ronan and I fall into a sort of pattern. He gets up every morning and goes to work just like any other man with a normal job would.
I don’t know exactly what else his job in the mafia entails, only that he does whatever Crow needs him to. Lately though he’s been taking on more responsibility. I’ve noticed a change in him, even just around Conor and Rory. He gives them instructions-mostly regarding watching over me-with an authority in his tone I’ve never heard before. Ronan’s always been the kind of guy that you didn’t fuck with, mostly because you could tell just by looking at him that you’d be wise not to. But now he’s carrying himself differently. Speaking more. And when he comes home at night, he’s exhausted.
He hasn’t let me leave the house, and when I try to ask about Andrei he gets very tense. So I’ve let the subject stay dead for now. I’ve kept myself occupied by drawing and cooking a lot. Ronan seems to like what I make him, and he’s even stopped sniffing everything before he eats it.
Those little signs of his trust in me mean so much more than he could ever know. It makes me think that maybe we could actually make this work between us. That he could be excited about this baby when I tell him.
But he’s also still holding back a part of himself. I’ve noticed every night after I fall asleep he disappears, and when I wake in the morning, he’s already dressed. It’s happened every night this week, and I’m not really sure what he’s doing.
So when we crawl into bed this evening, I have a plan. Ronan’s handsome face is marred by the dark circles under his eyes, but it still doesn’t stop him from mauling me. He’s getting more comfortable with that too.
When we finish and he collapses on the bed beside me, I curl up in his arms and close my eyes. And then I wait. And wait some more. My breathing is steady and even when he finally slips out from beneath me and covers me over with the blankets.
He grabs some clothes from the dresser before his footsteps move down the hall. I give it a couple of minutes before I go to investigate. And when I find him lying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, I frown.
“Do you not want me in your bed?” I ask.
My voice startles him, and he glances up at me in confusion. “I do,” he answers. “I want ye in my bed, always.”
“Why are you out here? Is this where you’ve been all week?”
He glances down and blows out a breath. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought it was better this way.”
My hands tremble as I wrap them around myself. I don’t expect Ronan to know I’m upset, since he’s not very good at understanding emotions. But he gets up and walks to me, pulling me into his arms and kissing me on the forehead. It’s a gesture so sweet and unexpected, it dissolves the fear right out of my mind.
“I don’t mean to upset you,” he says. “I worry that I might hurt ye. Like last time. I could not live with myself if I did that to you again, Sasha.”
I reach up and stroke the dark circles beneath his eyes with my fingers. “You should have told me, Ronan. You’ve been losing sleep. We could have talked about it.”
“Why?” he asks.
“Because I know that you aren’t going to hurt me. That night, you were on medication. And I shouldn’t have been touching you when you were so out of it. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I hurt you,” he repeats.
“It won’t happen again,” I assure him.
He shakes his head, and I can see this is going to be another battle with him. But it’s one I’m willing to fight. I grab his hand and thread my fingers through his, leading him back down the hall to his bedroom.
“Lay down, please.”
He hesitates, so I climb onto the inside of the bed and pat the space across from me. Eventually he gives in, but it’s only to appease me. He plans to leave again once I fall asleep. Too bad for him, I’ve got plans of my own.
I reach out and run my fingers through his hair, and he closes his eyes. I gently massage his scalp and then work my way to his neck and shoulders. The tension drains from his muscles, and within minutes, he is asleep.
I nestle close enough to feel his warmth but am careful not to touch him anywhere else. And when I close my eyes, I feel safer just knowing he’s there.
***
I wake up to the sound of heavy breathing.
Ronan’s body is rigid against mine, a sure sign he’s in the throes of another night terror. He’s not making a sound, but by the way he’s jerking against me, it’s obvious he’s reliving one of his horrors.