I take half a step back. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He puts his hands up. “Honestly, I’m not playing games. It’s been a long day. I’m tired and I’d like to get a drink. It would be nice to not be alone.”
I almost hate to admit it, but I feel the same way. My feet are killing me, but it’s not even eight o’clock. The thought of spending the rest of my night alone in my hotel room isn’t very appealing. “All right.”
“Besides, it’s not like I can pick up women while I’m here,” he says with a grin. “I can’t violate the rules.”
I smile and shake my head.
He keeps his hand on the small of my back as we walk to our hotel. I know I should tell him to keep his hands to himself, but I like the way it feels. My mind starts to drift to what it would feel like to have his hands on my skin. We are fifteen hundred miles away from any of my coworkers…
We get to the bar and find a small table. I take a deep breath. I need to stop indulging in those kinds of thoughts.
The waitress brings our drinks, setting them on little white napkins. We talk for a while about the conference—interesting things we learned, people we met. After we finish our drinks, the waitress brings more.
“So, did you grow up in Seattle?” he asks.
“I did. I actually still live in the house I grew up in. What about you?”
“Stockton, California,” he says. “My folks still live there. You have a brother, is that right?”
I look at him for a second, narrowing my eyes. I can’t tell if he’s trying to pull something, or just interested in learning more about me. “I do. Braxton. We’re twins.”
His eyebrows lift. “Twins? That’s interesting. What’s he like?”
How do I explain my brother? “Braxton is … well, he owns his own business, training college and pro athletes. He’s kind of a showoff, but he’s fun to be around. And he’s extremely overprotective.”
“Are you two close?” he asks.
“Very,” I say. “We always have been. He lives right around the corner from me, so we see each other a lot.”
“Is he married?”
“Amazingly,” I say with a laugh.
“Why is that amazing?” Ronan asks.
“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.”