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)
This morning, just after dawn, we both awoke before the alarm—me on my back, him on his side, watching me in that unreadable way of his. I’d half expected him to make an excuse to leave, but instead I found myself blurting, “Do you want to get together later?”
For a second, he stared like I’d asked him to hand over state secrets, and then that slow, mischievous smile broke through. “I have an idea… want to go somewhere and have fun?”
The words were wrapped in an unspoken promise. I said yes without hesitation, even though I’m not entirely sure what Ronan Barnes considers “fun.”
There’s no question I’m still good for tonight. I type a quick Yes before tucking the phone away, my pulse a little quicker than before.
“That better be someone who makes you smile like that on purpose.”
I turn to see Bex behind me, a full-blown smirk on her face.
I play it coy. “Maybe.”
Her brows lift. “Care to share?”
For a second, I hesitate. I told Carlos about Ronan and he was all dire warnings and predictions. He didn’t tell me anything I couldn’t have figured out on my own. But he’s a guy, and sometimes you need a woman’s take.
“I’m sort of seeing someone,” I say, trying not to smile again. A group of junior mechanics passes us in the hallway, their chatter echoing off the concrete walls, and Bex tilts her head toward the far side, guiding us into a quieter corner near a stack of shipping crates.
“It’s new,” I add quietly. “And it’s a little unconventional. I’m not sure—”
“Oh my God…” Her eyes widen. “You’re seeing Carlos? I knew it. I told Nash I thought—”
“No,” I cut in before she builds an entire gossip column in her head. “It’s not Carlos. I mean, he’s wonderful, but he’s like my dearest friend on the circuit—”
Bex narrows her eyes like she’s running through every other possible candidate. “If not Carlos, then who?”
I glance left, then right, dropping my voice even further. “Ronan.”
Her eyebrows practically launch into orbit. “You’re kidding me?”
“I’m not,” I assure her. My stomach flips, though I’m not sure if it’s from saying it out loud or from anticipating her reaction. “It just sort of… happened.”
Bex crosses her arms, still staring like she’s trying to decide if I’ve lost my mind. “But… he was at the gala last night with another woman.”
Heat crawls up my neck. “Yeah, well… that was someone he’d agreed to take ages ago and couldn’t get out of. But he was with me last night… after.” I don’t add details—God knows she doesn’t need them—but my tone leaves no room for misinterpretation.
“And so, are you two officially dating?”
I lift a shoulder in a half shrug, leaning against the wall. “I’m not sure what you call it. We’re seeing each other, and it’s exclusive, but… he wants to keep it private. And honestly, I’m not ready for the press to get a hold of this, so I’m okay with that. My life is already a circus in the public eye.”
Bex leans against the wall, mirroring my stance. The overhead fluorescents catch the faint smudge of grease on her cheek from earlier. “Private’s fine if it’s about avoiding the limelight. But make sure it’s not because he’s ashamed or trying to keep options open.”
I roll her words over in my head. It’s blunt, but it doesn’t come across as judgment—more like someone passing down hard-earned wisdom. “I don’t think it’s that,” I say finally. “I think… he’s guarded. He’s not exactly an open book.”
“That’s definitely his reputation.” She studies me for a long moment, as if weighing whether I’ll take her advice seriously. “If he’s worth your time, he’ll prove it in daylight too. Don’t let him make you feel like a secret if that’s not what you want.”
I let out a slow breath, because she’s right… about all of it. “I’m not sure what I want, but you’ve given me something to think about. I appreciate that.”
“Anytime.” Her expression softens into a grin. “And for what it’s worth? You could do worse.”
When I leave HQ later, the sky is the pale, washed-out blue of early evening. No follow-up text from Ronan yet, but I know it’s coming. I unlock my car, slide into the driver’s seat, and smile to myself, already wondering what he has planned tonight. And maybe worrying a little about how much I’m starting to want it.
My fingers hover over the ignition, then drift toward my phone instead. Before I can talk myself out of it, I scroll to Mamma and hit call. She answers on the second ring like she’s been expecting me.
“Francesca! Is everything all right?” my mother answers, a little breathless. In the background I can hear the faint clink of a spoon against a pot and a muffled male voice—probably Papà—asking where something is.