Page 29 of Beneath His Robes

I looked down at his hand, the calloused palm against mine. The last time I felt this was years ago, but it might as well have been yesterday.

“I’m not the same man I was,” I said, my voice thick with the weight of everything I’d done to distance myself from him…From us. “I can’t just undo all of it. I can’t throw it all away for one moment, for one kiss.”

Ronan stepped closer, his breath ghosting across my face, and I could feel his pulse, steady and sure, echoing through the touch of his fingers.

“I’m not asking you to undo anything, Elias. I’m asking you to stop pretending that this…” He brushed a thumb across my lips, his eyes softening slightly. “Isn’t something we both need. Something we both want.”

I closed my eyes, swallowing hard.

I wanted to push him away.

I needed to push him away.

But every fiber of my being was telling me to pull him closer. I was a man of faith. I had taken vows. I had responsibilities. But the truth I had never been able to outrun was that Ronan had never been just a lover. He had been a part of me, the piece of myself I had buried too deeply to erase.

And now, here he was in front of me. It was as if we were still the same two people from so long ago.

“I can’t be with you,” I said, the words barely audible now, as if saying them too loudly would make them too real.

Ronan’s hand shifted from my wrist to the back of my neck, his fingers threading through the dark hair at the nape. The touch was gentle, almost too gentle, but the way he tilted my head up to meet his gaze was anything but soft.

“You don’t have to be with me, Elias,” he murmured. His lips hovered just above mine, teasing, daring me to give in. “Not forever. But at this moment, we belong to each other. Don’t fight it. Not now.”

I could feel the heat of his lips, the proximity of his body against mine, and it was all too much. His words were like a poison, sweet and irresistible. His hands were pulling me closer, and despite everything I’d promised myself, I couldn’t stop from leaning into him.

I let out a shaky breath, and in that fragile moment, it felt like everything I’d fought to keep inside of me was slipping free, unraveling in the quiet of the snow-covered forest. I could feel the tension between us, the years of unresolved emotions, building to a breaking point.

But before I could give in, before I could allow myself to close the gap and kiss him again, something inside me snapped.

I pulled back, my chest heaving, my hands shaking with a mixture of fear and frustration.

“We can’t,” I whispered, unsure if I was trying to convince him or myself. “This isn’t right.”

Ronan didn’t step back.

Instead, he looked at me, his eyes dark and searching. He reached out, his fingers brushing against my cheek, and this time, there was no teasing. No games. Just the raw need that had always been between us.

“Maybe it’s not right,” he said quietly, his voice breaking the silence like a soft crack in ice. “But sometimes, Elias, things don’t have to be right to be real.”

“I can’t keep doing this,” I whispered. But it was already too late.

The snow started falling heavier, a thick veil of white slowly covering the ground beneath our feet. However, it might as well have been an illusion because the world around us faded into insignificance.

Ronan’s hand was still on my cheek, his touch almost reverent now as if he could feel the weight of what we had been and what we were now, standing in the midst of a snowstorm in a forest that had been our hiding place years ago.

“You’re still here, Elias,” he said, the words heavy with something that sounded like both accusation and longing. “Still pretending you don’t want me.”

“I don’t want this,” I whispered through clenched teeth, my voice hoarse, the weight of the words making my chest ache. “I don’t want you.”

The lie felt bitter on my tongue, but I had to say it. I had to, or I wouldn’t be able to walk away.

Ronan’s gaze softened then, his thumb brushing against my skin with the gentleness of a man who knew exactly how far he could push.

“Liar,” he whispered.

It was barely audible, but it cut through the cold air between us like a blade. He leaned forward, his lips brushing the curve of my ear, the heat of his breath sending another shiver down my spine. All I knew was that my resolve, my belief in the vow I had taken, was slipping, unraveling, one thread at a time.

“You’ve never stopped wanting me.”

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