Page 65 of Save Me
“Damn, Sea Witch.” He chuckles as he pulls up his pants. “It’s a little early for this.”
“Early in the day orearly?”
Curious eyes flip to me as he draws his zipper up. “Why’re you asking?”
Am I being too obvious? Is he about to piece my secret together like others have? Have a eureka moment and run out my door?
Knots twist in my stomach as he waits on an answer.
I settle on, “Because I’m thirty-one, and I don’t like wasting my time.” That’s the truth.
But not the whole truth.
I hold my breath as Ronan draws his shirt on. Leaving his buttons undone, he grabs his shoes and socks from the floor and sets them on my dresser by the door before backtracking to kneel on the bed. Hard eyes bore into me from above as he rests his palms on either side of my pillow to hover over me. “I’m not wasting your time, Sloane.”
A sigh escapes me, even if he hasn’t answered my question.
“Areyouwastingmytime?”
What? “No.”
“Good.” Leaning down, Ronan presses a kiss against my lips, one that’s gentle and yet full of heat. “I’ll call you later,” he whispers, kissing me a second time.
I watch his back as he departs from my room. The front door creaks open a moment later, leaving me alone in my house to a flurry of confusing thoughts. What if Iamwasting Ronan’s time by not being completely open and honest with him? By letting this thing between us go on when there’s a potentially huge diversion up ahead that I haven’t warned him about?
Would I even be weighing my options if Ronan said he was on board?
I’ve spent all this time worrying that it’s not what he wants, but what if it is? What if he knew about the pregnancy and was all in? Would I have made a decision by now?
Yes, maybe.
Which means that maybe I shouldn’t be making this decision alone.
A flutter of nerves explodes in my stomach.
Tonight.
I have to tell Ronan tonight.
16.Ronan
Three men loiter by the clubhouse gates when I arrive at two minutes before seven, the golf cart I commandeered to race here coming to a jarring halt. Behind them, Archie and the other caddies wait with the clubs.
I could pick out Henry from a mile away just by the way he stands, like he owns the air we’re all breathing. But he seems in a good mood this morning, his deep laughter carrying through the calm morning. It’s likely an act. He can fake anything for the sake of his business.
“… it’s not every day you get an entire course to yourself,” the burly man with a full head of short and curlies says. I recognize his face from the files. That’s Jim Harris, CEO of Axis Core, the major consulting firm out of New York City. The other guy is Mark Mancuso, his CFO.
“And here is our fourth,” Henry announces, checking his watch as if to make a point.
I knew that punch was going to leave a mark, butdamn,the purple bruising under his left eye is dark. I flex my hand to test the soreness.
The truth is, I almost bailed on this tee time, on this meeting, on this whole goddamn director’s charade. I was standing under the showerhead at home—Henry’s home—letting the water soak my skin as I replayed my favorite moments with Sloane and wondering why I’d want to be anywhere other than still lying in bed next to her.
When I toweled up, I nearly packed my shit then and there.
But I decided against it. Why make it easy for Henry by quitting? He can man up and fire me to my face.
A part of me is relieved he hasn’t done it—yet. If nothing else, it would certainly complicate things for this weekend, given Britt and Dani are staying at the house. And then there’s Tasha as well.
