THIRTY SIX

Justine

Ronan spends the entire day Sunday treating me like a princess. We go shopping at expensive boutiques where I expect to feel completely out of place, but instead I'm pampered and fussed over almost as much by the staff as by Ronan.

We walk along the Seine after lunch. Then he takes me back to the hotel and literally makes me come until I pass out.

It's amazing, but something is on my mind.

Actually something feels like it's clawing its way out of my throat to leap out of my mouth and by the time we walk hand in hand down to a chic little bar for a final drink before our flight home, it bursts out. "What happens tomorrow?"

My palms are so sweaty I wipe them on my new white jeans beneath the table. I think he's about to tell me tomorrow we go back to pretending not to know each other. That it's been nice, wonderful even, and he'll cherish the memory, but he doesn't want to be tied down.

Ronan leans back, folding his arms across his chest. "We go back to work. It's Monday, is it not?"

I look down into my cocktail to avoid letting the tight feeling in my throat turn into actual tears. "Yeah. It's Monday."

"Then after work, I want you to bring that delectable pussy to my apartment so I can eat you for dessert before I fall asleep with you in my arms."

I fumble with the straw and a large slosh of liquid tips onto the table. I look around to see if anyone heard.

Ronan chuckles. "Still so pretty when I make you blush. Gets me every time."

"Did you mean it?" I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and dart a look up at him. My heart is racing. Where did this Ronan come from? He has me so off balance.

"When do I say anything I don't mean?"

He has a point. Though, I still don't know how to feel about what he said last night.

"Then are we... are we dating? Are we public?"

The smirk drops from his face and my heart, which had started dancing around inside my chest to an excited beat, stumbles to a cautious plod. "I'm not ashamed of you. I'm not going to sneak around and hide the fact that I want to see you. Often."

My heart wiggles her hips a little.

"And other people will want to put names on it. They'll want to ask annoying questions and speculate about our future. I'm not interested in what they say. What's important is that you and I are clear about what we are and what we're not."

Oh.

When I don't say anything, Ronan continues, reaching across the table for my hands. "I care about you, Justine, and I don't want to see you get hurt. This only works if you can be OK with what I can offer."

I look into his eyes and see the truth of what he's saying there. His expression is more earnest and open than I can remember seeing except if you count when he was actually inside me. I truly believe he does care about me. "Then, what are we?"

"Firstly, friends. That's important. I want you to know that no matter what you decide, I'll always look out for you."

I cringe. He's about to tell me he cares for me, so he's letting me go live my life. "I know you care." I can't bear to look at him.

"Lovers."

My gaze snaps back to his and my mouth drops open. He wants to be lovers? To have a relationship?

"We can be exclusive if you'd like that. I'm not interested in seeing anyone else and if that's important to you, that's one thing I can offer."

Despite everything else, that warms me. Surely this is progress. "But...?" There has to be a but. A sting in the tail. He wouldn't have prefaced this as carefully as he has if there weren't.

Ronan sighs. "But I'm not the marrying kind. You already know I don't want children—can't have children. And it wouldn't be fair of me to let you believe that I'll change my mind on that."

The light breezy atmosphere of the Paris afternoon has shifted into evening. Outside, a woman tucks her coat more tightly around herself as the wind picks up.

The waitress comes to take away our empty glasses while I'm still processing Ronan's words.

"Will there be anything else, monsieur? Madame?"

Ronan looks at me, the unspoken question hangs in the air between us ironically. The waitress gives us a strange look when neither one of us answers for another long moment. "Excuse moi—"

"Non. Rien d'autre. Merci."

She nods and moves away, tidying the table beside us before retreating behind the counter.

"Can you live with that, Justine?" Ronan asks, his eyes imploring.

I think about everything he's been through. The loss of his father and the walls he clearly still has up. Of course, it will take him some time to see things differently. It's not just wishful thinking on my part. Look how much his attitude changed in the space of a couple months.

I squeeze his hand across the table. "Of course. Let's just take things one day at a time." I give him my brightest smile so he knows I'm OK. And I am.

People change. They grow.

I just need to give him time.

Courtney is full of excitement when I get home. She leaps up from the couch the moment I get through the door. I'm carrying about five times as much luggage as I left with. I don't even know how all the new things Ronan bought me will fit into my room!

"Ohmigod! How was it? Tell me everything!" She grabs my hands and tugs me over to the sofa until I'm forced to sit. I giggle. "It was amazing. Paris, Courts! And shopping and galleries and fine dining and the Ritz!"

She squeals. "It sounds so romantic! Please tell me it was romantic."

I flush. "So romantic."

Courtney pulls me into a huge hug. "Oh, Justine. That is just the best. I'm so glad he's changed his mind. When do I get to meet him?"

I pull back. "Well, that's the thing..."

Courtney frowns. "What is?"

"I'm not exactly sure he's up for meeting."

"What do you mean?" She pouts. "Oh no! Is he a snob?"

"No! It's not that, it's just..." I trail off, finding it hard to put into words without making Ronan seem callous.

"Just?" Courtney prompts.

I sigh. "We're not exactly dating. More like friends with benefits. Do you meet the friends of your friend with benefits?"

Courtney's mouth drops open. "Excuse me? You guys were married! That should count for something! I think I'm back on the hating stern minotaur daddy train."

"Don't be like that." I want to defend him, but the truth is I'm still a little hurt by the way that conversation went. "I think he just needs time. There are reasons why he can't commit yet."

"Really?"

I know why she's skeptical. I sound like I'm making excuses.

Aren't I making excuses?

"What about you?" Courtney pushes. "How do you feel? And don't try to lie, Just. You're not the kind of person who has friends with benefits. You know you're not. Not that there's anything wrong with that. It just isn't you."

I hang my head. "It's not."

Courtney doesn't say anything more for a long time. She doesn't need to. It's part of what I love about her.

Eventually, I yawn. "It was really romantic, though."

"Hey," Courtney stops me as I'm about to go to bed. I pause in the doorway, looking back at her. "It's OK to want it. Don't let me judge you. I'm just looking out for my best friend."

I give her a smile. "Yeah. I know. Thanks."

I know she's not. Trouble is I'm judging myself. I've made mistakes in the past, putting myself out on a limb for a guy who really didn't deserve it. Am I just doing the same thing here?

I refuse to believe Ronan is the same as Cameron. They're not even in the same ball park.

Yet, it would be just like me to fall for someone who can't give me what I really want. Apparently, I have a type.

Emotionally unavailable.

I'll have to be careful. I can't give my heart completely until I know he can change.