I avoided Ronan.
It wasn't easy. He had a way of always being around, of being just close enough that I could feel his presence even when I wasn't looking at him.
But I made myself scarce. I slipped out of rooms whenever he entered, I kept my head down when we bumped into each other.
But I knew he noticed.
Ronan wasn't stupid. If anything, he was too damn perceptive. He's always watching me with those sharp, knowing eyes, waiting for me to crack.
But I didn't.
I couldn't.
Because if I let myself get close to him again if I let myself sink into the comfort of his touch, I'd forget.
I'd forget the way Marco had looked at me. I'd forget the fire I saw in his eyes, the heat crawling under his skin like he was coming apart from the inside out.
I'd forget that, for a moment, I was afraid of him.
And I couldn't afford to forget that.
