Curvy Girls Can't Date Bad Boys - Kelsie Stelting Page 0,28

know where I met her?” He chuckled softly. Shook his head. “I used to go to Brentwood Academy.”

“What?” I couldn't believe the words that had come out of his mouth. Ronan looked like the furthest thing from an Academy kid, but he was quoting Dickinson and texting me in Latin. The pieces of the puzzle clashed and collided, not quite fitting together.

He looked forward, then down at his hands hanging limply in his lap. “You want to know why I look like this.”

I felt bad for judging him, but it was the truth. He didn’t need my answer to know; he just continued. “My stepfather was the ultimate Academy guy. Ever heard of Roy Taylor?”

My eyebrows came together. “The owner of the Brentwood Badgers?” The guy was stupid rich, and Dad was always trying to work out deals to get his players acting on screen or promoting a movie.

“That's the one,” he said with a sigh, seeming disappointed in the fact.

“So why...” I didn't finish my question, just let it hang there, but Ronan finished it for me.

“Why do I look like this? Why do I drive an old motorcycle and deliver takeout?” His words were bitter but resigned. “Because I didn't want anything to do with him, or his money, after I graduated.”

I could understand the draw of choosing freedom over comfort, but what had Roy Taylor done that was so bad? “What was he like?”

Ronan shook his head, like he was considering whether or not he wanted to go down this path with me, but finally he said, “Powerful. Demanding. And when he can’t get what he wants by pure intimidation alone, he uses force.”

The guy sitting beside me was strong, no doubt, but hearing him talk about his stepfather made him look like he was five years younger and much less capable. Had Roy hurt him? The thought of someone laying so much as a finger on Ronan made my stomach sick.

He ran his hands over his tattoos. “You wanted to know why I got these.”

It wasn't a question, but I nodded.

His thumb circled a star near the lines of his compass, and upon further examination, I noticed a circular scar underneath the black ink. The closer I looked at his arm, the more of the scars I saw.

“What are those?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine anything that would cause such a unique, circular mark.

“Cigarette burns.”

As my mind pieced together the round tip of a cigarette and the circular formation of his bruises, I really did feel sick. “Your stepfather did that to you?”

His jaw was tight as he nodded.

So much rage and disgust built in my body, it was hard to keep from shaking. Roy Taylor didn’t present as the kind of guy who did despicable things like that to their children and spouses, but here he was, one of the wealthiest and most well-liked people in Brentwood, and he used his power to abuse his stepson. I didn't miss the fact that all the burns were where they would be covered by an Academy’s long-sleeve uniform.

I swore to myself that I would never attend another one of the Brentwood Badgers’ sporting events again, not as long as Roy Taylor owned the team.

I covered the mark with my hand and said, “I'm so sorry that happened to you.”

Ronan’s jaw trembled for a fraction of a second, but he simply covered my hand with his and looked straight ahead. It might have been the dim lighting, but as he held me tighter, I swore I saw a tear in his eye.

Nineteen

We didn't talk much after Ronan’s confession. I had the feeling that opening up like that wasn't easy for him and that he didn't do it often. Honestly, I wondered if anyone knew about what his stepfather had done. If they had, it would have been in the public eye in seconds.

Had Ronan kept the secret from the public for his stepfather’s benefit? I didn't know how I would feel about it if he had. Part of me wanted to tell the police about Ronan’s stepfather, but I knew that would just scare him away, and right now, some part of me needed to be near him. Near the realness of him.

When the sun sank behind the horizon, he put his arm around me, and I didn't know if there was a better feeling in the world. He held me to his side like if the sun wasn’t going to come up in the morning, at least