He stared at me like I was out of my mind when I stubbed it out before picking it up. And then like I was actually certifiable when I slipped it into his coat pocket.
“Do you want to live on Mars?” I asked. “Because I don’t.”
“Are you sure you’re not from Mars?”
“Ha ha. I’ve read better jokes in the joke book our cook Borya keeps next to the toilet.”
That earned me an actual laugh, one that sobered as fast as it came. Because Ronan stood behind me watching us like we were both Martians who had displeased him.
He opened the car door, and I slid into the back seat. When he sat beside me, the silence pressed on my chest. Ronan wasn’t even looking at me but out the window, though his presence chafed my skin. He didn’t have to say it for me to know he wasn’t happy I gave my coat away. I had a feeling it didn’t have anything to do with the money but something else entirely.
“I’m sorry.” I swallowed. “About the coat.”
His gaze met mine, searching and thoughtful, the weight of it stunning my body with a nervous energy. “You’re big on apologies.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but, consumed by this man’s quiet disapproval that rivaled my papa’s, what came out was, “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said. “You shouldn’t give a fuck about what other people think. Trust me, they don’t care about you.”
For some reason, his words felt like a warning.
He was a conundrum dressed in Valentino with “fuck” on his lips . . . I didn’t know why I found the contrast attractive. Maybe the novelty and honesty of it.
“That’s a very pessimistic view.”
He fought a smile like what I said was cute. “It’s a realist’s view.”
It felt like I needed to prove him wrong, to convince him not everyone was out to get him. I may not believe in magical happily ever afters, but I’d seen goodness in its purest forms. I’d seen a man give the shirt off his back to someone who needed it more. I’d seen mothers walk miles to make sure their children were fed. There was good in this world, and that was a hill I’d die on.
“The boy in that picture in your office, I bet he cares about you.”
There was something between them—two dirty, homeless boys on the street—that screamed loyalty.
“And who cares about you?”
I didn’t hesitate. “My papa.” I knew it was true. No matter the secrets he withheld from me and the anxieties of abandonment, I knew he loved me.
Ronan found something unpleasant in my response. “You have a soft heart.”
I didn’t say anything because, as annoying as it could sometimes be, it was true.
“Don’t,” he said, as if I could simply change it. “The soft ones are easier to break.”
I wondered who gave this man such a jaded view on life, who cast him out into the cold street. Whatever happened to him, he was still kind and generous, and I couldn’t help but find that incredibly attractive.
“The soft ones are the most loyal,” I countered.
“And naïve.”
“If you mean trusting, yes.”
“I meant naïve,” he deadpanned.
“It’s not a crime to look for the best in people.”
Albert grunted from the driver’s seat, apparently eavesdropping.
I raised a brow. “If the world’s so bad, then why did you help me, a stranger?”
My words strangled the air as we held each other’s stares. I had to look away—needed to give in to the physical pull to avert my gaze before a click or a pop sounded against my head—but I didn’t. I didn’t want to. Somehow, this had turned into a challenge. He didn’t like it.
Or maybe he just wasn’t used to it.
His gaze narrowed. “Don’t play games you can’t win.”
“I’m not a sore loser,” I said, unwilling to give in just yet.
“You’re altruism’s poster child, aren’t you?”
“Of course not.” So many things said otherwise, but the defense that slipped out sounded superficial to my own ears. “Sometimes I eat dairy when there’s no other option.”
As if he couldn’t help it, he laughed softly. “That’s a concerning issue, kotyonok. I don’t think I’ll be able to look at you the same way again.”
All I got from that was he might want to see me again.
I ignored the annoying blush on my cheeks, but he must have noticed it because his expression went grim.
“You’re too sweet for your own good.”
“You can have some. There’s plenty to go around.” The offer escaped me without a