The thing was—and it had taken me a long while to fully absorb this—Flynn had never really been onboard with the idea of the two of us hooking up.
That delusion was all mine.
“Look…” he said, seeming unsure. “Summer… I….”
“It’s no big deal. Really,” I assured him. “So you rejected me. I’m a big girl. And I get it. I’m not for everyone. I’m sassy and loud. Sometimes, I catch on fire at fancy parties…” I was trying to make him laugh, maybe… something… but as usual, it wasn’t working. “I’m sure everyone has their type, and for some guys, girls who catch on fire just aren’t—”
“It’s not you,” he said, probably just to shut me up.
“Right. Heard that one before. You don’t need to spare my feelings, Flynn. Really. So I don’t float your boat. So what?”
He cleared his throat, like he’d rather be on fire than having this conversation.
“I mean,” I pressed on, “you could’ve just told me you’re not attracted to me—”
“There’s someone else,” he practically coughed out.
My jaw dropped.
Holy fuck. He was serious.
“Oh,” I said. “It’s really not me?”
“No,” he said.
And then he shut right up.
I leaned forward, scooting to the edge of my seat. Because there was something he wasn’t saying. “What? I am literally on the edge of my seat here. Who is it?”
“It’s… nothing.” He sounded all uncomfortable and freaked out, like he was afraid someone might overhear that he had human feelings. “Don’t say anything, okay?”
I waited. I could practically hear the sweat collecting on his forehead like bullets. “But… who is it? I thought you were single. Wait. You told Elle you were single.” I knew that, because she’d casually inquired on my behalf.
We’d both always assumed Flynn was single, but the man was so damn private. So Elle had asked him, just a few weeks ago, if he was involved with anyone.
He’d said no.
“Summer…”
“Why are you being weird?”
“I’d prefer not to talk—”
“Oh my God. Hold the phone. Are you not with her?”
“Uh—”
“You’re in love with someone you’re not even with??”
“I didn’t say I was—”
“Does she even know? Have you told her? Is this a secret thing? An unrequited thing?”
He coughed awkwardly.
Yeah. Hit that one on the head.
“Holy shit. This is juicy.”
“It’s not.”
“Come on, Flynn. You won’t tell me who it is? I won’t blab.”
I wouldn’t. (Maybe.) But I desperately wanted to know this shit.
“Let’s just forget I said anything,” he suggested.
And then something occurred to me. Something… not so fucking good.
“Oh… Flynn. Promise me it’s not Elle.”
“No. It’s not Elle,” he said firmly. “Of course it’s not Elle.”
Well, that was a fucking relief. Because Elle was not available. For him or anyone else. She was madly in love with her man, Seth, who I happened to be a serious fan of, and the two of them had a baby together. If any guy even thought about trying to threaten that, especially while Seth was away on tour with Dirty, he’d have the sharp end of my most kick-ass stilettos to deal with.
But… in insisting that it wasn’t Elle… he’d confirmed that it was someone else.
He was totally in love with someone.
“Could we, uh, please be done with this conversation?” I could hear the discomfort in his voice. But Flynn would never hang up on me. He was too polite.
So, I let him off the hook.
For now.
“Okay. It’s done. And rest assured, I’m done flirting with you. Ish.”
“Uh-huh.” He didn’t sound convinced.
Of course, I never really stopped flirting. He probably knew that. But at least now he’d know not to take it personally anymore.
“I just don’t like a hot guy to go to waste,” I went on. “And it always seemed like such a giant waste to let you just hang around all the time and go unenjoyed.”
“Uh-huh…”
“But don’t worry. I also consider myself an excellent matchmaker.”
He groaned silently. But I heard it.
And he had reason to fear.
I’d find out who this mystery girl was.
“Alright, alright,” I said. “Glad we got that sorted. But that’s really not the main reason I called.”
“It’s not?” The hope in his voice was adorable.
“No. I called about Ronan Sterling. Elle tells me you used to work for him.”
“I did.”
“So what can you tell me about him?”
“Well… I can tell you he’s one of the most respected security professionals in town. And there’s good reason for it.”
“How long did you work for him?”
“About three years.”
“And why did you leave his company to work for Dirty?”
“Because Dirty made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Why?”
“What was Ronan like to work for?” I settled back in my recliner and tossed my feet up. “Was he nice to you? Or was he a dick? Does he have any weird habits? Fetishes? Secret babies?”
Silence.
“Come on. Guys talk, right?”
Silence again. “Uh, Summer? Are you digging for dirt on your new bodyguard?”
“Why would I do that?” I said innocently.
Flynn cleared his throat. “I’m not sure what you’re hoping to hear. But all I can tell you is that you’re in great—”
“Great hands,” I parroted. “I know, I know. So I’ve been told.”
“Brody and Jude have put the best guy they possibly can on your security detail,” he assured me. “And if you want gossip… you’ve come to the wrong place.”
I sighed. “Fine. Thank you for your ringing endorsement. I feel better already.”
“You should,” he said seriously. “If I had a daughter who needed a bodyguard, I’d hire Ronan.”
“Daughter? What are you, like four years older than me, and now I’m your daughter?”
“I meant… you know, someone who was precious to me.”
“You’re adorable, Flynn. I can’t wait to see you hook up with this dream girl of yours.”
He did that silent groan thing again.
“And if it’s Elle, please know I will be sending Ronan to murder you.”
“He’s a bodyguard,” Flynn said dryly, “not a hitman. And it’s not Elle.”
“If you’d just tell me her name,” I said sweetly, “it would make this a lot easier.”
“I have to go. I think Elle’s calling me.”
“Sure she is. Have a lovely day, Flynn.”
“You too, Summer,” he said.
I hung up, annoyed that I didn’t have any dirt on Ronan.
But I was pleased, of course, that he’d passed my Flynn test. At this point, I probably trusted Flynn more than Jude or even Brody where my security was concerned, because I’d seen Flynn in action for the last year, as Elle’s bodyguard, and the man did not fuck around. In a good way.
I was also pretty fucking determined to get him laid, so I was going to find out who this mystery girl was.
I went to get changed into my yoga clothes. Kind of regretted the stress eating; probably made that salad a lot bigger than I needed to right before a yoga session. But not much I could do about that now.
My girlfriend Carissa arrived, right on time, in her tie-dyed yoga wear, all blonde hair and sunshine. Yoga mat rolled under her arm, bag loaded down with her aromatherapy diffuser and essential oils. I could smell the lavender scented eye pillows for Shavasana, and I already felt more relaxed.
Ronan came out of the guest room to see who was at the door, and he was pretty damn
chilly about it when he offered his hand and said, “Ronan,” like he only spoke in single word sentences.
“Carissa,” she said breezily. “Wow. You’ve got an incredible grip.”
He didn’t seem to warm to that assessment, though he did excuse himself and disappear back down the hall. This time, I noticed he left the guest room door open.
Carissa and I headed into the sunroom to practice Hatha yoga. She was an amazing instructor, and an hour later I was both limber as shit and more relaxed than I’d been in days.
I didn’t mention to her what had happened last night. We were close friends, yet I didn’t at any point feel the need to tell her that the police had been here with a dog unit, or that Ronan was now my bodyguard. She didn’t ask about him. I had people in and out of my house all the time. She’d just assume he was a friend or a lover. No explanation needed.
When we said our goodbyes out by her car after our post-yoga tea, though, she looked over at him. He was standing in the trees along my side yard, studying my fence. “Is that a new one?” she whispered.
“Oh, he’s new.”
She squinted at him. “Is he fixing your fence or something?”
He definitely seemed to be poking at my fence, though he didn’t have any tools in his hands. “Probably making sure it’s structurally sound. He’s, uh, handy like that.”
“Well. Get it, girl. Very tough-guy handsome.” She kissed my cheek and got in her car.
I stood by the driveway and waved as she pulled out and drove away. Then I glanced over at Ronan, who was now bent over, poking at something at the base of a fence post.
Since I hadn’t yet had such a grand opportunity to check out his backside, I definitely did.
Looked as fantastic as his front side.
Carissa wasn’t into men in the sexual sense, so she was probably more underwhelmed by Ronan’s… assets… than my straight girlfriends would be. But I wasn’t above ogling that view.
I wandered over. Ronan stood up but didn’t say anything. Just craned his neck to look over the top of the high fence.
“Spying on my neighbors?”
“Just checking out the perimeter of the property. You’ve got a rotten fence post here. Should be replaced.”
“Thanks. How very thorough of you to notice.”
“Not much use having a fence if someone can just kick it over.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Do you know your neighbors?” he inquired, not-casually.
I laughed. “Uh, yeah. They’re not burglars or stalkers, believe me. And they’re the best neighbors in the world, so don’t piss them off. That,” I informed him, pointing over the fence in front of us, “is an eighty-something practically deaf lady who thinks I’m the sweetest thing since peppermint candy and couldn’t give a fuck about my house parties because she can’t hear them. We love her.”
“Got it.”
“And that,” I said, pointing to the other side of the house, “is a rental inhabited by revolving female university students who also don’t give a fuck about my house parties because they have house parties of their own. Besides that, one of them met Ashley in my driveway like two years ago, and they still tell the tale. I’m a legend now. Sometimes they bake me pot brownies.”
Ronan raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“And behind me is a snooty couple with no kids. They’re dicks. But they also tolerate my house parties because they’re out of town ninety-percent of the time.”
“I’m picking up on a pattern here. Do you have a lot of house parties?”
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
“Hmm.” He frowned and continued making his way along the fence. I followed, curious.
Was he always this frowny about parties?
“What are you looking for?”
“Anything that stands out,” he said. As if that told me anything.
When we got to the backyard, he headed over to the house and walked across the patio, then made his way around the windowed walls of the sunroom. He ran his fingertips lightly over the edges of the windows as he went, and I followed, watching.
When he reached the end of the sunroom, where it met the house, he stopped dead. I almost bumped into him.
He crouched down, looking at something on the ground.
“What?” I tried to peek over his enormous, hunched shoulder. “What did you find?”
He stood up and shifted aside, toeing something in the grass with his boot. “You see that?”
I looked where he indicated, and sure enough, there was something there. Bits of broken glass, kinda hidden in the grass. “What is that?”
“It’s a crack pipe,” he said. “A broken crack pipe.”
“What?” I craned to get a better look at it.
What the hell was that doing in my yard?
Ronan poked around in the grass with his boot a bit. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Yes, I had a lot of house parties. Great house parties. But I knew my guests. I had wild friends. Not stupid friends.
I really, really couldn’t picture anyone I knew sneaking back here to smoke crack, then coming back inside to mingle and drink martinis.
I wasn’t even sure what to say. Ronan was feeling up the wall again; he seemed to be searching for finger holds.
“You’re telling me one of my friends is a secret crackhead?”
He looked at me. “Where, exactly, did the police dog catch Sanchuk?”
I looked at the wall, right where we were standing. Beneath my bedroom balcony. “Right… here,” I said, touching the window. “Wait. You think it’s his?”
“He probably dropped it. On purpose. He knew the cops had him, so he ditched it so they wouldn’t find it on him.”
“Shiiit.” I thought about that, and I really wasn’t liking the conclusion I was drawing in my head… “A few of my girlfriends told me he offered them meth at my shows.”
We both looked at the shattered pipe.
“Could be for smoking meth,” he said.
Fuck me.
I looked up into his eyes again, feeling fucking stupid for some reason. The fact that Blair had offered meth to my friends at my shows was one of the reasons I’d tried to distance myself from him; but I hadn’t told Ronan about that. “I guess I should’ve mentioned that to you.”
“I heard,” he said. “You had Flynn bounce him out of an event a couple of weeks ago?”
“Yeah…” I said, realizing that I probably didn’t need to tell him anything. Brody or Flynn or whoever had beaten me to it.
That irritated me. That they’d been talking about me.
But of course they’d been talking about me.
Summer makes pour choices.
Summer has crazy stalker methhead friends.
I looked around in the grass. “There’s nothing else here, though.” Then I looked up into Ronan’s eyes again, and I could see the gears turning behind his eyes. “He didn’t ditch any drugs to go along with the pipe…”
“No.”
“Which means… he smoked them already? Right before he climbed my wall?”
“It doesn’t mean that.”
“Meth is a stimulant. That means… it increases sex drive, right?”
Ronan didn’t answer that. He didn’t really have to.
And the thought of Blair smoking that shit and then trying to climb into my bedroom…
“We don’t know he smoked anything that night,” he said firmly.
But it didn’t make me feel any better.
I looked at the broken pipe. “What do we do with it?”
“I’ll take care of it,” he said. “Just don’t step on it.” Then he continued his fine-toothed combing of the yard.
I went after him, watching for more drug crap in my grass as I followed him around the back and the other side of the house.
“I really don’t understand what you’re looking for. I can get the fence post fixed or replaced or whatever. This house is totally safe. I’ve never had a break-in…�
� My words faded off as he found the coffee can under the bushes.
He picked it up. “What’s this,” he said, like he knew exactly what it was.
“Nothing.” I plucked it from his hand.
“Nothing,” he repeated. “So, you’re telling me that’s just random garbage?”
“Guess so.”
“That’s strange. Wonder how it got tucked under the bush like that. The rest of the yard is so pristine.”
I planted one hand on my hip, the other one holding the coffee can. “There’s a kid in the neighborhood who takes care of it for me. Mows the lawn and pulls the weeds and stuff. He does a great job.”
“And yet he missed that somehow.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I put it there,” I admitted, because clearly he already knew it. “And I told him to leave it.”
“Please do not tell me you keep a house key in there.”
I turned the empty can over and shook it dramatically. “No key, Magnum P.I..” Thank God I’d thought of it today, and pulled it out of here. It was now safely in my bedroom.
Really should’ve taken the whole can.
Ronan stared me down with his light-brown eyes. They looked all golden, like melted caramel, in the sun. There was a glimmer of fire in them, though, a sharp contrast to his stony expression. “Where’s the key, Summer?”
I sighed. “No one knows about it but my friends.”
“I hope you know not everyone is your friend,” he retorted.
“Obviously.”
“What about your yard boy?”
“He’s fifteen and as pure as the driven snow. Really, you’re overthinking this.”
He made a skeptical little growl sound in his throat.
“Fine. No more key in the bushes.” I gave the empty can another little shake for effect.
Then I turned on my heel and took my precious coffee can back in the house, where I tossed it in the recycling bin.
Damn, I didn’t like him winning that one.
While Ronan was still outside, I heard a vehicle in my driveway. It was a work van. I watched from a window as Ronan greeted Maddox and the other guy who got out. They shook hands and talked in the driveway for a bit, looking up at my house and pointing at various parts of it.
Then Ronan brought the guys into the house. I pretended to be doing something in the kitchen, for some reason. I went over to meet Maddox’s co-worker when Ronan introduced him to me.
Sweet Temptation: A Players Rockstar Romance (Players, Book 3) Page 10
