“What happens if we have a fight or if something bad happens—you’ll just go back to drugs? Drugs I didn’t even know existed in the first place? How can I trust that?”

“No, never again. I fucked up, Clare. I don’t know how you can trust my word again, but I’m asking you to do it anyway. I don’t deserve someone as wonderful as you, but I’m selfishly asking for you anyway.” His voice turned softer, pleading. “I need you, Clare. I need you more than I ever knew I could need someone. Please, mhuirnín.”

Clare paused for a moment, searching his eyes as if she was trying to decide whether or not to believe him. He stayed silent and gently rubbed his fingers up and down her upper arms slowly, waiting for her to say something, but she didn’t.

He was putting himself out there for her, but she wasn’t giving him anything back. It was absolute torment. He broke the silence. “Why did you leave, Clare? Why did you leave me?”

“I didn’t leave you.” Her eyes widened, as if she was shocked that he would think that. “I was going to contact you when I figured out where I was going, but then I ran into your cousin. I would have eventually let you know that I was gone, once I figured things out myself.”

“What are you not telling me, Clare?” He knew he sounded frustrated, but he could see she was keeping something from him, and every second he had to dig for it frustrated him even more.

“Travis Creighton, my ex-boyfriend—he found me,” she blurted out, terror frozen on her face.

“That’s why you left California—you were on the run from your ex?” He started putting together the pieces, and she nodded in confirmation.

“He called me on Wednesday night at O’Leary’s and said he knew where I worked and where I lived and he was coming for me. I had to get out of there as soon as possible—if he finds me, he—” A tremor rocked through her body before she resorted to whispering. “I don’t know what he will do.”

Rory recalled the fear he had seen in her before at the mention of her ex-boyfriend, remembering she had told him he would get rough with her. Add that to what Casey told him about Travis Creighton being a drug addict, or dealer, and it sounded like he was definitely an unpleasant person.

“Look at me.” Two of his fingers tilted her chin to look up at him.

She was still pressed between him and the wall; one of his arms was around her waist, pressing her hips into him while her top half leaned back against the brick. She was trembling, which made his heart ache, but at the same time it made him want her even more. He wasn’t paying attention to anything else around him; all he could focus on was her warm body molded to his.

“If you’re with me, Clare, there is never a reason to run. Ever. You got that?”

She nodded and bit her lip nervously, but she didn’t look convinced yet.

“If you’re with me, I will never let anything happen to you. No one will ever touch you. As long as I’m breathing, you are safe. He can’t hurt you; I would never allow it. Do you believe me? Do you believe that I can protect you?” He dropped his tone lower as he finished talking, and he felt her shiver against him, which made his concentration difficult.

“I trust you,” she whispered after a second passed. He took the opportunity to descend slowly and cover her lips with his. It wasn’t a heated or passionate kiss. It was tender and soft, affectionate and reassuring. He wanted her to feel in this kiss everything that he was feeling inside himself.

“And Clare?” He broke away to look at her intently.

“Yes?”

“You’re with me now. Tá mé leatsa. Tá tú mianach. I’m never letting you go again.” He kissed her once more, talking into her lips. “Are you okay with that, girlfriend?”

“More than okay.” A smile finally stole its way onto her face, and he kissed her again, deeper and hungrier this time.

—

Clare’s mind was reeling as she entered Rory’s apartment behind him, less than thirty minutes later. His fingers were intertwined with hers as he took her hand to lead her inside, kissing her while he closed the door behind her. He unbuttoned her coat, sliding it down her arms to drop in a puddle around her feet. She did the same for his jacket, licking her lips as her hands landed on his firm chest.

She responded by wrapping her arms around his neck, letting his lips meet hers again. It had been only two days, but she had missed him fiercely. She was terrified about everything she had seen yesterday, yet she believed him when he told her that those mistakes were behind him.

Believing him went against everything she had ever taught herself; she had learned not to trust anyone and that everyone only lied.

But for the first time, she wasn’t following her own advice.

She was choosing to trust him. That’s all trust is, she thought. Trust is just a choice. Someone can’t earn your trust if you don’t choose to let them, to give them the chance to show you. She was going to give Rory that chance, and somehow she knew that he wouldn’t let her down.

Her breathing became heavier as his hands slid down her back and cupped her bottom, lifting her against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her deeper into the apartment. Ace barked at them as Rory did his best to navigate blindly around the dog, but neither one of them was paying much attention to anything outside of their bodies pressed together. It didn’t take them long to reach his bedroom, where his knees hitting the edge of the bed caused him to fall over onto the soft mattress.

He held out his hands to brace himself and keep from putting all his weight on her, but as she peered up at him, she grabbed his shirt in her fists, twisting her hands into the fabric and pulling him down against her. One of his knees dropped between her legs and she arched her hips up to meet him, immediately feeling how much he wanted her.

His silver eyes bored into her, flaming with heat. His hands were flat against the mattress on either side of her head; her hands pressed against his chest. She felt his muscular frame underneath her hands as she ran them down his chest, across his abs, to the bottom hem of his shirt. Grabbing it, she pulled it up over his head with his assistance, revealing his chiseled abs.

He growled as her eyes roamed over his body, and she could tell he was struggling not to pounce on her. She appreciated his restraint; she needed a moment to savor this, to savor him against her, on top of her, with her. Rory was twice her size at least, towering over her. It was intimidating and arousing, and she started second-guessing herself.

“Clare, look at me.” Rory’s voice rumbled in his chest, vibrating against her hands and causing a shiver of excitement to course through her body. As she reluctantly let her eyes meet his, she could tell that he saw the doubt creeping into her mind.

“Yesterday is over. The past is over. You’re with me, right here and now. Tomorrow, next week, next year, you’re with me. You’re mine, Clare. Do you understand?”

Clare felt tears stinging her eyes as she listened to him. A lump formed in her throat, and she began to shake as sobs overtook her. His eyes went from passionate to worried, and she turned her head sideways into the mattress to try to hide her distress.

“What’s wrong, mhuirnín?” His tone was soft now.

“Why, Rory? Why me? I’m not who you think I am. I’m not a good person. I’ve done things that are awful—I’ve looked the other way when my ex did unspeakable things. I was so stupid, and now he’s going to find me.” The words were roughly pulled from her throat.

She suddenly felt cold, and she realized that he had gotten off the bed and stood. Glancing up, she saw his hand outstretched for her. Wiping the few escaped tears away, she took his hand and let him pull her onto her feet.

“I want to show you something,” he told her as they walked hand in hand out of his bedroom and through the living room, toward the kitchen. Ace was now sleeping in a large dog bed in the corner of the living room as they passed, content on his own.