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“Don’t act so surprised. I guessed about it last night, solely based on your reaction. Then this whole conversation kind of confirmed it for me.” Even more panic claws its way up my throat. “Don’t worry, though. I genuinely don’t think Josie or the guys know.”

“And they can’t know, Kat.” There is no denying the truth now. Instead, I need to focus on making sure my secret is kept a secret. “It was almost ten years ago. I never told them, and I know he didn’t either. It was one of the biggest mistakes of my life.”

Worry passes over her gaze. “Mia, what does that mean?”

“Nothing like that,” I quickly assure her. “It was consensual, fully consensual. It wasn’t something I expected to happen, but it led to me thinking he’d be different and all that got me was heartbreak.”

I still dream about that night in Omaha—the way he walked me back to the hotel with an arm around my shoulder. How he kept pulling me in closer, the warmth of his breath against the top of my head. At nearly five-ten, I was used to being as tall as or taller than all my dates. The way he pressed a kiss to my head and how we agreed to watch a movie…something I never thought Ronan would be into.

It had been me that initiated everything that followed that night. Less than an hour into a movie I’d already seen, I’d gently taken the tablet from his hand and demanded to know why he wasn’t trying to sleep with me. I wanted to know why he wasn’t living up to thereputation I knew was true. His green eyes flashed with hurt before he admitted he thought I deserved better than him.

I’d swung a leg over his lap and was straddling him in seconds, wanting to know what his response was if I said all I wanted was him. The kiss he pulled me into still haunts me. No one has been able to kiss me like Ronan.

Katrina is staring at me expectantly, waiting to hear the rest of the story. “Look, I pushed him to give into his reputation because I wanted him. He wanted me, too, at least in that moment. Everything that came after, though, just proved to me I would never be good enough long-term.”

“And that’s why you don’t want to see him? Because you don’t want to relive that past?”

“I don’t want to see him because Ronan O’Brien runs away. When things get hard, he bolts. The second something he doesn’t like happens, he leaves. His way of handling things is not handling them. He might be a good person most of the time, Katrina, but reputations are created for a reason. Don’t let him make you think otherwise.”

I don’t know if Katrina is willing to take my response at face value, but she nods and opens up a notebook, instantly bringing the conversation back to a safe area: work. Work, for us, means I don’t have to think of Ronan or the way he humiliated me. Or the reality I’ve chosen to wear as a burden to protect the people around me. I saw the real him that day in Indianapolis, but it wasn’t my place to share that with everyone else.

As I lower myself into the only open kitchen chair, I groan in frustration. All the others are littered with random things that need to be put away, but I’ll get to them, eventually. Right now, my focus shifts to making the pain in my leg subside; once I accomplish that, I can get back to unpacking my new place.

After living with this ache for over eight years, I should’ve known better than to overdo it. Every single time I move to a new place, this always happens. I somehow get in my head that I can accomplish anything and that chronic pain isn’t something I have to worry about. Only to be proven wrong before the end of the day.

I should have grabbed an icepack from the freezer before I sat down, but it’s too far away now. Instead, I gently massage the upper part of my calf, hoping some of the tension will melt away. I never would have guessed that, at thirty-four, parts of my body would already be betraying me. I’ve always taken care of myself, worked hard to stay in shape and eat healthy, but there are some things we can’t control.

Like the consequences that come from a decision that wasn’t your own.

My phone rings on the table by my elbow, Bryce Clark’s name flashing across the screen. I grab it, fumbling for just a second before I accept the call. “Hey, man.”

“Hey, how’s it going?” Instead of a normal greeting, Bryce tends to get to the point. Which makes things easier if you’re working for him. Which I am, or will be, in two weeks. “Are you sure you don’t want some help getting moved in?”

I look around at the chaotic space and let out a small groan. More than anything, I want to be able to handle this on my own, but I know I can’t. “Actually, I think I could use some help.”

“That’s great news,” he happily replies, “because Carter and I are already here!”

Nothing about the statement surprises me, but I still laugh. Bryce has always been the kind of guy who anticipates what you need and gives it to you long before you ever ask. When it came to his own well-being and mental health, he was more resistant, but he’ll never let a friend suffer in silence.

“And we brought pizza!” I let out another laugh at Carter’s excited voice in the background.

“Just let yourselves in. It’s unlocked,” I tell them. “I just sat down and am not getting up for at least five minutes. I’m in the kitchen.”

I toss my phone back onto the table once Bryce hangs up. A second later, I can hear them pushing their way into the house, declarations about how awesome the place is meeting my ears. I find myself looking around, trying to see it from their perspective. It’s all sleek lines and modern edges that almost make it feel sterile. It was in my budget, though, and was the only house in the endless lineup of wealthy-bachelor-pad houses my realtor showed me that I actually kind of liked.

The house had potential, which is what drew me in. It’s in a great neighborhood, had a huge yard, and was close enough to the poolto make commuting easy. If someone wanted to make it a home, it could easily be done with some remodeling, but that’s not what I’m here to do. Settling down is so far outside my nature, I’m not sure I’ll ever do it. I stay in a place long enough to accomplish what I needed to do, then I move on.

“This place is insane,” Bryce compliments with a low whistle as soon as he steps into view. “Out of all the places you’ve lived, this might be my favorite.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice,” I agree with a nod. “There’s a huge backyard for Lezak to run around in.”

“I bet he lost his shit when he saw it.” I turn in time to see Bryce’s gaze drift from where I’m working the sore muscle in my leg to my face, eyebrow raised. “You good, dude?”

I shrug, trying to hide any grimace of pain that might leak through. “Just overdid it a bit. It’ll be fine in a minute.”

Carter comes wandering in behind him, dropping the pizza boxes to the only free space on the table. “Then I suggest we eat first.”

“You won’t hear me argue.”