Perfectly Scripted (30 page)

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Authors: Christy Pastore

Tags: #The Scripted Series Book 2

BOOK: Perfectly Scripted
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I reached for my phone to send a message to Dean.

My quest for revenge and justice for Holliday needed to end. It wasn’t my fight, and I couldn’t risk her relapsing. She had asked me for support, and I intended to give it to her.

I couldn’t say that, if one day I accidentally ran into Saunders, I wouldn’t find an excuse to bust his fucking jaw. A night in a cold jail cell would be worth it.

A text message from Dean appeared.

DEAN:
The last of information on Mr. Saunders has been emailed to you.

ME: Good. I’m putting this issue to rest. I’m done.

“Hey.”

At the sound of Holliday’s raspy sleepy voice, I turned to her. She was in the living room, knotting her fingers together—something she did when she was anxious. The faint, white light passed over her thighs, up her stomach, and across her face as she stepped closer. Her dark hair, mussed from sleep. Anguish pulled at my heart. I went to her, and studied her face, her reddened eyes, and her swollen bottom lip—signs she’d fallen asleep crying.

Jesus Christ.
I’d caused her this heartache and pain.

“I’m sorry, Holliday.” I pressed my lips to her forehead. “Can you forgive me?”

“That depends.”

As I searched her light eyes, my hands slid to the sides of her face. “On what?”

“On whether or not you can accept the fact that Derek will never be punished for my rape.” She gripped my T-shirt. “I need you to come to terms with that,
please
.”

The weight of her words punched me in the gut. They were reminders that I’d disappointed her. I would have done anything for her, and I had promised to keep her safe and always make her feel loved.

“I will do anything for you,” I promised. “I don’t know why I acted like such an asshole before.”

Liar. You know why. Tell her.

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” Her smiled widened. “I love you.”

Looking at her beautiful face caused guilt to run through my heart. “I love you,” I replied, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “Does that mean I’m out of the doghouse?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “I might need a little more groveling from you.”

I picked her up and spun her around, which made her laugh a set of high-pitched giggles. Her laugh rocked my world, and her smile brightened it. We tumbled to the couch in a tangle of limbs.

“What would you like to do today?”

“Honestly,” she sighed, “I think I just want to go home.”

My heart fell in my chest, shattering into heavy pieces. I’d planned this romantic retreat for the two of us and it had gone wrong at nearly every damn turn.

“I’m sorry this weekend was not what we’d hoped,” I said before kissing the back of her hand.

“It wasn’t all bad.”

“No?”

“You did tell me I should marry you.” She touched my face, her fingertips gliding over my lips.

I swallowed hard. I wanted to say something, but my throat was too tight. The idea of marrying her has crossed my mind at least a dozen times. Okay, probably more like a thousand.

She shifted, rising to straddle me. “Relax, handsome. I’m very flattered by your words. But I’m not going to hold you to them.”

“Oh, you’re not?” My hands slid over her bare arms. Her skin was soft and warm.

“Not entirely,” she whispered, feathering kisses across my cheek to my lips.

“You’re everything to me.”


Ronan
,” she breathed like a prayer. “Let’s never fight again.”

“But, if we don’t fight, we never get to make up.”

“You have a good point,” she replied in that husky voice that drove me wild.

I sat up and dug my feet into the carpet, pulling her farther up my body. My arms banded around her waist, holding her tight. She lowered her mouth, kissing me hard, stroking her tongue with mine.

My hands glided up her throat and up the back of her neck before sliding into her hair. “Tell me what you need, beauty.”

“You,” she murmured. “More of you. Give me everything.”

“Take me,” I whispered in her ear. “I’m yours. Don’t ever forget.”

“Oh, I
never
forget that you’re mine.”

 

Holliday

After we’d left The York, we decided to have lunch at O’Brien’s Irish Pub. Ronan still hadn’t purchased the place, but he was mulling the idea over. A shared shepherd’s pie and a car ride later, we arrived home around two in the afternoon.

I sat at my makeup vanity applying a generous amount of lotion to my arms and my legs. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a shirtless Ronan entering the bedroom. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, and his hair, still damp from his shower, fell in loose curls around his temples. My mouth curved slightly, and my teeth grazed over my bottom lip. He looked completely edible.

I watched him obsessively as he pulled a T-shirt over his head. All the muscles in his back contracted—masculine perfection. I stared. I couldn’t help myself.

“I can feel you staring at me.” His rich Irish accent purred, sending goose bumps across my skin.

Fuck me.
I didn’t know if it was because we’d been around each other for so many months and I was just used to his Irish brogue, but it was like I was hearing it for the first time all over again.

“I’m just appreciating the physical
assets
of my hot-as-hell boyfriend.”

He smirked while playfully flexing his muscles. Then he dropped to the floor and started doing push-ups, alternating those with crunches. I must have fueled his ego. As I was about to turn on the hair dryer, my phone alerted me to a text message from my sister.

CHARLOTTE: I know you are probably still enjoying your romantic weekend, but I need to know if you are going home for Perry’s birthday bash.

Shit. Was that coming up?

I swiped the screen to open my text messages only to realize I had a message from Tinley as well. Actually, I had a couple from her. She wanted to know how I was feeling and if we would like to have dinner with her next week.

Ronan and I don’t socialize all that much with other people. In fact, I’d never met any of his friends.
Does he have any friends?
I giggled. Of course he had friends.

Doesn’t he?

For the first time in a long time, I’d become the girl wrapped up in her relationship.

Wow, I didn’t see this coming.

After I finished drying my hair, I replied to Charlotte.

ME:
I haven’t decided yet. I will get back to you.

In our ginormous closet, I slipped on a pair of shorts and my favorite New York Giants T-shirt. I loved football, and it didn’t hurt that Lucan and Charlotte had a suite at the stadium. The season has been over for a while.
Did I even watch the Super Bowl this year?

This was ridiculous. I needed to meet some of Ronan’s friends. He’d mention someone named Matthew and a Liam. Or was it Leo? Maybe a dinner party would be in order, or perhaps something less formal.

“Ronan!” I yelled as I sprinted from the closet to the bedroom. “Where are you?”

“I’m over here in the den,” he called out.

I found him stretched out on the couch, watching the news, and looking uber sexy. I nestled between his legs and grabbed the remote, muting the television. He’d have no choice but to give me his undivided attention.

“Can I help you?” he asked, pretending to be annoyed.

“Do you have any friends?”

He laughed, crossing his arms behind his head. “Of course I have friends. Why? Are you trying to set one of
your
friends up on a date or something?”

“No. Why would you think that?”

A smile teased the corners of his lips. “Because you’re a girl. Isn’t that what you do?”

“Not always.” I shoved at his shoulder, and he caught me by the wrists. “I really want to meet some of your friends. Tell me about them.”

“Are
you
looking for backups?”

I laughed. “Would you be serious for a moment?”

“Very well. Yes, I can be serious.” He pulled me closer.

I hooked my legs over his, resting my head on his chest. “You mentioned a Liam…Leo? Tell me about him.”

“Liam Frost. I went to boarding school with his brother, Christian. Liam and his wife, Ashleigh, live here, in the city. I’m not sure what she is doing these days, but I do know that she’s pregnant with their first child. He is the VP of publishing for Panion Publishing Group.”

“Panion owns
One Park Ave Magazine
.”

He nodded. “In addition to a few other publications.”

“Anyone else? You surely have more than one,” I teased.

“Matthew Barber. He’s a mate of mine.”

“As in the actor?” My voice rose a few octaves, and I pushed up to face him. “Matthew Barber, the hottie featured in those new Calvin Klein fragrance ads?”

He grinned. “By your reaction, I’ve decided that Matthew and I are no longer friends.”

“I only have eyes for you,” I said reassuringly.

“Beauty, what is the point of all of this? I feel you have an agenda.”

“Well, it has occurred to me that we may be in serious violation of shutting the world out of our relationship.”

“Yes. That is the point,” he said, rubbing his palm up and down the back of my neck. “
No
paparazzi invasion.”

“Specifically, I meant our friends. We don’t have to go crazy or do the club scene,” I countered. “I realize that we were keeping a low profile for many reasons, but I think we can have a normal relationship without cutting ourselves off from our friends, date nights, and family events.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Once in a while, we give the people a tiny taste of our relationship,” I told him. “Like we did in Cabo. We controlled the story. But who knows? People might not even give a shit about us.”

“You realize we won’t actually be able to control the paparazzi all the time? But I do understand what you’re saying. We control the narrative.”

“Exactly. What about that hot Hollywood couple’s interview Darcy suggested? We could do that.”

Smiling, he said, “I think the deadline for that may have passed.”

“Bummer.” I leaned up for a kiss and then dropped my chin to his chest. “Oh! Before I forget, the second weekend in May, my mom is having a surprise party for Perry. Do you have to work?”

His laugh vibrated deeply and my head bopped against his chest. “I forgot to mention my little sister, Ella, might be coming to visit in a few weeks. I’ll need to get back to you about the party for Perry. Is that okay?”

“Sure thing. It seems we don’t need to worry about filling our social calendars because it looks like we are on well on our way.”

“I’d prefer not to share you with anyone,” he sighed.

“Maybe we should have a party when your sister comes to visit.” I rolled up to face him.

“If there is one thing I know about my little sister, it’s that she most certainly loves a good party.”

“Fabulous,” I replied, jumping to my feet. “I’ll start prepping ideas tomorrow after work. We can make a short guest list and adjust accordingly when we know that she’s definitely coming.”

Ronan grabbed me by the waist as I sauntered past him, pulling me into his lap. “You become extremely excited planning events. There’s this sort of dazzle in your eyes.”

I laughed. “I guess it’s a rush, the mass chaos of prepping, planning, and executing.”

He gave me a wicked smile. “How about planning a party for me?”

“What kind of party?”

“A party for two—something
private
,” he said before yanking my mouth down to meet his for a breath-stealing kiss. “Deeply intimate,” he whispered, brushing his hand up my rib cage to caress my breast.

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