Page 66 of Bound Lies

There’s silence for a beat until Riley breaks it. “I’m sorry.”

I squeeze her hand. “It is what it is.”

I force a smile even though the sting never seems to lessen when I think of how much of my life I’ve spent standing in Ronan’s shadow. No matter how hard I fought, no matter how much I bled, it was never quite enough for my father to see me as anything other than second best.

That’s where the resentment toward Ronan started and why I’m so damn reckless now. After all, he’s the one with everything to lose.

We keep the conversation more neutral until after the desserts have been cleared away and I’ve settled the bill.

I make sure to get to my feet first and walk around the table to pull out Riley’s chair and offer her my arm to take to try to prove that I’m doing better.

She scoffs. “I’m not that drunk.”

I roll my eyes at how stubborn she’s being. “Just take my arm, Riley.”

“Fine,” she mutters before linking her arm through mine.

The night is warm, and my sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, which means Riley’s hand rests on my bare forearm.

The touch sends a shiver straight down my spine to my cock, and I subtly reach down to adjust myself as we walk back toward the main strip.

“You know, I’m actually having fun,” Riley admits.

I can’t help but smirk. “You weren’t expecting to enjoy yourself?”

“Were you?”

“Fair point.” I laugh.

We fall into an easy silence as we walk back toward the hotel.

She mentioned to me over dinner that she’s never been to Vegas, so we take our time walking back so she can see the sights.

I’ve been to Vegas countless times, so I choose to watch Riley instead, finding her expressions much more entertaining than anything else around me.

She clings to my arm, her small body pressed up against my side as we walk. Having her so close is torture, but I also don’t want her to stop.

Every so often, there’s a slight breeze, and I catch a whiff of her perfume in the air and bite back a groan as I fight the urge to put her over my shoulder and march her back to our hotel room.

I wonder if she feels it too, the tension that’s been simmering between us ever since we kissed. Part of me hopes she doesn’t because I’m running out of reasons not to kiss her.

I guess there’s only one way to find out.

“I know things have been strained since that kiss,” I say to break the silence. “Maybe we should talk about it?”

Riley doesn’t say anything right away, and I glance down to see her chewing on her bottom lip.

“Probably,” she mumbles.

“I’ll go first.”

She looks up at me, eyes wide open.

“I felt rejected by the way you ended the kiss. I was sure there was some kind of connection there, and I thought that you felt it too.”

Her eyes drop to the ground as her shoulders slump, but she says nothing as we continue to walk.

“Was I wrong?” I press.