Glancing over at Ronin while he drives, our conversation in the kitchen half an hour ago plays through my mind. His abrupt behavior when he left the kitchen threw me off balance, and that’s a feeling I can’t stand. It was so un-Ronin-like, the quick flare of temper and the about-face from the room. I’ve never pegged him as the type to run from a confrontation, or to grow angry because of a few words tossed around. But the look that crossed his face after I spoke was less angry and more…shredded. Like the words I’d spoken about being able to take care of myself had actually cut him.

The tension between us in the car is palpable, and I turn away from his chiseled profile to stare out the window. We both live on the same side of town, and my office isn’t far from his condo. The streets of Wilmington roll past in a spinning mix of quaint and coastal, and then Ronin’s truck is pulling in to the small parking lot intended for our firm. Ronin cuts the truck’s engine and steps out of the cab. As he heads to my side, I scramble down from the cab and grab my laptop bag from the floor.

A look of irritation crosses his face as he stands beside me. Reaching over my head, he settles a hand on top of the passenger-side door and leans in close. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you that you should wait until a man opens the door for you?”

His green eyes blaze, and they drop to my lips before focusing again on my own. Clearing my throat, I stare up at him and hitch my bag up on my shoulder. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that times have changed and a woman is never required to wait for a man?”

A muscle in his jaw twitches and he doesn’t reply. We stand there, eyes locked, his body close enough to mine for me to smell his cologne and feel the unbelievable heat rising from him. My legs give a slight tremble at the same time that his pupils dilate in the never-ending sea of green.

When my phone chirps in my purse, I drop my eyes and slide out from under his arm. My voice is stiff. “Thank you. For the ride.”

I don’t turn back because I don’t know what will happen if I do. Just as my foot hits the sidewalk to head up to the front door, Ronin’s voice makes me pause.

“I’ll pick you up here at five. Keep me posted if you hear anything from the police, and I’ll do the same.”

I nod and step onto the sidewalk.

“And, Olive…”

I pause again, but Ronin doesn’t speak. Slowly, I turn. God, he’s a sight, leaning against the side of his truck in his tight black T-shirt, his biceps bulging with his arms folded across his broad chest. The traitorous girl inside me shivers. “Yes?”

“The next time I want to open a door for you? Let me.”

I let out a breath and turn, picking up my pace until I’m stepping inside the design firm. I hurry to my office and drop into my chair. I stare at the open doorway, wishing for the first time that our office wasn’t designed as an open office.

I want an office door that I can shut right now. Badly.

Inhaling, I pull my phone out of my purse and note the e-mail icon flashing red. I click open my in-box and the breath gets stuck halfway to my lungs. My eyes grow larger with every word I read.

My heart drops down to my feet. I’d known it the second I saw the corsage, just like the one he gave me in college, but this confirmation just makes it that much more real.

It was him…M.J. was in my house the other night.

Why did I think that hearing from him once was a fluke?

Just before I’d left for France, I’d received an e-mail similar to this one. I pull it up now with frantic fingers, my eyes scanning the words far more thoroughly than I did the first time, when all I’d wanted to do was shove it into the background.

Reading it a second time sends a series of shivers coursing through me. I’m not even sure how M.J. got my current e-mail address. After everything that happened between us in college, I made sure to cover my tracks as much as possible.

I never wanted to hear from him again.

He was the bad boy, the kind of guy I never would have usually dated and certainly never have again. But at that time in my life, I was more vulnerable than I’d ever been before. I was hurting: deep, dark scars that still haven’t completely healed. And M.J. was there, ready to pick up the pieces and help me get back to the person I used to be.

But after a while, I realized that he was into some things that I couldn’t handle. Drugs. Crime. Really serious crimes that I had no business being anywhere near. When I found out that the money he’d given me to pay for a semester of tuition that my parents couldn’t afford was dirty, I told him we were done.

I thought he got the message then. He left school and I didn’t hear anything else from him. Until now.

Remembering it now, I fold my arms across my chest and shudder. M.J. was unstable back then. I can only imagine what the grown-man version of him is like now. Especially since, based on the e-mail he sent, he’s been plotting our reunion the entire time. I can’t even imagine…my God.

I’m still holding the phone when Berkeley appears in the open doorway.

Without pausing, she breezes into my office and scans my face. Her expression softens.

Tucking a strand of hair over her shoulder, she focuses concerned eyes on my face.

“What’s wrong?” Her question is instant.

Closing my eyes to fend off the onslaught of tears, I shake my head slightly. “I…I don’t think I can work today, Berkeley. I’m going to take a few days off.”

The last thing I want to do is let M.J. ruin what I have going on now. Not for a second. But if he’s searching for me…my office is the first place he’ll look. And after the stress of the past twenty-four hours, I don’t think I can handle coming face to face with him.

I quickly fill her in on what I found when I walked into my house the previous night. Berkeley rubs my shoulder, her sweet compassion bleeding into her expression. “Just tell me how I can help.”

I glance down at the floor, shame filling me up and making me feel sick. “You know the ex I told you about?”

Recognition flares in her eyes. “What about him?”

“He’s been contacting me. He left town years ago…I thought he was gone for good.” I suck in a breath. “But apparently…he’s back.”

Berkeley reaches out to rub small hands up and down my arms. “Oh, Olive.”

“He wants to see me,” I blurt out.

I never told anyone how I’d been so vulnerable to get involved with a guy like M.J. in the first place. And all I’d told Berkeley about him was that he was a part of my past I’d like to stay there. A bad choice from my youth.

But now…

Berkeley’s brows pull together, her bottom lip disappearing between her teeth. “What are you going to do about him?”

Sighing, I retreat to my desk and lean against it. Looking back to my friend, I shrug.

“I honestly don’t know what I can do.”

Berkeley folds her arms across her chest and studies me. “Has he directly threatened you?”

Picking up my phone, I hand it to her. “He’s much too smart for that.”

It was one of the things that had driven me crazy about M.J. If he’d only used his brains for good, he could have been an incredible man. He had a father who loved him and tried so hard to keep him on a straight path. I’d tried, too. But there was nothing either of us could do to change the trajectory that M.J. had been on back then. He was determined to follow in his uncle’s footsteps. And his uncle was one of the worst people I’d ever known.

Gritting my teeth, I take the phone back from her. “He wouldn’t threaten me in an e-mail.”

Berkeley’s voice grows more serious. “Trust me on this, Olive. You should go to the police with this information.”

Berkeley is gearing up for war. I can see it written all over her fierce facial expression. She wants to blaze in with both barrels smoking, and I hold up my hands to top her progression before she goes too far down that path.

“I’ve got this, Berkeley. The police were called when my place was broken into last night. And…Ronin is on it. He’s helping me. I’m actually staying at his place right now.”

The truth is that calling Ronin and pouring out the information about the e-mails M.J. sent feels as natural as breathing. Ronin hasn’t been in my life very long at all, and he’s already my go-to when I’m having a problem. After learning at an early age that I have to be self-reliant first and foremost, depending on someone else to help me shouldn’t be easy at all. I’d depended on M.J. back in college, for the first time in a long time, and look where that had gotten me. Since then I’ve been on my own. But now, Ronin steps into my life like this big, badasss protector and I’m ready to let him shield me from the man I fear most.

Berkeley’s eyebrows fly up toward her hairline. “Wait…what?” Her lips curl into a small smile. “That doesn’t sound like you. Did he drag you to his house kicking and screaming?”

With a roll of my eyes, I twirl my phone in my hands. “Practically. He’s pretty damn bossy.”

Berkeley’s gaze practically twinkles, but worry still saturates her eyes. “Call him. Tell him what’s going on. I’ll leave you alone, but really…I want you to take all the time you need. I’ll help Paisley on the boutique hotel project, and I’m sure Beth will jump in to help you on the downtown Victorian while you’re out.”

Sadness permeates my heart. I love both of the projects, and I don’t want to give them up. I’ll try to keep myself involved as much as I can while I’m out of the office. “Thank you, Berkeley. I’ll try to get this resolved as quickly as possible.”

She closes the distance between us and grabs me up in a tight hug. “Be safe, my friend.”

As soon as she’s left the office, I grab my phone and pull up Ronin’s name in my contacts. The last thing I want to do is bother him at work. I know that his job is important, and that he has an entire life outside my newfound problems. Listening to the ringing while I wait to hear his voice is tedious, but as soon as his concerned voice comes across the line all the air leaves me in a whoosh.

“Red? You okay?”

I swallow, the movement suddenly so difficult. Just the sound of his voice makes me want to break.

And I never break.

Comfort. That’s what Ronin’s voice sparks inside me, and I’m not quite ready to think about why that is.

“No,” I answer with a tremble in my tone. “Can you meet me at my office?”