I step back, stunned. Part of me would like to dismiss his words and stew a bit longer. The other part of me, the curious part, wants to know where he’s going. “Do I need to change?”
He offers me a once-over. “No. You’re perfect.”
I step back once more and spin on my heels as my face heats. Why does his praise affect me?
Ronan’s still standing there, and when I catch him regarding me, he frowns. “Who would you like to escort you, Miss O’Donnell?”
Grayson hovers close.
“I’ll be fine, Ronan.”
Ronan considers for a moment, bringing a finger up to play with the gauge in his right earlobe. “Fine. I’ll escort you. Let me get the keys for the wagon.”
I groan and rub my temple, but nod nevertheless. I hate the escorts, the bodyguards—my father did, too. However, I recognize, perhaps more so than he did, the necessity for them.
“We’ll wait in the car. Ready?” Grayson asks.
“I only have my phone. I don’t have anything else.”
“You don’t need it.”
I tilt my head, trying to read his expression. Is he excited about taking me somewhere? Is this based on regret from his words the other night?
Grayson gestures toward his car, and I follow behind him.
The snow falls in thick pillow-like tufts, swallowing the city’s remaining color. Christmas lights flicker in the blur, and red and green ribbons snap in the wind between the flurries. I can’t help the fluttery sensation humming in my stomach along with the faint Christmas music spilling from O’Brien’s.
Grayson opens the passenger-side door for me, and I slide in, only to watch him jog around the front and hop in himself. He cranks the car, the windshield wipers hustling to clear the accumulated blanket of snow already sticking. When we settle into the rough seats of Grayson’s sedan, he turns the heat up. “Feel some sort of way about Ronan tagging along?”
“No. Do you?”
“No.” He grabs for the pack of cigarettes, only to spin them twice between his thumb and forefinger and set them back down. “Figured it was part of the deal.”
I chew the inside of my cheek.
He studies me with rapt attention, leaning forward, like he’s waiting for more. “I’m the only heir to the O’Donnell bloodline. If I die, I don’t have siblings to take over for me. Sure, my father would step back in, but the O’Donnell line would fade away. Inorder for the Irish to survive, thrive, another family name would need to step into leadership, and I can’t do that to my dad’s legacy. So, while it’s uncomfortable and a hassle, I understand it. Respect it.”
Grayson smiles, glancing in the rearview as Ronan pulls the SUV up behind us. He checks the side mirrors and pulls out onto the road.
“Why do you smile?” I ask, sitting on my chilled hands.
“You know that makes you a good leader, right? It’s not that you throw yourself at each piece of danger that makes you untouchable. It’s that you understand you’re not.”
“One could argue that’s fear,” I say, twisting and shifting in my seat at his insight.
“No. It’s not. You don’t gamble with yourself because you know people rely on you. That’s a heavy weight to carry at such a young age. Anyone can be reckless, but you … you step up without needing to prove how brave you are.”
I snort and turn toward him, noting his departure from the downtown streets and onto the road out of Boston.
“What?” he asks. His eyes dart between me and the road.
“That’s the thing, though. Proving myself is all I can think about.” I whisper the words; I don’t want to admit them. I don’t have anyone I can utter those words out loud to, but of all people, Grayson is theoneperson Icantell. He’s not one of us.
The corner of his lips curve slightly. “I know. But not with me, Aoife. You don’t have to prove yourself to me.”
A sting jabs at me behind my eyes, and I sigh. That must be it. Why I’m comfortable with Grayson. He doesn’t favor crime families, particularly those who are given a free pass by law enforcement. With him, I’m not concerned with trying to prove anything. What started as indifference has morphed into comfort, resting in the fact that I don’t need to.
I tug on my lower lip, relaxing into the seat. Snow falls outside the window while the heavy steel of Boston falls behind us. As it drifts down, I relish the comfortable silence loitering between us.
