Ronan was shocked by how much Sam had gotten Elias to admit at dinner. In the six years he’d known about Elias’s sexuality, he had never been able to fully understand his friend’s reluctance to come out, but now it was starting to make sense.
Elias had been a mess on the short drive to the hotel. He could barely sit still, twisting every minute or so, picking at his fingernails or twisting the seatbelt in his hands. Ronan could literally see the anxiety radiating off him in waves of orange and green.
With a pang of sympathy, Ronan did something he rarely allowed himself to do. He focused inward, searching his own core of emotions, and pulled loose threads of calm, mentally weaving them into a net that he gently cast over his friend.
Elias immediately calmed, settling into the seat as he
