“But you love her.”
Connor exhales slowly. Once again, he looks over his shoulder, but I’m not sure if he’s looking at the redhead or just buying time to answer. He takes a long drink of his beer. “That’s true. But not all love is created equal. I keep hoping she’ll love me desperately, but she doesn’t.”
“What about you? Do you love her desperately?”
“Touché.” He attempts a smile, but it’s forced. The room spins. “I guess there’s only one girl I’ve ever really felt that way about.”
Oh, shit. “Connor . . .”
“I spent a lot of years pretending that I don’t want you, Liz.” Brady’s still at the other end of the bar, but he says the words quietly so only I can hear. He cocks his head at me and his mop of hair flops over one eye. “I can’t be with Della. It’s not fair to her.”
“Why not?”
“Because the first thing I think every time she breaks up with me is, maybe I can be with Liz now.”
The room spins a little, like it does in the movies when the boy says something to the girl and it’s so sweet and it’s so special that the camera has to do a little semicircle.
“I know you’ve only ever wanted friendship from me,” he says. “But I swear I’d treat you like a queen.”
“Connor . . .”
He scoots forward on his stool and dips his head as if he’s going to kiss me right here and now.
I stop him with a finger to his lips.
The redhead scoots out of her booth and smirks at us as she walks to the door.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” Connor says. “Come home with me?”
Chapter 20
Sam
One hotel room. One giant bed. Two people who have no interest in sleeping together.
“I can sleep on the couch,” Sabrina says.
I shake my head. “Take the bed. I don’t mind.”
“You could join me.” She holds up a hand as if signaling me to stop my train of thought. “Not like that. I mean there’s enough room for both of us.”
“I don’t mind the couch.”
She smiles. “You’re a true gentleman. Mind if I take a soak?” She points over her shoulder toward the marble-tiled bathroom. It’s beautiful and reminds me of the hotel in Chicago where I took Liz last December. The bathtub where she slid down my cock without anything between us, her arms wrapped around my neck.
“Take your time.”
I’m exhausted. My jaw hurts from smiling all day, from pretending to be madly in love while dropping a small fortune on that ridiculous ring. But mostly, I’m sick of pretending. And this is just the beginning. I’m starting to question my decision to go all in on this charade, but I really do feel for Sabrina. She’s the victim in this.
As soon as the bathroom door clicks closed behind her, I pour myself a drink from the mini-bar and sink into the couch with my phone.
The phone rings once before Liz picks up. “Hello?” Her voice is a little sleep roughened.
“Did I wake you?”
She yawns. “I fell asleep on the couch. I haven’t been getting much sleep lately. Trying to catch up.”
“I guess it’s good I’m not home tonight then,” I say. “Because I’m so selfish, I’d keep you up all night. Again. How was your day?”
“Well, I got sent home from work. Governor Guy realized that your relationship with her daughter must be hard on me and told me to take the day off.”
“Shit. I didn’t think about that. You didn’t let on that you knew anything, did you?”
“Of course not. What was I going to do? Look her in the eye and tell her I know she and I have a penchant for the same kind of sex? I’ll pass on that awkward conversation, thanks. I don’t think I want to bond with her over our shared bedroom partners or techniques.”
I chuckle. “You think your techniques are like hers, huh?”
“I try not to think about it, but hey, I did see the video.”
“First of all, I’d like to think my techniques have improved since then, but . . .” My gaze drifts to the bathroom door. It’s still closed, and there’s no way Sabrina can hear me over the loud hum of the jetted tub. “It’s not the same with you, Rowdy.”
“How so? Are you trying to tell me I’m good in bed?”
“Good doesn’t begin to cover it.” I close my eyes and picture her tied to my bed, her arms extended above her head, breasts rising and falling with her breath, lips parted as if her body is too full of pleasure and she needs to give it a place to escape. “Have you ever had sex with someone you didn’t love?”
She’s quiet for a minute. “You know the answer to that.”
“Ah, Connor. Fucker. He should never have slept with you.”
“One might say the same thing about Christine Guy and you,” she says softly.
“I’m sure Sabrina would agree.”
She sighs. “No doubt. I tend to forget how shitty this situation must be for her.”
“Thank you for understanding.” I take a long drink of my scotch. Liz and I are in limbo. My situation has given us an excuse to be together in that it prevents us from really being together. There are no tough decisions about whether or not I can have her in my life after what happened with my dad, because she can’t be in any real way. At least not yet. Maybe I needed that excuse at first, but I don’t now. We might have to fight for this, but she’s worth it. “Liz?”
Connor exhales slowly. Once again, he looks over his shoulder, but I’m not sure if he’s looking at the redhead or just buying time to answer. He takes a long drink of his beer. “That’s true. But not all love is created equal. I keep hoping she’ll love me desperately, but she doesn’t.”
“What about you? Do you love her desperately?”
“Touché.” He attempts a smile, but it’s forced. The room spins. “I guess there’s only one girl I’ve ever really felt that way about.”
Oh, shit. “Connor . . .”
“I spent a lot of years pretending that I don’t want you, Liz.” Brady’s still at the other end of the bar, but he says the words quietly so only I can hear. He cocks his head at me and his mop of hair flops over one eye. “I can’t be with Della. It’s not fair to her.”
“Why not?”
“Because the first thing I think every time she breaks up with me is, maybe I can be with Liz now.”
The room spins a little, like it does in the movies when the boy says something to the girl and it’s so sweet and it’s so special that the camera has to do a little semicircle.
“I know you’ve only ever wanted friendship from me,” he says. “But I swear I’d treat you like a queen.”
“Connor . . .”
He scoots forward on his stool and dips his head as if he’s going to kiss me right here and now.
I stop him with a finger to his lips.
The redhead scoots out of her booth and smirks at us as she walks to the door.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” Connor says. “Come home with me?”
Chapter 20
Sam
One hotel room. One giant bed. Two people who have no interest in sleeping together.
“I can sleep on the couch,” Sabrina says.
I shake my head. “Take the bed. I don’t mind.”
“You could join me.” She holds up a hand as if signaling me to stop my train of thought. “Not like that. I mean there’s enough room for both of us.”
“I don’t mind the couch.”
She smiles. “You’re a true gentleman. Mind if I take a soak?” She points over her shoulder toward the marble-tiled bathroom. It’s beautiful and reminds me of the hotel in Chicago where I took Liz last December. The bathtub where she slid down my cock without anything between us, her arms wrapped around my neck.
“Take your time.”
I’m exhausted. My jaw hurts from smiling all day, from pretending to be madly in love while dropping a small fortune on that ridiculous ring. But mostly, I’m sick of pretending. And this is just the beginning. I’m starting to question my decision to go all in on this charade, but I really do feel for Sabrina. She’s the victim in this.
As soon as the bathroom door clicks closed behind her, I pour myself a drink from the mini-bar and sink into the couch with my phone.
The phone rings once before Liz picks up. “Hello?” Her voice is a little sleep roughened.
“Did I wake you?”
She yawns. “I fell asleep on the couch. I haven’t been getting much sleep lately. Trying to catch up.”
“I guess it’s good I’m not home tonight then,” I say. “Because I’m so selfish, I’d keep you up all night. Again. How was your day?”
“Well, I got sent home from work. Governor Guy realized that your relationship with her daughter must be hard on me and told me to take the day off.”
“Shit. I didn’t think about that. You didn’t let on that you knew anything, did you?”
“Of course not. What was I going to do? Look her in the eye and tell her I know she and I have a penchant for the same kind of sex? I’ll pass on that awkward conversation, thanks. I don’t think I want to bond with her over our shared bedroom partners or techniques.”
I chuckle. “You think your techniques are like hers, huh?”
“I try not to think about it, but hey, I did see the video.”
“First of all, I’d like to think my techniques have improved since then, but . . .” My gaze drifts to the bathroom door. It’s still closed, and there’s no way Sabrina can hear me over the loud hum of the jetted tub. “It’s not the same with you, Rowdy.”
“How so? Are you trying to tell me I’m good in bed?”
“Good doesn’t begin to cover it.” I close my eyes and picture her tied to my bed, her arms extended above her head, breasts rising and falling with her breath, lips parted as if her body is too full of pleasure and she needs to give it a place to escape. “Have you ever had sex with someone you didn’t love?”
She’s quiet for a minute. “You know the answer to that.”
“Ah, Connor. Fucker. He should never have slept with you.”
“One might say the same thing about Christine Guy and you,” she says softly.
“I’m sure Sabrina would agree.”
She sighs. “No doubt. I tend to forget how shitty this situation must be for her.”
“Thank you for understanding.” I take a long drink of my scotch. Liz and I are in limbo. My situation has given us an excuse to be together in that it prevents us from really being together. There are no tough decisions about whether or not I can have her in my life after what happened with my dad, because she can’t be in any real way. At least not yet. Maybe I needed that excuse at first, but I don’t now. We might have to fight for this, but she’s worth it. “Liz?”
