Katie
“You’re serious?”
I tried not to show how happy Connor’s words made me feel. I tried to keep a neutral face, but fuck, it was hard. Connor had stopped trying to be so macho and to treat me like a little princess. Granted, recent events had helped that, but it was about damn time.
“I am,” he said. “Very much so.”
I let myself smile. But it wasn’t a smile of joy. It was a smile of knowing exactly how I’d get back at him.
“Tell you what,” I said. “I’m going to go home and curl up under my covers after the way tonight has gone. But be up by ten tomorrow. I’m going to text you where to meet me.”
I went up, kissed him on the cheek, and walked away.
“Can I get a hint?” he asked.
I looked over my shoulder and smirked.
“You once said we’d only do it so we could then fuck,” I said. “Maybe if you play your cards right, we can both get what we want.”
Recognition did not immediately cross over Connor’s face. But that was fine.
As soon as he saw where we were meeting, he’d remember.
* * *
I sat at a booth inside the store where we’d meet. I had a warm drink in my hand, a nice white tank top, and some tight jeans. I had gotten here a little earlier just to make sure that we had a spot to sit when Connor arrived.
I could hear the sound of his motorcycle coming. It was a sound that excited me, like it got my own engine revving. And when Connor appeared in the doorway and saw me, it got more than “my engine” going.
He chuckled as he came up and sat across from me in the booth.
“Coffee.”
“Do you remember now?”
“Vaguely.”
“OK, well, I remember it clearly. I asked if you wanted coffee. You repeated the word, as if I’d just suggested we go do SEAL training. And then you said, ‘Coffee, for what? So we can fuck after?’”
Connor folded his hands on the table, sighing.
“You did say yesterday if I played my cards right, that could happen, so maybe I was right.”
“You know full well what I meant, Connor. ‘Playing your cards right’ meant that we’d have a real date with real feelings out here. That’s not something you can fake your way through, and it’s not something you’re going to easily get out of.”
Connor leaned back in the chair, unfolded his hands, and did something I almost never saw him do.
He smiled.
And not like a smile of “I’m going to fuck shit up” or a smile of “oh, fuck, give it to me.” It was a genuine but low-key smile, the kind of smile someone might have when they were happy just for happiness’ sake.
“I know that in the past, Connor, you’ve been treated like shit, and for that reason, you’re afraid to commit. Hell, you’re afraid to go on dates.”
Connor snorted.
“Afraid is a bit of a strong word.”
“But it’s accurate, no?”
