* * *
I drove home in a blur, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts I couldn’t make sense of. The familiar streets blurred by, but I wasn’t really paying attention to them. My thoughts were tangled up in everything that had just happened. Connor fucking Easton asked me out. Of all people. The man who couldn’t look me in the eye most of the time, and when he did, he always seemed to be holding something back.
I pulled into my parking spot and sat there for a few seconds, hands still gripping the wheel. What the hell just happened? He’d barely spoken to me in weeks, acting like I was invisible half the time, and then today of all days he asked me out? And what was I supposed to make of that? Pity?
I let out a frustrated sigh, pushing open the door of my car. The evening air hit me like a slap to the face, and I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. This wasn’t some movie where things magically fell into place. This was Connor Easton, the man who was both maddening and intoxicating in equal measure. One minute, he wants to take care of me, like some kind of protective hero, making sure I’m okay, and then the next minute, he acts like I’m a damn inconvenience.
I walked up the stairs to my little condo and unlocked the door. The place was small, nothing special, but it was mine. I’d worked damn hard for it. Every inch of this space had been paid for by myself, and that gave me a sense of pride I couldn’t explain. It was mine, and that’s what mattered.
I dropped my keys onto the end table by the door, and the weight of the day finally seemed to hit me all at once. My mind was a mess, and I was exhausted. But no matter how tired I felt, I couldn’t stop replaying the day in my head. Him leaning in, his hand stopping my car door from closing, the way his voice had been low and intense when he asked me to dinner. Almost like he wasn’t asking me but telling me.
Sighing to myself, I kicked off my shoes and walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge absentmindedly but not really sure what I was looking for. I grabbed a bottle of water, unscrewed the cap, and took a long sip. What the hell am I going to wear? What do you wear to a pity date with one of the hottest guys you’d ever met? Because that’s what this felt like. A pity date. He’d probably felt bad for me, or something.
I sucked in a breath, shaking my head. There was no way it could be anything else. He was complicated. Too complicated. The last thing I needed right now was to get wrapped up in something I couldn’t figure out. And yet, my heart seemed to have other ideas. It was beating faster at the thought of him. At the thought of getting him into my bed.
Running a hand through my hair, I didn’t even have time for this. I had a million other things to focus on. The project, my career, keeping everything together… So why the hell was I allowing Connor Easton to get under my skin? Was I really so desperate for attention that I was willing to put myself through this? Well, yes. Yes, I was, because the next thing I was doing was grabbing my phone from my back pocket.
Two
Connor
Well, fuck. As soon as she got out of her car weeks ago with her clipboard, I knew who she was. Emma Flynn. It has been my mission to learn everything about the girl who was being harassed at the bar. It was unhealthy and almost stalkerish. But I wasn’t able to get her out of my head. Kicking myself for even thinking about her when that isn’t like me and never would be. I wasn’t the settle-down type, and honestly I never wanted to be. But someone like her? You can’t just fuck her and walk away. She’s someone you take home for family dinner. Emma Flynn was too sweet for a guy like me. I’d ruin her.
That night in the bar, she seemed so shy, so timid. I was wrong. Little Fighter has a lot to say. Watching the way she talks to the guys on my crew and the way she commands that everyone has her attention was enough to tell me she wasn’t a timid person. Every time she takes a phone call, she’s all business, and fuck if I don’t enjoy watching her like that. It wasn’t often people called me out for the way I worded things or held a conversation. It’s not like I’m trying to be rude. I justfound that it’s easier to live a quiet life than a loud one. Because all the years when I tried to be loud, it backfired, and all I ended up with was a broken heart and no idea of what to do with myself.
But Emma tested me. She called me out, and I asked her on a fucking date. I can’t remember the last time I asked someone on a date who I wasn’t trying to fuck at the end of the night. Would fucking Emma make my night? Hell yeah, it would. Though that isn’t why I asked her. I asked her because at least I would know she’d eat dinner tonight if I was there watching, and then maybe I’d feel better for not noticing something was wrong sooner. I wouldn’t feel the blame and the guilt, something I was familiar with.
Closing the door to my temporary house, I put down my stuff and pulled out my phone as I walked to the kitchen for a water bottle. Shifting through the few numbers I had in my phone, I called my older brother Tyler. After a couple of rings, he answered.
“Hey, you good?” he asked.
“Can’t I call my brother without him asking if I’m good?”
“You’re not so chatty.”
“Fair, maybe I should have called Ava.”
“Now what would you need with my girl?”
“I’m in trouble.” I admitted.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, are you in jail again?”
“No, but it might be related to that situation.”
“Alright, what’s going on?” His voice was laced with concern. Tyler was always the brother to go to for advice. He was calm and patient, and being the oldest, he had the most experience. I don’t express my appreciation for him often, especially after him going through cancer, but even my asshole ways can admit he’s a damn good brother. It’s not that I don’t like my brothers. I like to hang out with them. I just find basic conversations hide true feelings.It was safer to listen and to watch. See if the words coming out of their mouths were true and if maybe I was missing something.
“I asked her out today.” I said after a moment of silence.
“Her?”
“The woman from the bar.”
“Okay, so I missed something. When the hell did you see her again?”
“I’ve been working with her for a couple of weeks or so.”
“What?”
