There we go, the territorial glare begins to brew on Connor’s face. “As in…”
I cross my arms over my chest and stand tall. “As in did I sleep with him? Believe it or not but you may have been my first but not my last. It was like one month of dating, and he’s now with someone he met in college.”
“He doesn’t seem like your type. He looks like an ass. Then again, you had a phase. I remember when you dated O’Keefe who didn’t even bother getting you roses.”
My eyes turn surprised. “That was when I was like seventeen, and he brought me flowers for my dance recital. How the hell do you remember that?”
Connor rubs his shoulder. “I don’t know.”
Rolling my eyes, I get us moving again because maybe I’m reading too much into it. “I don’t really care about your opinions on my dating history, since I know I’ve kissed a lot of frogs, including you.” I flash him a pointed look that he appreciates because he enjoys when I offer him snipes on a continuous basis.
It’s a silent block that we walk, but I don’t mind. It’s kind of peaceful. I hate to say that we are more comfortable with one another as the hours since our time in Vegas pass. Then again, comfort isn’t our issue, because even when arguing we’re comfortable.
After I enter the security code, he holds the door to the studio open for me. “I can stop by the grocery store on my way home from the rink. What do you want for dinner?”
I’m melting into a pile of goo. Who is this guy? Oh yeah, the man who thinks being a good husband is the way to break me. Except, he looks far too convincing right now, and I’ve actually lost what’s happening. I need to take a breather, create some space.
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll grab a salad from the store. Weekdays are pretty busy for me. Four to nine pm are primal dance class times, so don’t expect me back until later,” I explain, even though it’s kind of a lie, as I’m on my summer schedule.
A wave of disappointment glazes in his eyes. “That makes sense. I’ll leave you something in the fridge.”
I nod once. He leans in, and I pray to myself he doesn’t do what I think he’s going to do.
Don’t. Please don’t. No. Yes. I mean, really don’t.
He places a small kiss on my cheek as a parting.
It’s the type of affection that is concerning to a woman like me. Because it’s effective and sends a whisper inside me, awakening a small beacon of hope that maybe we could be everything.
10
CONNOR
Gently pulling the back of my brother’s shirt as he leaves the ice, a proud smile takes over my face. “You’re getting good, kid.”
Wyatt glances over his shoulder with excitement in his eyes. “Oh yeah?” He’s only ten, so I’m not going to tell him he could work on his swiping of the stick from the left during a pass.
“Might even be half as good as me one day,” I tease him as we flop onto the bench and begin to untie the laces of our skates.
“Ha. Wishful thinking. You don’t want me to steal your light.” Wyatt pulls a skate off.
This guy is 100% me when I was his age. Now that it’s the off-season, it will be good to hit the ice with him a little more. It’s not like I can take him to a bar with me.
“You are completely in the doghouse, by the way. Mom and Dad can’t stop talking about you and Hadley.”
“Oh yeah?” A sheepish smirk hits me before I take a sip from my water bottle. I figured as much. I would question it if they didn’t get thrown off their axis a bit.
He nods. “I even escaped my chores because they didn’t notice. In fact, Mom even fed Puck and crossed it off my chore chart, not even realizing she did it for me. Same with putting my laundry away.”
“You should be thanking me then.”
Wyatt scoffs a sound at me. “Dude, you married my babysitter.”
I muss his hair. “Hadleywasyour babysitter when you were younger. Now she watches Alex occasionally with you reading a book in your room since you feel you’re too mature for a babysitter.”
“Whatever, if she wants to marry you, then good luck to her. Anyhow, Mom and Dad can’t stop talking about you. Even when they think I’m not listening.”
A curious grin takes over me. “Good or bad?”
