I shouldn’t have said anything.
“How can you plan her wedding if you’re still bitter over the scandal?” I ask in detest.
“Because this wedding is the only thing that will return her reputation, and it’ll wipe the stain she’s set to the Calloway name. It’s more important than my bitterness. It has to be perfect.”
She looks me over, as if reminding me that theperfectelement of the wedding is my job. “We need to schedule a venue by the weekend. I’ll send you my top choices. Keep your phone on.” She gives me a tight, rigid hug before leaving the store. And leaving me feeling more overwhelmed than before.
So much shit to do. Like planning a bachelorette party. I would have hired male strippers—but for a recovering sex addict, that’s not the smartest theme. I think Lily and Lo want to have a joint bachelor and bachelorette party anyway.
As I head out the door and find my Escalade on the curb, my mind reverts back to everything that’s been happening with Connor. His thumb. The shower. Love.
Loren may believe that Connor won’t be there for me at the end of the line, but that night at the screening party made me realize how much I do trust him. How much I do know him. Lo was wrong on so many accounts, and that’s only because Connor has let me see more than a couple sides of his life.
Whether Connor says it or not, he loves me enough to let me in more than halfway. And I know it’s time for me to do the same on a different kind of level.
I pull out my phone and send a quick text to Connor.
Bring wine tonight.
Since Lo is sober, we try to keep alcohol out of sight, so I have a trunk in our bedroom that I’ll store our stash in. I pause to think about my choice of alcohol. Wine? I’m probably going to need something stronger.
And tequila.
I take a breath and wait for the text.
Is there a reason we’ll be drinking tonight?– Connor
Surprise. I reply back.
Can’t wait;)– Connor
CHAPTER 20
CONNOR COBALT
Frederick has spentthe past ten minutes giving me the silent treatment. He sits behind his desk and pretends to be interested inThe New York Timeson his computer. He’s pissed that I’m still taking Adderall. But I can’t function without it.
I finish texting Rose and lean back in the leather chair. Frederick hasn’t looked up yet.
“I’m not paying you to ignore me,” I tell him.
His eyes remain on the computer screen. “You’re right. You’re paying for my counsel, which you are clearly not interested in.” He starts typing on his keyboard, the pounding more aggravating than I’ll let on. He has a squared jaw, tousled brown hair and broad-shoulders—in his thirties, fairly good looking, but he never married. His work is his wife.
I press my fingers to my lips in thought. “And you’re not even the slightest bit interested in what Rose texted me?” I try.
His fingers falter as he types, but he regains fluidity. Frederick enjoys talking with me, whether he’ll admit it to himself or not. I’m his most interesting patient.
“She asked me to bring home wine and tequila.” I don’t say anything else.
I watch the curiosity build in Frederick’s eyes until he lets out a sigh and rolls his chair back, his body angled towards me.
“You’re too easy,” I tell him.
“So you’ve told me.” He pauses. “How far have you been with her?”
I hesitate to reveal this, which surprises even me. I’m usually open about everything with Frederick, but being with Rose makes me want to keep every moment close to our chests, so no one can share what happens but us. It takes me about a minute to finally say, “She sucked my cock.”
Frederick’s brows rise in surprise. “You got her to blow you?”
