“Why?”
“Sheesh, I’m looking for new friends,” Cian muttered wearily, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes.
Connor caught Gareth’s eye across the table and returned his grin. Cian made sure that they didn’t run off the rails and become total assholes. He insisted that it wasn’t always about winning, but sometimes, just about being decent. They needed him and his outlook on life.
Which wasn’t to say they didn’t have to pay him back now and then for always expecting them to be good guys. And he really took this whole love thing too seriously — which made it easy to unsettle him.
Connor leaned back in his chair and smiled.
Fall in love first. Then consider getting serious.
Connor could easily imagine finding a woman he liked so much he’d want to share his life with her. But falling in love had never been on his agenda. Love meant dependency, and he wouldn’t let himself enter into that. But that wasn’t the problem.It was all about how the partner he found felt. That was what he had been paying attention to in the bet.
You might be able to make a woman come, Conner, but can you also make her happy?
He gritted his teeth. Well, he’d deal with that when the time came. And he’d just stay away from Rachel. He saw absolutely no reason why he should talk to her anytime soon, at least not until his next date…
Chapter Ten
Making mistakes is human.
From the self-help book for self-pitiers by psychologist Rachel James
So you are very, very human, right? - Connor
Rachel picked up her pet chicken Eggsy from the desk chair and looked out the window at Scotland-Beard before pulling down the agency’s blinds.
It was Wednesday evening and Maddie and Hailey had finished work half an hour ago. Five days ago, she’d had the best orgasm of her life. And three days ago, she’d learned that she’d done Connor a huge injustice.
Shit. She didn’t like being wrong. Connor had stood up his high school girlfriend because he had to babysit his siblings, and she’d used that to ruin his date.
She buried her head in her hands and sighed softly as she sank into the chair. She needed a short break before she closed up shop.
She’d ruined his date and he’d practically given her a ready-made analysis of why Match Me! kept matching her with the wrong men.
She’d been the asshole, hadn’t she? Not Connor. Connor wasn’t...an asshole at all. He might be short-tempered, too opinionated, and a touch arrogant, but he didn’t intentionally hurt people. He merely defended his principles. And it was very difficult for her to get over that realization.
Groaning, she pulled her vibrating phone out of her pocket, which told her she had four new voicemails. One was from her lawyer in Chicago, which she would listen to tomorrow. She didn’t want to ruin her evening. Another was from Maya wanting to know how things were going. But the other two...were very short and left her with a hole in her stomach.
Rachel, it’s your dad. I can’t seem to reach you.
That was it. And the next one was from Lucy:I don’t want to rush you. I don’t want Maddie to tell me I’m being too harsh, that I’m scaring you away again — but, shit, Rachel, go fucking see Dad!
She lowered the phone, closed her eyes, and massaged her temples. Fear and anxiety rose within her, encasing her pounding heart. They were right. Both of them. She should go and talk to her father. But every time she even thought about it, she broke out in a cold sweat. Every time she tried to form words, her tongue felt heavy and foreign in her mouth, and all she heard was her mother’s voice in her head.
They don’t need to know, Rachel. They wouldn’t understand. They’re not like us. They’re not meant for more.
But Rachel had never wantedmore! She’d only givenmorebecause people expected it. She hadn’t wanted to disappointanyone. But in the end, that had backfired, hadn’t it? She would hurt everyone even more precisely because she hadn’t wanted to disappoint them back then.
She took a shaky breath as the bell on the door announced a customer.
“Sorry, we’re actually…” She paused. A middle-aged woman stood in the room. Her red-rimmed eyes clearly showed that she’d just been crying.
Automatically, Rachel rose from her chair. “Hey,” she said softly. “Can I help you?”
The woman wore a white blouse, a long skirt, and expensive shoes that Scotland-Beard would surely be happy to gift with something rank. She seemed elegant but approachable. Strong but sad.
“I saw the sign outside,” she said, brushing her bangs back from her forehead. “Do you really believe you can help people choose the right lifelong partner?”
