“Connor,” she gasped, startled, her heart rate quickening. “What are you doing here?”
For a few seconds, he wordlessly stared at her. His gaze wandered over the hem of her light blue dress before drifting up her torso until she wondered if the fabric was see-through, and then it reached her face.
“I don’t want you to go out with my brother,” he said quietly.
“What?”
“I don’t want you to go out with him.”
She swallowed and climbed a step. “You said…”
“I know what I said,” he interrupted, standing. “I’m taking it back.” His jaw muscle worked as he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and middle finger. “I hate the thought of you getting involved with him,” he said, his voice more like a growl. “I don’t want distance, Rachel. I don’t want friendship or professional distance. I don’t want you thanking me for leaving you alone.Like it was bad when I didn’t. Because, fuck, it wasn’t. Even when we were yelling at each other, it never felt…bad.”
Without looking at him, she bit her lip as she pushed past him toward the landing outside her door. She knew what he meant. And it unnerved her. “I asked you, Connor,” she said tensely. “You said you didn’t give a shit who I dated. You can’t suddenly change your mind now.”
“Why not?” he asked quietly. “You also believed that you hated me, yet you changed your mind.”
She paused. The key was in the lock, but she dropped her hand again and turned to him.
He was standing too close. His feet bumped hers. She had to tilt her head back to look at him. He smelled of sea and man, a single temptation that made her breathing shallow and her skin tingle. But it wasn’t fair of him to change the rules.
“How do you know I’ve changed my mind?” she whispered.
“Because the heat in your eyes every time you look at me is no longer anger,” he murmured, gently running his fingers under the slipped spaghetti strap of her dress, pushing it back into place even though he felt like pulling it down. He paused with his fingers longer than necessary, until heat gathered on her skin.
“Oftentimes, it’s still anger, Connor,” she said tensely.
He nodded. “But it's a different kind of anger.”
“How do you know? You're pretending to know me again and…”
“Idoknow you, Rachel,” he murmured earnestly. His gaze was on her face, but all she could focus on was his hand slowly sliding down her bare arm. “I think I knew you the first time I saw you. Because we’re so ridiculously similar. It took me a while to really figure you out, but… Everything about you makes sense to me now. And nothing about what I feel makes sense to me.”
“And that’s my fault, right?” she said defiantly, wanting to take a step back, but her skin clung to his touch, and there was nothing but wall at her back.
“No. Rachel…” He sighed and closed his eyes. “I don’t want to argue.”
“Then what do you want?”
“To stop fighting it. Being angry at you is so incredibly exhausting.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Angry? If you don’t want to argue, Connor, then stop talking bullshit! You…”
“…because I can’t keep my hands off you,” he interrupted quietly, running his hand behind her neck. “Because the highlight of my day was when my arm grazed your back. Because you so obviously hate apologizing, and yet you apologized to me anyway. Even though you believe you’re right. I’m angry at you because I still wanted and still want you to be angry. Because you won’t stop forcing your way into my mind and contradicting me, even though you know I’ve already agreed with you. Because you wanted to spare my feelings by not going out with my brother. Because I hated every second you spent with my brother. Because I’m so damn jealous, it's ridiculous.”
Rachel’s eyes stung as she looked up at him. His thumb stroked the back of her neck, and her body broke out in goosebumps. She was tired of fighting it too. Even if Connor was an idiot! “I wasn’t trying to protect your feelings by not dating your brother, you idiot,” she whispered heatedly, placing her fists on his chest. “I don’t want to date Alec! He may look like you, but he’s not you, and…damn, why aren’t you kissing me yet?” Her voice sounded more desperate than intended, yet he remained standing there, staring at her.
“It’s your turn,” he murmured, smiling a little. “I’ve always made the first move. I bet it’s because you’re a bit scared. I bet you’re waiting for me to confess that every date I’ve been onso far has been more fun with you there. And that I think the concept of distancing is flawed, not to mention shitty, if all it does is get you to date my idiot brother. I bet…”
“Stop it,” she interrupted softly, even as a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Stop making bets you will only lose, Connor.”
“I…”
She didn’t let him finish. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, wrapped her arms around his neck, let herself sink against his broad chest, and he caught her.
Their lips met. It felt so familiar now. So damn right. And Connor didn’t need to be asked twice. He returned the kiss, ruffled her hair, and tilted his head to deepen it. Gentler than in her office or at Galette. Tenderly so that a sweet tug began in her chest. She wanted to feel his bare skin beneath her fingertips, so she tugged at his shirt and slid underneath…
“You really should stop tucking in your shirt. It just gets in the way.”
