He dumps me on the bed and reaches behind his head to take off his shirt, but I’ve cooled off now because his brother might’ve taken a picture of us.
Now I’m on my back in a room full of monitors. It means there are cameras everywhere.
Connor lies on top of me. Blue eyes search my face. “What did I do now?”
“It’s not you.” I press my palms on his hard chest. Under my skin, he’s warm.
“That’s a first.” His gaze darts between my mouth and my eyes. “What’s the problem?”
“The monitors. Are there cameras in this room?”
“Yes, of course. I sleep here.”
“Yes, of course?” I sit up and cup his beautiful face. “Um, no, that’s not how people sleep.”
“I do.”
“I understand, but I can’t.”
“I’ll turn them off.” Shirtless, Connor walks over to the monitor station. There’s an open chess game, which I bet he plays with himself, trying to beat himself every time. I wonder how that works.
I used to play with dolls. I’m wondering if Hanna will play with the pink bear Connor got her when he points to the corner of the screen.
“Camera 1023. Off.”
“Ten twenty-three was your room number at the hospital.”
“You saved my life.” He turns to lean back against the desk.
He crosses his arms over his chest and his legs at the ankle. His muscles ripple under the tattoos covering them. They’re mainly skulls and a gothic tower that might also be a giant skull.
“Do you draw?” I ask, sitting at the edge of the bed. His bed. The room smells like his cologne. Masculine and inviting.
“Mmhm.”
“Did you draw your tattoos?’
“Not all of them. Only the clowns.”
“Why the clowns?”
“Because I’m a vicious joke.”
I’ve noticed Connor talks down on himself once in a while. Self-deprecating humor is one thing, but what I hear from him sounds like something else. When self-deprecation is delivered by a confident male, others might believe it and think he believes it too. I don’t, though, and I tell him so.
Connor just smiles. “I took off my shirt. You rejected me. I’m a fucking joke.”
“That’s not what happened.” I sigh and decide to tell him the truth. “I think your brother snapped a picture of us.”
“And?”
“And it…” I shrug. “It threw me off my game.”
“You don’t need any more game when you’re already the most valuable player.”
I find his black-and-white rug suddenly interesting. “I don’t mean to tease you.”
“I forgive you today. But if you do it again, I might want to keep you around because I like being teased by you.”
