“I’m always happy.”
“Are you still talking to what’s-her-name?”
“Bella?”
“Bella.” I hope I don’t sound like a bitch saying her name. She’s a nice person.
“Nah. We didn’t work out.”
Conner’s relationships are always short. He can’t keep a girl to save his life.
And I hate that I’m happy about that.
As Conner closes his eyes, I creep inside and grab a blanket from my couch and put it over him. He’s snoring already.
While he sleeps, I stare up at the stars and make a thousand wishes.
All of them about Conner.
When he jolts awake, it’s nearly sunrise. I haven’t slept because my head’s racing and he jumps up, confused and half out of it. “Shit, I’m late.”
“You’ve got time,” I say gently.
He scrubs his face and looks around like he just realized he’s in my backyard. “I fell asleep.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“I… shit.” He’s barefoot and… “Shit.”
Is rocking a serious case of morning wood.
Covering his crotch up doesn’t help. He’stoo big down there. “I gotta get to work.”
“You have time. I’ll make breakfast and coffee.”
“No, I…”
“Sit down, Conner.” I use my big voice and point at the table. “Chill the fuck out. The sun is barely up.”
He crashes into the chair and buries his head in his hands. “Fuuuuck.”
I head inside and make coffee, tea, toast, scrambled eggs, and switch his clothes from the washer to the dryer. Then I bring out breakfast and we watch the sun come up together.
“Slow down or you’re going to kill yourself, Con.”
He doesn’t say a word.
Not as he eats.
Not as he gets dressed.
Not as he leaves to start another long day.
He honks his horn when he pulls away from my house and I shut the door and make a phone call. “Dad. We have to talk.”
Chapter 4
Conner
