She takes another long, noisy sip as my thoughts unintentionally drift back to Ashton. “She seems nice.”
“Who?”
“Ashton’s girlfriend.”
“Oh . . .” Reagan pauses and then murmurs, “Yeah. Too nice for him. I feel guilty every time I see her. If he could just learn to keep it in his pants . . .”
Wait . . . “He cheats on her, a lot?” It wasn’t just with me?
She shrugs. “I hear things. A lot of things. He has quite the appetite. His heart and his brain are two separate entities that don’t commingle. Ever. Poor, sweet Dana doesn’t have a chance in hell of satisfying him.”
“I’m sure no one does,” I murmur, silently relegating him to top spot on the man-whore totem pole.
When we reenter the house, there are a dozen new people in the kitchen and adjoining family room, taking up the right side of the house, opposite the den. More people are at the front door, trickling in.
“You guys good?” Connor appears with my drink. “Sorry, I was going to bring it out, but you looked like you were having a serious conversation.”
“We were, but . . .” I glance over at Reagan, who’s fluttering through the room with waves and nudges and smiles. Grant trails two feet behind her, his eyes glued to the back of her head, a goofy expression on his face. And I smile to myself, wondering if Reagan has any clue that Grant is seriously crazy about her.
“But what?”
The sound of Connor’s Irish intonation brings me back to him, to his beautiful green eyes and his easygoing smile. “Girl stuff,” I say as I clink his glass.
The smile never slips from Connor’s face, even as I catch his eyes flickering to my lips for a second before lifting back up to ask, “How were your first few classes?”
I open my mouth to answer when the stereo blasts on. We both turn in time to see Ty strut out in his kilt, rubbing his hands up and down over a puffed-out chest as he surveys the crowd.
“He likes to accidentally flash people when he sits down.”
I lift a brow. “Accidentally?”
Shaking his head, Connor admits, “No. Come on.” He grabs my hand and leads me back out to the deck where I just stood with Reagan, shivering against the chilly night air.
Connor must notice my involuntary shudder, because he slips his arm around my shoulder and pulls me toward him so that I’m tucked against his broad chest. “Better?” he murmurs, his one hand rubbing up and down my arm. “Okay, now tell me how your classes were.”
I let myself soak up Connor’s body heat for a moment as my nose absorbs the scent of his cologne—light and clean, with hints of lavender. And I silently marvel at how comfortable this is.
I tell him about the two science classes I had on Thursday and Friday and the ones I have next week. I tell him all about the volunteer job at the hospital and about the twins, rehashing their interrogation.
“Derek and Eric are twins?”
I roll my eyes and giggle. “I know.”
He takes a sip of his beer and then his arm moves back, pulling me tighter. “So, what makes you want to go into pediatrics?”
“It’s just something I knew I wanted to do since I was young. I can’t picture myself doing anything but that.” Stayner’s words from this morning slink into my thoughts and I instantly chase them out.
“That’s noble. And sweet,” Connor says. Letting my head tilt back a bit, I feel his head turn, his lips brush my forehead as he murmurs, “And hot.”
I swallow and duck back down, knowing my face is red again. “What about you, lawyer?”
I get jostled lightly as Connor shrugs. “I come from a long line of lawyers. Me and Ashton both, actually. It’s a family tradition. Are your parents doctors?”
I shake my head, smiling wistfully. “My dad was a high school principal and math teacher. My mom was a music teacher.”
There’s a long pause. “Was?”
Taking a deep breath, I pull away from Connor, enough to see his serious expression. “Yeah . . .was.” I take a long chug of my drink. And then I tell him everything—about the car accident, about Kacey almost dying, about all the people who did die that night. About Trent. Everything.
As I talk, I feel his arm slide around my shoulders and tighten. I feel his other arm wrap around my body, his hand cupping the side of my head, his thumb grazing my cheek, pulling me even closer than I was before, until I close my eyes and let my head melt against his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat, cocooned in his warmth. Protected.
We stand like that through an entire song, not talking, swaying silently to the beat, until Ty barrels through the door, visibly more drunk than he was only twenty minutes ago. “Now I remember you!” he bellows, holding his hand out and wiggling his fingers. “Come on. Lemme see that picture. I need to make sure it’s flattering.”
“Oh no . . .” I groan, shrinking back.
Connor laughs unsuspectingly as he gives Ty a playful shove. Taking my hand, he leads me back. “Let me show you the rest of the house.” Connor keeps me close as we weave through the house and he introduces me to people. I think I remember a few of them. I pray they don’t remember me. Or that I likely told them that I loved them. And I sure as hell hope they don’t remember me with Ashton.
Once I’ve seen the entire main floor, Connor leads me upstairs. “That’s Grant’s room,” he says with a head nudge to the left. “Across from him is Ty.” As we pass by the bathroom, he murmurs, “You’ve already seen that.” I nod, biting my bottom lip as I glare at it, as if the room itself did something heinously wrong. At the end of the hall are two doors opposite each other. “That’s Ash’s,” he says, a lazy hand waving to the open door on the left, revealing a king-sized bed and dark gray linens. I instantly picture Ashton’s body stretched out over those sheets as he was the morning in my dorm room, and my stomach muscles tighten.
Opening the closed door to the right, Connor leads me into a large bedroom with a double bed and two giant windows. “This room’s mine,” he says, turning on a small lamp.
I’m in Connor’s bedroom. Did he bring me up here for a reason? My eyes skim over the space, settling on the bed for a moment. Does he think we’re going to have sex tonight? I clear my voice and offer, “Nice house,” as I spin around, noticing the door was left slightly open.
Connor is leaning against a wall, watching me intently. “My parents own it. They bought it two years ago so I could get off campus for my junior and senior years. Almost everyone lives on campus around here, but I was finding it a bit too much. And the guys jumped at the chance to move in with me. They pay next to nothing for room and board, so it was worthwhile for them.” Stepping forward to push a thick lock of my hair back behind my ear, he murmurs, “Relax, Livie. I didn’t bring you up here with any expectations.” His hand moves to cradle my chin. “Just one hope . . .” Leaning down, Connor’s lips slowly close over mine, moving as if coaxing a response. It feels safe and warm and nice.
That doesn’t mean I’m not petrified that I’m doing it all wrong, that Connor will regret me as well. When he breaks away, I wonder if my one drunken night was enough to teach me the basics. With my bottom lip tucked under my teeth, I look up to see eyes a darker shade of green and more glossy than normal.