Chapter 29
CHAPTER 29
Raffo was flicking through TV channels in Connor’s living room. The images blurred together, a meaningless stream of colors and faces that couldn’t hold her attention. Mia’s impromptu visit to her studio had left her numb more than anything and she was glad to have the house to herself for a while, to just wallow in it all. Mia with her idle, stupid words. That dreadful cat-shaped cloud she was trying to paint. Connor inviting her to dinner at his mother’s. The thought of sitting across from Dylan at a dinner table made her stomach twist in ways she wasn’t ready to examine.
But most of all it was what Mia had said. That she broke up with Ophelia, who wasn’t serious enough. What did that even mean? Raffo’s train of unstoppable thoughts was interrupted by the ringing of her phone. Her palms started sweating because she had a feeling it might be Mia and she wasn’t in the mood for another confrontation. When she looked at the screen, Dylan’s name appeared. Her pulse jumped, a complicated mix of relief and anticipation flooding her system. Not Mia—but somehow this felt even more dangerous. Her finger hovered over the screen for a heartbeat before she answered.
“Hey, Dylan. What’s up?” The forced casualness in her voice made her wince.
“Raffo, I’m so sorry. Connor knows. He’s on his way home and he’s in a state, as you can imagine.”
Everything that could tighten in a human body, tensed up inside Raffo. “Connor knows? How?”
“Oh, god. Something really stupid. One of the pictures we took synced from my phone to my iPad and he saw it and I just couldn’t come up with another story. I couldn’t lie to him anymore, Raffo. I’m so sorry.”
“He saw one of the naked pictures?” Raffo closed her eyes. Oh, no.
“Yes, I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.”
“Oh, fuck. How did he react?” Raffo took a breath, sinking deeper into Connor’s couch, as though its familiar embrace could shield her from what was coming. She had never wanted Connor to find out but, deep down, perhaps she’d always known it was inevitable, that it was impossible to keep that kind of secret from someone you were so close to—and neither she nor Dylan could be any closer to Con.
“Upset. Like he didn’t get it. Grossed out. In shock. All of it.”
“How are you?” Even though the circumstances weren’t ideal, it was kind of nice to hear Dylan’s voice.
“Mortified,” Dylan said. “Or maybe mortified about having to be mortified is a better way to describe it.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Nothing. Um, Connor told me about what happened today. That Mia stopped by your studio. How are you ?”
“She broke up with her girlfriend and apparently I needed that information.” The words came out bitter and sharp-edged with anger.
“Yeah.” On the other end of the call, Dylan swallowed. “I’m sorry, Raffo. I asked Connor to give you a break because of today, but… he’s hurt because I lied to him. Again.”
“ We lied to him again.”
“I feel terrible. I really do, but—” Dylan didn’t finish her sentence.
“But what?” Raffo asked.
“It’s good to talk to you, even if only for a few minutes, and to give you this shitty heads-up. I?—”
Raffo waited for Dylan to continue.
“Will you let me know how it goes with Con?”
“I have to talk to him first,” Raffo said. “See what we agree on.”
“Sure.” A resigned sigh came through the phone. “I’m sorry again and, um, well, I don’t really know how to end this call, but I’ll just leave you to it.” Without further ado, Dylan hung up.
Raffo sat staring at her phone. She hoped Connor was stuck in traffic. Life had been so much simpler in Big Bear, when she didn’t have to take anyone else into account. Although the fact that she hadn’t was exactly what had made this happen. Poor Connor. He didn’t deserve this.
Raffo did the only thing she could do: with her heart beating nervously in her throat, she waited for her best friend to come home.
The front door burst open with familiar drama, followed by the clatter of keys hitting the entry table and designer shoes clunking on hardwood. Connor arrived home in the way he always had, all noise and look-at-me-I’m-here energy. Raffo uncurled from her spot on the couch, relieved that the news of her sleeping with his mother hadn’t dampened his personality.
“I had a long chat with Murray on the way home,” Connor said as soon as he clocked Raffo. “I don’t know how he did it, but he somehow convinced me that you and my mom lezzing it up together isn’t the worst thing in the world, and maybe it’s not, you know, but fuck, Raff, how could you keep this from me for so long?”
“Because she’s your mom,” Raffo stated the obvious.
Connor shook his head. “I feel like I’m in a really bad soap opera.”
Raffo knew exactly how he felt, except that she hadn’t been lied to by her best friend.
“You’re Raffo Shah.” Connor sank into a chair, his shoulders slumping as though the weight of this revelation was finally hitting him. He gestured vaguely at the living room walls where several of her paintings hung. “You can get with anyone you want. Hell, even your ex wants you back.” He ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair, messing it up in a way he’d never normally allow.
Raffo swallowed hard at the reference to Mia.
“Why, of all the women in the world, did you have to get with my mom?”
She also didn’t know how to reply to that. She could hardly share the reasons of her attraction to Dylan with Connor. It was simply impossible.
“ My mom.” Connor shook his head dramatically.
“I’m sorry, Con. I can’t really explain it.”
“Mom said it was more proximity than anything else.”
Raffo’s muscles tightened further. That’s not how Dylan had put it to her, but she could understand why Dylan would say something like that to her son.
“Yeah. I guess that it was.”
“You don’t, like, have any feelings for her, do you?” He looked at Raffo with such desperation in his eyes, as though it would be the end of him if Raffo felt something for his mother.
Raffo knew, rationally, that a simple no was the best—and only—way to go here, yet she found herself saying, “Your mother is an extraordinary woman. She was there for me and she… gave me back my mojo, Con. That’s a huge deal for me.”
“What does that mean?” There was a hint of venom in his tone. “You started sleeping with her so you could paint again? She’s your muse now?”
“Not exactly, but… she had this soothing, healing effect on me. She’s so kind and giving and…” Hot . “I just really like her.”
“So it wasn’t just sex?”
“No,” Raffo said, because she’d be damned if she told Connor another lie, no matter how much the truth might upset him. “I kind of miss her, but I’m trying to get over that. We haven’t been in touch. We’re keeping our distance. Out of, um, respect for you.” That couldn’t sound sillier if she tried.
Raffo braced for a vicious reply, but Connor remained silent for a few moments. “Look, Raff, apart from the fact that you sleeping with my mom grosses me out big time, you and I, we’re more than friends. We’re building something big and important, something I believe in with all of my heart. I believe in you and your talent so much, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. But this…” He huffed out some air. “We can’t risk our relationship because you have a crush on my mom.”
“What are you talking about? Our relationship is not at risk.” Was it?
“I don’t want to be the person to deny you whatever it is you need, but please, don’t start up with my mom again. I can’t stomach that. You’re my friend. I need you too.”
“Con, come on, our friendship is not in danger.”
“You say that now.”
“Your mom and I, that’s over. Okay? That’s the decision we made.” For you, she didn’t add. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
“I’d hate for you to be my stepmom.” He painted on a forced smile.
“That would be the day.” Raffo chuckled, because what else was she going to do? “You’d never listen to me, anyway.” Raffo made a mental note to text Murray later to ask him about his conversation with Connor.
“Damn right I wouldn’t.” He blew some air through his teeth. “Now tell me about Mia? Because I’m seeing through her gameplay already, Raffo, and I’m not going to let that bitch get her claws back into you just like that.”
“I’ve had some time to mull that over and I don’t think that’s what her visit was about.”
Connor gave her his quizzical look, one eyebrow arched up and his lips pursed judgmentally.
“I think that, maybe, everything that’s happened is catching up with her. She went from dumping me to jumping into this thing with Ophelia and now that it’s over, she’s probably grieving both relationships. Even though she fell out of love with me, we were together ten years. We’ve been through a lot together. We became grown-ups together, really. That’s not something you can shake off that easily.” That’s how Raffo had decided to spin Mia’s visit in her head.
“We’ll have to see about that.” Connor pulled his lips into a sweet smile. “Were you painting when she arrived?”
“Trying to.” Raffo sighed. She always told Connor precisely how her work was going. He was her artistic sounding board in that way—although he didn’t always have the answers both of them craved. “It’s not coming together just yet.”
“I’m not sending you back to Big Bear.” Was that a hint of glee in his voice?
“Did your mom say whether she would sell the house or not?”
“I think she hasn’t decided yet.” Connor’s tone was neutral again, as though his mother wasn’t the subject.
Raffo, somehow, would hate if Dylan resorted to selling the lake house. Still, it was none of her business.
“Oh god.” Connor went rigid in his chair. “If my mom has naked pictures of you on her phone, does that mean you have nudes of her on yours?”
A flush spread from Raffo’s neck to her cheeks. “For the sake of our friendship,” she said, trying to keep her voice level, “let’s not discuss that.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Connor groaned.