25. CONAN
Chapter twenty-five
T his woman’s touch was like fire straight to my groin. I was instantly hard and wanted nothing more than to throw her against the side of the pool, feast on all she had to offer, and fuck her thoroughly. But the fact remained—she had no idea who she was or the life she’d had before the wreck that brought her to me. No matter how badly I wanted her, it wasn’t an option.
I seized her hand before she went any further and slowly shook my head. “No.” Every man had his breaking point, and I could only resist so much.
Angel pursed her lips into a pout, squinching her eyes in frustration. Irritation was etched across her face, her brow furrowed and her nose crinkled. She crossed her arms and let out a huff, clearly not happy about being stopped, and allowed space to come between us. The expression on her face was almost comical, but I knew better than to laugh. She was really worked up, and there was something oddly endearing about her fiery reaction.
I floated lazily on the pool lounger, letting the cool water lap against my skin, enjoying a rare moment of peace. My eyes closed as I let myself relax—that was, until Angel gave my float a hard shove, flipping me into the water with a huge splash.
The shock of the water hitting my skin woke me up real quick. I surfaced, sputtering and shaking the water from my hair, only to see Angel swimming away, her laughter echoing across the patio. “You’re gonna pay for that!” I called out, diving after her.
She was fast, but not fast enough. When she reached the edge of the pool and grabbed onto the side, trying to pull herself out, I closed the gap between us, wrapping my arms around her waist.
“You’re not getting away that easy,” I growled. In one swift motion, I spun her around and pinned her against the wall, planting my hands firmly on either side of her head, trapping her in place. The water sloshed around us, up to her shoulders, and her wide eyes met mine, filled with surprise and something else—something that ignited a fire within me.
My eyes traced the silvery scar cutting through the perfect skin of her forehead. I raised a hand, softly trailing my wet fingers over the mark. “You’re beautiful,” I murmured, locking my eyes onto hers. She let out a soft gasp.
Her eyes darted to the water, and she tried to pull away, her cheeks flushing a deep pink. “Don’t,” she murmured, turning her head. “That thing makes me look like a monster.”
I tilted her chin back toward me, brushing my thumb against her jaw. “Bullshit,” I said firmly. “You look fierce. This scar is a badge of courage, showing you’re a survivor.”
Her pupils dilated, and she bit her lower lip. My touch had affected her. The blush spreading down her neck—and the way her chest rose and fell as she all but panted—told me she was not only embarrassed but aroused, and it was driving me wild.
I leaned in closer until our noses were almost touching. “You think this scar makes you ugly? No. When I see it, I see strength.” I kissed the scar, then moved to her temple, trailing kisses down to her jaw.
She shivered, resting her palms on my chest.
Lust pulsed through me, raw and undeniable, but the nagging concern of not taking advantage of her held me back. I was teetering on the edge of control. Every nerve in my body screamed to take her right then and there, but I couldn’t let myself cross that line—one she might later regret. Not with her amnesia, not with her unknown past hanging over us.
It was my duty to protect her.
I didn’t want to be the guy who couldn’t control what the fuck he did with his mouth, as Atticus had put it. She needed more time to heal, more time for her memories to return.
With a sigh, I let my hands slide down her sides, feeling the curve of her waist and the swell of her hips beneath the water. My desire for her was overwhelming, the tension between us electric. I needed to make sure this was what she truly wanted—to make sure she was in a good place mentally.
I allowed my body to sink under the water until my feet were planted on the bottom. Then, in a single fluid movement, I pulled back and pushed off with a powerful kick. I swam to the other edge of the pool, needing a moment to collect myself.
When I surfaced, I folded my arms on the pool deck and rested my chin on my clasped hands, staring out at the night.
The silence between us stretched, thick with tension. We were locked in a silent standoff. She wanted me—that much was clear—and dammit, I wanted her too. It was a battle of wills, of restraint and desire, and for now, I had to be the one to stand my ground.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, trying to shake off the urge that kept gnawing at me. I had to focus and take deep cleansing breaths just not to get a hard-on. Palming a handful of water, I splashed it over my face. The coolness of it did little to quell the heat coursing through me though.
I thought about how wrong it would be to fuck this woman, how taking advantage of her when she was in this state would be making a move I couldn’t take back. She was vulnerable, even if she didn’t show it. Even if she tried to act tough, there was a fragility to her situation that I had to respect. I had to remember who she was right now—a woman without her past, without her memories.
I was leaning against the edge of the pool, lost in thought, when I heard the faint sound of water being disturbed. Angel was gliding through the pool, her strokes smooth and nearly silent. Then the rhythmic sound halted, causing me to glance around.
Out of nowhere, she yanked my swim shorts down to my ankles.
I jerked, completely shocked. Angel, of all people, had the guts to pull a stunt like that. When she came up for air, she was treading water in the middle of the pool. She locked her eyes onto mine and gave me a smug grin.
Reaching down, I retrieved my shorts and threw them out of the pool, watching them land on the patio with a wet slap. When I turned back, her eyes widened, and her brows shot up. But then that smug grin of hers reappeared, and she rolled her eyes—taunting me, provoking me.
“I have no shame, Angel,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and staring back at her. “And you shouldn’t tempt the devil. ”
She laughed. “Maybe I like living dangerously.”
“You’re playing with fire,” I warned, swimming toward her, the water parting smoothly around me. “What’s your endgame?”
She shrugged, her lips curving into a sly smile. “No endgame. Just living in the moment.”
I reached her in a few powerful strokes, stopping just inches from her. Sparks of tension flew between us. “You’re pushing me to my limits,” I said, reaching out to brush a wet strand of hair from her face. “But don’t think I won’t push back.”
Her breath hitched, her eyelashes heavy with desire. “Then push back, Conan.”
Clenching my teeth, I fought the urge to lose myself in her. I couldn’t let things go too far, not with her in this state. But damn, she made it hard.
I slid my hands around her waist, pulling her close until our bodies were pressed together in the water. “You’re driving me insane,” I murmured against her ear. Reflexively, my hands traced the curves of her ass. “But I can’t do this.”
She looked up at me, her eyes wide. “Why? What’s holding you back?”
“You deserve better than a quick fuck in a pool,” I said, reluctantly releasing her. “You deserve everything I can’t give you.”
Her expression softened. “Conan, I want you. Here—now. Let’s stop complicating things.”
The words struck a chord, but I shook my head and started to turn. Without warning, she leaped onto me, wrapping her arms and legs around me. Unable to think straight, I pulled her toward me once more, our bodies colliding in the water, our lips meeting in a heated kiss. Fuck, did she taste good. Her hard nipples, only covered by the thin fabric of her swimsuit, pressed against my chest, and all I wanted to do was take one between my teeth .
But I had to push her away while I still had a shred of control. With all the strength I could muster, I lifted her and flung her backward. There was a loud splash behind me as I turned toward the stairs.
The water’s surface rippled from her fall, lapping against the edge of the pool. Her hands smacked against the surface as she broke through, coughing and sputtering. I winced at the sound of her struggle.
“What the hell is your problem, Conan?!” she shouted angrily, her voice garbled by the water. I paused, my steps faltering.
I spun around to face her. The pool lights highlighted her wet, furious face as she dipped under and then resurfaced with her hair slicked back. Her eyes blazed with frustration, demanding that I explain myself.
“Angel, I—”
But she didn’t let me finish. “One minute you’re all over me; the next you’re shoving me away,” she said, treading water. “You’re giving me fucking whiplash.” She massaged her neck to emphasize her point.
As I often did out of habit when searching for things to say, I pulled the hair tie off my ponytail, then scraped my fingers through my hair before tying it back up again. “You don’t understand. This isn’t about you. It’s about me trying to do the right thing.”
“The right thing?” she scoffed, her voice steadier now. “What’s so wrong about this?”
Taking a deep breath, I turned to face her fully. “You’re not just some girl I can fool around with. You deserve more than that. And with everything you’ve been through, the last thing you need is me complicating things further. ”
She glared at me. “I think I get to decide what I need, Conan. And right now, I need you to stop treating me like I’m fragile—broken.”
With my arms crossed and my chin held high, I clenched my jaw. “Angel, listen. Of course I want to fuck you,” I said, being blunt, as was my nature. “But I’m not about to take advantage of an innocent girl.” I stared at her, trying to keep my resolve.
Angel’s eyes sparked with defiance. “I’m not a child, and I’m far from innocent.”
I heaved a sigh and turned my back to her, making my way to the pool’s steps. The water lapped around my waist as I moved, but the coolness did little to calm me.
“You put on a good show, playing the fun-loving laid-back type of guy one minute and the indifferent badass the next. But I can see through your act!” she called out. “You’re more of the tortured-soul type.”
“Nah,” I said over my shoulder, keeping my tone light. “I’m always easy, go with the flow, you know?”
“No, you’re not,” she said. “You might be lying to yourself, but I see the truth. You’re a man who puts on a good front so often you believe your own bullshit.”
Her words stopped me in my tracks. Once more, I turned to face her. The distance between us seemed like a million miles. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?”
She swam forward, making it to a spot where she could stand her ground only a few feet in front of me, and glared at me, her eyes fierce. “I didn’t say that. I may not remember much from before the accident, but I remember everything after. The songs you sang to me and the way you sang them…they were all about heartache and sadness. All I could do was listen and absorb your pain alongside my own. ”
She fired off a couple of the song titles and recited a few lyrics. “And what about when you sang the song ‘Hurt’ by Johnny Cash, which is about becoming a shell of a man and losing everyone you love? Or that song ‘Creep’ by Radiohead about feeling like an outsider who is unworthy of affection, a man who is inadequate and full of self-loathing. You can’t fake that kind of emotion. I could go on and on. Remember, you’ve spent hours with me—and I heard every word.”
I swallowed hard. Her insight hit closer to home than I wanted to admit. “You’re reading too much into it.”
“No, I’m not,” she insisted. “Your tattoos tell a story too. The skull on your back, the black widow on your neck, the bloody axes, the broken heart—all intermixed with the sexy women. You try to paint yourself as some badass, but I see the truth. You’re not just the easygoing live-and-let-live guy. In reality, you’re more like a jaded, brokenhearted little boy who lost his momma way too early and who has a giant, sensitive, although scarred , heart that has been hurt too many times.”
I clenched my fists at my sides, the truth in her words stinging. How did she perceive so much? I had always buried my past beneath a facade of indifference and charm. But she had seen right through that.
“Why are you giving me such a hard time?” I asked, attempting to maintain my calm.
“Because I see you, Conan. The real you,” she replied, her tone softening. “And I want you to see me too.”
I took a step back, needing space to process. Her insight was like a punch to the gut, and I had to remind myself to stand strong against the temptation she represented, even though my body craved hers.
Still not convinced that hooking up with her was something I could do—or maybe it was the beer making me more argumentative than normal—I chose to push back with logic. “How do you know you’re not a virgin, or perhaps married?” I asked, throwing caution to the wind.
Angel didn’t miss a beat. “Trust me, I’m no virgin. I might not remember having sex, but virgins don’t have IUDs or wild fantasies about what they’d do to you playing around in their minds.” Her lips curled into a wicked grin.
“What about a husband?”
“If I had a husband, don’t you think he’d come looking for me? If anyone gave a shit about me, they would have shown up by now. Obviously, in my past life, I must have been a loner or a loser. The kind of person no one cares about or notices when they disappear. What does that say about me? No wonder you don’t want any part of me. I get it.”
I blinked, her words hitting me like a freight train. I wasn’t going to listen to this level of self-deprecation from her. “Shut the fuck up!” I snapped, unable to keep the anger out of my voice. “There’s no way you’re alone or unwanted. Can’t be. I’ve spent plenty of time with you. You’re smart, funny, sensitive, not to mention drop-dead gorgeous. I meet people all day every day in the ED, and trust me, you are head and shoulders above most of them.”
Angel’s eyes narrowed, skepticism flickering in them. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” Her tone was softer now, almost fragile. She would hate to know I actually did think that because of her injuries, so I kept it to myself.
“I’m not lying,” I barked, my frustration boiling over. “You’re amazing, and if people from your past haven’t shown up, it’s their fucking loss. Not yours.”
She scowled fiercely. “Then why won’t you be with me? Why are you holding back? ”
I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to gather my thoughts. “Because, my Angel, you deserve someone who can give you everything without any reservations. And right now, I’m not sure I can be that guy. You’ve been through so much. The last thing I want to do is take advantage of you or one day be a regret.”
Angel backstroked to the side of the pool. Spreading her arms out along the edge, she leaned her head back and stared up at the full moon. She remained silent for a long time.
“There’s one thing that does make me unsure. I know I’m not a shy wallflower, Conan,” she began. “But I’ve had dreams—confusing ones. Sometimes I’m this quiet, studious girl, and other times I’m a wild party girl who takes exactly what she wants. I don’t know who I am or which of those personas actually fits, but I do know life is too short not to live in the present.”
As she spoke, I watched, unable to look away. Her face was so incredibly beautiful, illuminated by the moon. For a beat, neither of us spoke. I exhaled a slow breath.
She gazed up at the stars with a melancholy expression. Even from where I was standing, I could see the unshed tears glistening in her eyes. “What if I never get my memories back? Am I supposed to live life in limbo or move on?”
I stayed silent, watching her breath. I wanted to freeze time, to hold on to this moment forever. No woman had ever affected me this deeply. Maybe it was her innocence—the fact that she was a blank slate due to her amnesia, free to write her story anew without the weight of past memories. God, how I longed to help her fill those empty spaces.
“You know, in the vast timeline of the universe, our lives are but fleeting moments,” she said. “Everything is temporary—the worst of times, the best times—especially the best ones. We only have so many years to experience love and life as humans. We should embrace every moment, even the painful ones, and love them, all of them, no matter the pain or the pleasure, because they are all part of our journey.”
She took a deep breath, speaking thoughts that I could never put into words.
“Heartache, grief, agony—they all teach us, shaping who we are. There’s no wasted experience if we learn from it. Our willingness to fail determines our capacity to grow. The clock never stops ticking. The only regret you’ll have is not striving harder for what you truly wanted when it was right in front of you.”
Her insightfulness hit me hard. She was right. The sand in the hourglass never slowed down, and we only had so much time to reach for what we wanted.
Bringing her focus back to me, she threw up her hands, her eyes flashing with annoyance. “I have to move on at some point,” she said, biting her lip. “I can’t just live here with Sam and Atticus. I have to figure out how to take care of myself. I deserve to live a normal life like everyone else.”
She paused, inhaling sharply. “And…how dare you get up on some sort of moral high horse and judge me for being a goddamn woman with needs and wants?”
Her words hit me like a punch. I stepped back, my mind racing. “Angel, it’s not about judgment. It’s about acting with integrity. You’re in a delicate place right now. I don’t want to be the guy who takes advantage of that.”
She pursed her lips, irritation etched across her features. “Maybe I don’t need you to protect me. Maybe I just need you to see me as a person who deserves to live, to feel, to want.”
Hesitating for a moment, I breathed in the scent of chlorine and summer air. “I see you, Angel. Trust me, I do. ”
Her eyes softened, the fire dimming but not extinguished. “Then show me, Conan. Show me that you see me.”
I scrubbed my hand over my chin as her words resonated in my mind. Dammit, she had a point, and I had no retort for her logic. I wanted to argue, to push back, but she had me pinned. She was so fucking smart and confident, and that turned me on more than I cared to admit. But the last thing I wanted was to take advantage of her. I stood at the end of the pool, unsure what to say or how to react. She had me cornered, and no matter which way I moved, it felt like the wrong decision.
If I pushed her away, she’d think I wasn’t interested. But if I gave in, I’d be taking advantage of her.
“Angel—you’re making this so hard.”
“It’s not about making things easy or hard. It’s about being real,” she replied, her gaze unflinching. “I want you to see me for who I am, just like I see you.”
Stabbing my fingers into my wet hair, I gripped my head in frustration, torn between my desires and being the kind of man she deserved. “You don’t make anything simple, do you?”
She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Never.”
Dropping my hand to my side, I took a couple of steps toward her, my resolve crumbling as she dipped back into the water and resurfaced. “Fine, you want the truth? You’re right. I’ve been hurt. But that doesn’t change the fact that you deserve better than this. Better than me.”
“Maybe,” she said softly. “I’m not asking for perfection, Conan. I’m asking for you.”
I stared at her—conflicted. This woman had a way of cutting through my defenses, seeing the parts of me I tried to hide. And damn, did I want her.
“I’m warning you. I’m not a hero. I’m not even close.”
“Ever thought I might just want you, flaws and all? ”
Her arguments were like a drug, intoxicating and impossible to resist. This was just the beginning, and I knew it was going to be one hell of a ride.