Chapter 8
CHAPTER
EIGHT
DONNIE
I pull my earbuds out as I open the door to the house. It’s quiet inside. “Connor?”
No answer. He’s definitely home though. His coat is still hanging from the rack by the door. He isn’t in the kitchen or in his bedroom upstairs. The only other option is in the basement—he better not be in the gym.
The door to the theater room is open and on the screen is the default “Ready to Cast” image of the projection system.
Connor is curled up in one of the recliners.
The armchair is fully extended, but he’s folded his big body into a ball, one arm wrapped around his knees, the other hand tucked under his head. He’s fast asleep.
I rushed out of Mars after my last class ended, dodging both Sawyer and Beau before they could stop me with questions I don’t want to answer and frankly, don’t have the answers to.
That confrontation with Beau in the morning isn’t like me.
I don’t get into arguments with people. I don’t get angry over something that has almost nothing to do with me.
There’s something about Connor though, that’s bringing out every single protective instinct I possess.
I don’t usually rush out of Mars like I did either.
Most days I linger and chat with gym members, answer their questions, and give them tips on exercise routines or healthy diets.
If it’s late, I’ll stay to help Sawyer close up.
I never really have anywhere else to be.
I don’t have anyone waiting for me in this big, empty house.
But I do today, and the anticipation had me practically running home.
I quietly flick the switch to turn the projector off and the change in lighting makes Connor stir. He blinks and stretches before lifting his head and spotting me.
“Oh hey, you’re home.”
My heart skips a beat at those two words.
You’re home. They seep into me and warm me up until I feel all gooey and soft.
There’s someone waiting for me and they’re happy that I’m finally here.
My knees are weak, and I take a step toward the door before I sink right down into that recliner with Connor.
“How’s your ankle?” I croak.
Connor rights the recliner and sticks his foot out to rotate his ankle around. “Good. The swelling’s gone.”
“Does it hurt to walk on it?”
He shakes his head with a yawn and reaches up to stretch. His shirt rides up, revealing a swath of skin at his waist and a line of dark blond hair that runs down into his jeans. I look away as the warmth in me heats up.
Now that my body’s had a taste of what it’s been missing for the past several years, it’s hungry for all the touch it can get.
It wants the hugs and the spooning, the sitting in laps and cuddling on the couch.
It wants to feel the glide of skin against skin, the weight of another body pinning it to the bed, the stretch and burn of a cock sliding inside.
It wants everything and the craving is so strong I can hardly breathe.
“I’ll start cooking,” I say, spinning toward the door and not waiting for Connor to follow.
Except he’s right behind me. Close enough for me to feel the air stir as he moves. Close enough for his voice to slither down my spine.
“How was the gym?” he asks.
I busy myself with pulling out ingredients from the fridge, debating whether I should tell him about Miles showing up.
The protective streak I’ve suddenly developed doesn’t want to.
It’s better for him to make a clean break.
But I’m not actually anyone to Connor and I don’t have the right to be protective of him that way.
“Um, well, apparently Miles stopped by this morning.” I try to keep my tone casual, no big deal, no need for Connor to find out about the whole thing with Beau.
Connor’s quiet and when I look over at him, he’s as still as a statue. His lips are pressed tightly together and the color’s drained from his face. My stomach sinks and I wish there was another way—a better way—to do this.
“What did he want?”
“He was looking for you,” I say quietly. “It was before I got there and Sawyer talked to him. He didn’t tell Miles where you are though.”
Connor’s nod is jerky and his shoulders are halfway up to his ears. “What else?”
“That’s it. When Sawyer said he didn’t know where you were, he left.”
Connor’s eyes look unfocused and his chest isn’t moving. Is he holding his breath?
“Connor?”
He starts and sucks in a lungful of air. “Yeah, what? Sorry.”
Now that he’s breathing again he’s actually quivering a bit. I round the end of the island to where he’s sitting on a stool and put my hand on his shoulder. “You weren’t expecting him to show up at Mars, were you?”
Connor leans into my touch and the embers in me glow in delight. I slide my hand to his back and rub comforting circles across it.
“I’m surprised he even remembers the place. He hasn’t used his membership in ages.”
“But he knows you go regularly.”
Connor shrugs and his shoulder brushes up against my stomach. I don’t move away and neither does he.
“I guess.”
“Have you spoken with him today?”
Connor shakes his head again and tilts it to the side so it rests against my chest. Any illusion that we’re trying to keep our distance goes up in smoke.
I hold him to me, my chin to my chest so his hair tickles my nose.
The oxytocin pouring into my system makes everything kind of fuzzy and soft.
Connor’s warm against me, heavy against me, and when he loops his arm around my waist to fit us closer together, I nearly let out a moan.
I don’t know if I’m giving him comfort or if he’s giving me comfort.
Either way, it’s astonishingly peaceful to hold him like that.
“They’ve been messaging me, but I haven’t responded to anything,” Connor says softly, his eyelashes fluttering closed.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
A crease forms between his brows and his bottom lip sticks out. “I kinda do though.”
He nuzzles my chest and it sparks a fire that travels through my limbs. It climbs to my head, making me dizzy with want, and pools in my groin, bathing my dick in heat. I shift to avoid poking Connor with my hard-on. He shifts too, pulling me closer.
This is so inappropriate. I shouldn’t be holding him like this. I shouldn’t even be touching him. Not if something as innocuous as his cheek on my chest is going to give me a raging boner. And especially not when he’s sorting through the mess of a cheating boyfriend.
I tear myself out of his arms and feel utterly bereft when I’m out of touching range.
It’s ridiculous, how much I’m thirsting for him.
Just being in the same room with his little pout and his thick body is driving me right to the edge.
I haven’t been this horny since puberty and it’s more than embarrassing.
I pick up the chef’s knife and start cutting the red pepper and broccoli—something, anything to keep my hands occupied so I don’t reach for him again. “You can respond to them when you want to. Do it on your own terms, not on theirs.”
Connor’s hands are on the counter and he’s twisting his fingers into a knot. “There’s this grant that Wyatt and I applied for. They want to interview us as part of the application process. We need to respond and schedule a time for the interview.”
I keep chopping, sneaking glances in Connor’s direction when I’m not in danger of slicing through a finger. “What’s the grant for?” I realize I don’t even know what Connor does for work or why he would need any kind of grant.
“Film production.” His voice gets smaller and smaller as he speaks. “Wyatt and I met in film school and we’ve been trying to get this project off the ground for ages.”
“You’re a filmmaker.” I would never have guessed that on my own, but now that Connor’s said it, I can see it. There’s a flair about him, something enigmatic that keeps drawing me in.
“A wannabe filmmaker. My day job is at a commercial production company. We make videos for companies. Training videos or event videos or promotional videos for websites. Sometimes actual commercials.”
I switch out the chef’s knife and cutting board to slice beef into bite-sized chunks. “Is that not filmmaking?”
Connor’s mouth twists and he scrunches up his nose like he smells something rancid. “Not really? At least, that’s not the type of thing I wanna make.”
“And what would you rather be making?”
“Horror movies.”
I don’t hide my reaction very well. Connor takes one look at my face and snickers.
“You don’t like horror movies?”
An icy shiver runs down my back. “Ew, no. Why would I want to watch something that scares the crap out of me?”
“Because it’s fun.”
I stare at him incredulously. Who knew cute-as-pie Connor would be into scary movies? “You like being scared?”
“Yeah.” Connor’s eyes are dancing and his smile is mischievous. “Especially when you’re curled up on the couch and a cute guy hides his face behind your shoulder because he’s too afraid to watch.”
I see where he’s going with this. “Right, and when the shoulder isn’t enough, you suggest he hides his face in your crotch.”
Connor’s laugh hits me right where he was rubbing his face earlier. The middle of my chest tingles like I’ve been zapped and the sensation skitters across my skin. I want to wrap myself up in that laugh. I want to press my mouth to his and swallow it down.
“Now you’re getting the idea.” He smiles at me like I’m some kind of hero and I spin toward the stove to start heating up a pan.
“So, um, you’ll have to work with Wyatt for the grant?” I ask, keeping my back to him. It’s safer that way.
He doesn’t answer right away and I peek over my shoulder at him. He’s pouting again and it’s my fault. I want to bring back that smile, that laugh.
“Sorry, we don’t have to talk about that.”
Connor sighs and his shoulders slump forward.
“This grant is kind of a big deal and if there’s any chance that we could get it, it feels stupid to throw it away.
But I don’t know if I can work with Wyatt anymore.
I mean, what if we go through this whole process and don’t get the grant in the end?
Or what if we do get it and then I’ll have to keep working with Wyatt for even longer! ”
None of those options sound all that spectacular and I don’t know what to tell him.
Make up with Wyatt because no guy is worth throwing away something so important?
Or cut his losses and apply for other grants on his own?
It’s a big decision and he’s got a lot of emotion tainting his perspective right now.
I know less than nothing about the film industry, so I have no clue what direction to point him in.
“Is there anyone you can talk to about this? Someone who knows the industry well?”
Connor blinks and furrows his brow. “Maybe Rick. He’s my boss. There’s a professor from school I keep in touch with.”
“Maybe they can help you see the bigger picture.”
Connor nods, his expression serious. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Thanks.”
I didn’t actually do anything, but I’ll take the shy smile he sends my way. I hold it close and let it fuel the embers he’s brought to life inside me.