2. Connor
Two
Connor
Well, fuck. As soon as she got out of her car weeks ago with her clipboard, I knew who she was. Emma Flynn. It has been my mission to learn everything about the girl who was being harassed at the bar. It was unhealthy and almost stalkerish. But I wasn’t able to get her out of my head. Kicking myself for even thinking about her when that isn’t like me and never would be. I wasn’t the settle-down type, and honestly I never wanted to be. But someone like her? You can’t just fuck her and walk away. She’s someone you take home for family dinner. Emma Flynn was too sweet for a guy like me. I’d ruin her.
That night in the bar, she seemed so shy, so timid. I was wrong. Little Fighter has a lot to say. Watching the way she talks to the guys on my crew and the way she commands that everyone has her attention was enough to tell me she wasn’t a timid person. Every time she takes a phone call, she’s all business, and fuck if I don’t enjoy watching her like that. It wasn’t often people called me out for the way I worded things or held a conversation. It’s not like I’m trying to be rude. I just found that it’s easier to live a quiet life than a loud one. Because all the years when I tried to be loud, it backfired, and all I ended up with was a broken heart and no idea of what to do with myself.
But Emma tested me. She called me out, and I asked her on a fucking date. I can’t remember the last time I asked someone on a date who I wasn’t trying to fuck at the end of the night. Would fucking Emma make my night? Hell yeah, it would. Though that isn’t why I asked her. I asked her because at least I would know she’d eat dinner tonight if I was there watching, and then maybe I’d feel better for not noticing something was wrong sooner. I wouldn’t feel the blame and the guilt, something I was familiar with.
Closing the door to my temporary house, I put down my stuff and pulled out my phone as I walked to the kitchen for a water bottle. Shifting through the few numbers I had in my phone, I called my older brother Tyler. After a couple of rings, he answered.
“Hey, you good?” he asked.
“Can’t I call my brother without him asking if I’m good?”
“You’re not so chatty.”
“Fair, maybe I should have called Ava.”
“Now what would you need with my girl?”
“I’m in trouble.” I admitted.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, are you in jail again?”
“No, but it might be related to that situation.”
“Alright, what’s going on?” His voice was laced with concern. Tyler was always the brother to go to for advice. He was calm and patient, and being the oldest, he had the most experience. I don’t express my appreciation for him often, especially after him going through cancer, but even my asshole ways can admit he’s a damn good brother. It’s not that I don’t like my brothers. I like to hang out with them. I just find basic conversations hide true feelings. It was safer to listen and to watch. See if the words coming out of their mouths were true and if maybe I was missing something.
“I asked her out today.” I said after a moment of silence.
“Her?”
“The woman from the bar.”
“Okay, so I missed something. When the hell did you see her again?”
“I’ve been working with her for a couple of weeks or so.”
“What?”
“She’s one of the design coordinators on my latest project.” I left out the fact that I had already known that before. After some asking around, it wasn’t hard to find her on social media.
“So, you work with her, and you haven’t been an asshole?” He laughed.
“No, I have. Then she almost passed out today.”
“Oh?”
“She’s diabetic,” I sighed. “I told her she needs to take better care of herself. She then asked why I punched that guy for her. I told her he deserved it.”
“Sounds like you might have a crush.”
“I don’t do crushes, Tyler. I’m a grown-ass man.”
“Connor, get over yourself.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know, maybe, you know, be nice to her on this date?”
“I can try that.”
“This might have been the longest you’ve ever talked at one time. Seems like she’s already changing you.”
“Fuck off.” I rolled my eyes despite him not being able to see me.
“And on that note, I have to go. Just give it time, and maybe tell her you’re sorry for how you acted.”
“Noted.”
After quick goodbyes, I hung up the phone and set it on the counter. Be nice. Yeah, no problem. I can do that. It’s not that it isn’t in my nature. I just never saw myself as a one-woman man after the last time. I learned the hard way that they can hurt you if you do that, and it’s been easier to just keep a fuck buddy. With the lifestyle I’m in, it’s hard to skip to a different female every night, so for the most part, I had a Little in the bedroom only. I made it clear that it would never lead to anything else.
I could give her her fantasies in a safe way, and, well, I got to be a Daddy and get the pent-up need to look out for someone else in a way where I wouldn’t fall in love.
Only now, when I think about taking care of someone, it’s Emma. I think about her crazy red hair and those wide blue eyes when she looked into mine after I hit that jackass. How she was slightly shaking and softly thanked me when I handed her money. She seemed… alone. Empty. I know that fight is in her. I saw it today. But for some reason, she wasn’t defending herself that night. I want to know why. Why was she able to look into my eyes and call me out but unable to do it to someone less built and shorter than I am?
Finishing the water bottle, I threw it away and headed for my room. There wasn’t much in it, just a queen bed with a couple of nightstands and a dresser. I wasn’t planning to stay in this house long. When I started building my own house, I didn’t think it would take this long, but it happened to be the same time C&E took off, and running my own company takes more of my time now. Sitting in an office bossing people around isn’t what I signed up for. I want to be out there putting in the hard work, so I opted to have an office here when I need it and work with the crews daily. It means my house gets put on the back burner. I could get others to work on it when I don’t have the chance, but that doesn’t sit well with me. So if I have to stay in this place for a little longer, so be it.
Walking to the bathroom, I turned on the hot water and stripped off my clothes before standing under the spray. Like many nights, I started calculating everything I had to do for the next day. The calls I hated but were necessary to make, the paperwork that needed to be signed, the teams I was going to send out, and now the date I’m taking Emma on. If she ends up even texting me. The thought of her had my cock rock hard already.
Knowing I shouldn’t, I grabbed my length and slowly gave it a few tugs. Rubbing my thumb over the head and leaning back as I fucked my fist. If I had any chance of keeping my hands off her tonight, I needed a release. Fucking myself faster, I placed my hand on the shower wall, bracing myself as small moans fell from my mouth.
“Fuck, Emma.” I moaned. What the hell was this woman doing to me?
My thighs tightened, small tingles developed in my lower stomach, and I moved faster, chasing my climax and emptying my balls. I sprayed the shower wall with my cum, wishing it was on Emma’s tits.
When my breathing returned to normal, I felt slightly guilty, so I quickly finished my shower and threw on a pair of sweats before walking back to the kitchen to see if I had anything to eat. Going shopping was never on my mind, and since I sucked at cooking, there normally wasn’t much in here. Opening the freezer, I saw I had one frozen meal left. It was probably freezer burned and lacked any flavor, but I knew I’d at least get something nice tonight.
Plopping it in the microwave, I grabbed my phone and went through my emails. Nothing that couldn’t wait until tomorrow. The phone vibrated in my hand, a text from a number that wasn’t saved.
Coral Gardens. 6 p.m. Bring your voice.
A smile crossed my face at the thought of her trying to tell me what to do. Seems like Little Fighter here needs to know that she doesn’t call the shots.
I’ll think about it. I replied and set the phone down.
Taking my food out of the microwave, I tossed it on the counter and peeled off the film. It looked fucking gross, but I also wasn’t picky, so I guess this would have to do. Eating as much as I could, I threw the trash away, picked up my phone, and headed for my bedroom.
I climbed into bed and looked up the one account I had become obsessed with looking at. Emma_Designs. For the most part, it had a lot to do with her job. She’d post colors that go together, floor plans, and decorations. But every once in a while, she shares a little of her life. Tonight happened to be that night. She was posing in front of some restaurant, her hair curled perfectly and wearing a short dress that showed off all her curves. She was laughing at something someone had said.
Zooming in, I tried to look at the reflection through the windows, but I couldn’t tell who was taking the picture or if it was new. She was supposed to be going out with me, and now she looked like that? How many dates does she go on? But when I looked at the caption, I saw it was an old picture. ‘ Remembering the time I used to hide my Dexcom in pictures. Here’s your sign to not do that.’ Scanning it, I barely noticed the Dexcom on her right arm. It was angled to the side and almost hidden, obviously done on purpose. I never noticed her having one while at work.
Scrolling down her feed, I looked for another picture of her. Sure enough, this time she had the patch on her stomach with something else on the other side and clipped to her pants. Only this time she was pointing to it while holding her shirt up and a candy bar in her hand.
How the hell did I miss this the first time I looked at her account?
Looking through the comments, everyone was saying how much she inspired them, and that’s when I saw the caption. Yes, here I am with a chocolate bar filled with sugar. Want to know why? Because eating a ‘bad’ diet isn’t how I got diabetes. Type one is not caused that way. My body does not produce insulin. So sometimes I need that sugar and fast. I have an insulin pump, but some days you want that chocolate, and that’s okay. You’re allowed to enjoy the good things in life. Adjust, and always keep an eye on your sugar. Thanks to my Dexcom, I always know when I need a boost or if there is a problem with my pump. Thanks to my pump, I know my body is getting the insulin I need. Neither is foolproof, and I still take finger pricks when I feel like something might be off, but both things keep me alive. To know more about type one and what it’s like day to day, you can follow me at Emma_Needs_Insulin.
I instantly clicked the link and went and read every single post. From when she got diagnosed, stories about how her mom never cared and her brother was the one who made sure she was taken care of. The things she does to help and how she manages to keep herself healthy while working a full-time job that has her on the go a lot of times.
If I learned anything, it was that she was a badass and a fighter. Everything I already knew about her. As I was finishing my light stalking, she texted me back.
Think about coming, or think about bringing your voice?
Okay, maybe I should have been more clear on that. My voice. I’ll be there.
See you then, Grumpy.
Grumpy? I might just ruin her after all.
* * *
The place she picked wasn’t too far from where I lived and wasn’t the fanciest, so I threw on a black t-shirt and some dark jeans. It wasn’t like I knew what to wear to a date, or more so a date that won’t end in sex, so I guess this would have to do. Grabbing all my stuff, I headed to my car and made my way to the restaurant. I was a little early but figured that would be better than being on time since I had a good feeling innocent little Emma would also be here early.
When I stepped inside the cozy restaurant that was covered in way too many plants, I found that I was right when I saw Emma out of the corner of my eye. Her back was to me, but I could spot that red hair anywhere.
“You can sit anywhere you would like.” A waitress told me as she was bringing water to someone.
Giving her a smile, I walked to the table Emma was at and lightly brushed her arm.
“Shit!” She jumped, throwing her hand over her chest. “You scared me.”
“My bad.” I chuckled, sitting down in front of her.
“Why did you ask me on this date?”
Well, okay, then. Right to it. “Should I have not?”
“You don’t seem to like me very much,” she pointed out.
“That’s just how I am. I like you.”
“You mean you like to sleep around.”
“Emma,” I warned.
“I’m not judging you. I do the same.”
Fucking. Hell. The thought of her sleeping with someone else shouldn’t make me as angry as it does. “Do I sleep around? Yes. But did I ask you here to sleep with you? No.”
“Not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not.”
“Take it how you see fit.” I smirked.
She opened her mouth but quickly shut it when the waitress walked up to us and asked for our drink orders. She ordered water, so I followed her lead. Looking more closely at her, she looked so different than when we’re at work. More relaxed. More herself. She was wearing a flowy summer dress, her hair was loosely curled, and fuck, those freckles.
“Are you going to keep staring at me?” She raised her eyebrow.
“You’re beautiful.”
Her cheeks instantly turned red as she lowered her head. “Thank you.”
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Yes, why?”
“I don’t want you almost passing out on me again.” I admitted.
“It was one time.” She rolled her eyes in her bratty little way that I was slowly becoming addicted to.
“One time too many.”
“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
“Doesn’t mean you should have to.”
“Calm down, Grumpy.”
“Okay, Little Fighter.” I challenged her.
Once again, the waitress saved us from whatever bratty comment Emma was about to give me. She ordered a salad, while I ordered a steak. It was overpriced for a place like this and would probably be overcooked, but it had to be better than the shitty frozen meal I made earlier. Plus, I didn’t have to cook it. As we waited for our food, Emma rolled her eyes at my choice and commented on how, of course, I ordered the most expensive thing on the menu. I shrugged it off, not really caring. After spending all day doing manual labor, I was hungry and going to eat.
“So you’re telling me you never treat yourself?” I replied.
“Oh, I do. But not at places like this where they’d just fuck up my order.”
“You picked this place!” I laughed.
“It’s close to where I live. In case you got weird on me, I could make a quick escape.”
“I think I proved that I would take care of you.” I’m not sure why I said that or why I was so fast to answer with that. Maybe I was trying to impress her, or maybe I just wanted to make sure she knew I meant that. Either way, the words were out before I could stop them.
“You brought your voice tonight. I’m not sure I’ve heard you talk so much.” She laughed.
“You’re easy to talk to.”
“Why do you act like an asshole all the time?”
“So many questions tonight.” I muttered.
“Isn’t that what dates are for?”
“I suppose. Never really been on one.”
“You have never been on a date?” She looked shocked. I’m not sure why.
“Not really, not in this way.”
“That’s because you just fuck,” she huffed.
“Correct.”
The waitress brought our food, and I think she needed a bigger tip for the way she kept saving my ass. I was failing at this completely. Emma’s face fell as she looked down on her pitiful salad.