19. Jess #2
He chuckles. “Vanilla milkshakes have that effect on you often?”
“What can I say? I’m a lightweight.”
“In that case, you’re cute when you drink too much.” Conor smiles.
We walk up the— our —driveway together, his hand on my arm, and I swear I see the curtains moving in Miss-Busybody-Next-Door’s window. I’m sure my phone will start blowing up any minute, Courtney texting me madly to know what’s happening with Conor and I right now.
Which is probably nothing. Nothing is going to happen.
But, regardless, I plan to keep her guessing until tomorrow, at least. Serves her right for those naughty assumptions I know she’s making.
Because nothing’s happening.
Right?
Conor opens the front door and gestures for me to go inside. “After you.”
We stand in the entryway looking at each other. He’s close enough that I can smell the clean scent of his shirt. Close enough that I can hear him breathing. Close enough that I’m sure he can literally see my heart pounding through my t-shirt.
Every inch of my skin is begging to be touched by him. So much so, I’m almost reconsidering my stance against a roommates-with-benefits situation.
No!
BAD Jess.
“So, usually, I walk a girl to her front door after a first date.” Conor shoots me this sexy, lopsided grin and I could swear my ovaries scream aloud at me. “But, since we both live on the other side of the front door, maybe I can walk you to your bedroom door.”
OH MY GOSH. This is it. He’s going to stick some moves on me, and I’ll be helpless to his charms.
He reaches a hand towards me, and I jump with anticipation. Then, I realize he’s indicating for me to hold his hand. I giggle a little too loudly, rattled, but he just keeps smiling that amused, sexy smile.
We walk up the hallway. Slowly.
My mind is in overdrive. How on earth can I tell him that I’m not into casual stuff? That I’m not that girl? That... maybe he actually likes a very different sort of girl than me.
Before I can blurt out any of my jumbled thoughts, we reach Aiden’s bedroom door (yes I’m still sleeping there). Conor faces me and gently disentangles his hand from mine. “I had a really nice time tonight.”
“You too.” I clap a hand over my mouth. “Uh, I mean, um—me too.”
“Goodnight, Jess.” Conor half-smiles, then leans forward. My mind goes blank with desire. I want nothing more in the world than for him to kiss me right now.
And, this is it.
It’s finally happening.
My pulse picks up and my skin flushes.
He grazes his lips against mine for one, heartstopping second. Fire blazes through my body at the sensation of his mouth on mine.
But, instead of the deep, passionate kiss I’d built up in my head—where I grab him and pull him closer—he steps back.
Smiles knowingly, like he can hear every one of my embarrassing thoughts.
Then, he turns and leaves, shutting his bedroom door behind him.
Leaving me standing alone in the hallway, stunned and craving more.
I stumble into Aiden’s bedroom, stars and butterflies spinning in a halo around my head. My entire body feels like Jell-O. I touch my fingers to my lips, replaying the painfully short-lived kiss.
I want more. More kissing. More time with Conor. More everything with Conor.
But, he respected me enough to treat me like a princess on the first date—from the beautiful restaurant, to the intimate conversation, to the most chaste, gentlemanly kiss. A kiss that was only a split-second long, but somehow felt more sensual than a heated makeout session.
That is how my being responds to Conor Brady, apparently. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced with any other man. And, it appears that the sweet, sensitive, sexy guy I’m falling for is not the player I thought he was.
Because it’s true, I’m well and truly falling for Conor Brady. Hook, line and sinker.
My phone lights up on the bed next to me, and I reach for it, suddenly all too eager to tell Courtney everything.
But, it’s not Courtney.
Conor: Hi
My heart flutters wildly and the goofiest smile possible spreads across my face.
Jess: Hi back
Conor: I’m just checking you got home safe.
I laugh out loud. Maybe he’s not a player, but he’s definitely a charmer.
Jess: I did, thank you. And, isn’t there some rule where you wait three days before texting someone after a date?
From down the hallway, I swear I hear him laughing, too. My phone lights up again a beat later.
Conor: Yes. But you’re worth breaking the rules for.
Jess: Oh please. If you were a real rule breaker, you would have let me pay for dinner.
We’d argued over the bill until Conor grabbed it, put down his credit card and sent the waiter off with it. Effectively putting an end to my insistence that we at least split it. Johnny always wanted us to go Dutch—which I didn’t mind, per se, as I can pay my own way.
But, in saying that, there was something really nice about Conor’s persistence, saying that paying for dinner was the least he could do to thank me for helping him with the house. Even though we both know he’s paying me for that, too.
Conor: That’s one rule I always follow. Non negotiable. Now that’s established... Are you up for letting me pay for dinner again sometime?
My breath catches and my skin grows warm. If I was in one of those kids’ cartoons from the 90s, my eyes would be heart-shaped.
Jess: Conor Brady. Are you asking me on a second date?
His reply comes through less than a minute later.
Conor: I am.
I fist my hand in the bedspread in victorious joy to avoid squealing out loud. A second date!
Be cool Jess, be cool.
Jess: I think I can fit you into my very busy and important schedule.
Conor: I’m glad to hear that.
Conor: Oh, and Jess?
Jess: Yeah?
Conor: I don’t kiss like that on the second date.
OH. MY. GOSH.
His words send a fresh flame of fire through my body, and my only coherent thought is that this second date cannot come fast enough.