Chapter 17
seventeen
. . .
WHITNEY
Winnie’s bathroom has turned into a full-scale glam operation.
Curling irons are heating up on the counter.
Dani’s makeup bag is spread open like a display case.
Ren is perched on the closed toilet lid, applying eyeliner with the calm precision of someone who has never once stabbed herself in the eye.
Winnie moves around the room in her usual competent way—half dressed, half accessorized, somehow still in charge.
And I’m standing in front of the mirror trying to pretend my mouth doesn’t still remember the taste of Connor’s.
Because it does.
It’s been less than twenty-four hours, and my body keeps replaying the kiss like it’s a highlight reel I can’t turn off.
The way he kissed me back—no hesitation, no polite testing.
The way his hands locked onto my waist like he’d been holding himself back all night and finally stopped trying.
The way I ended up on his lap like it was unavoidable.
Then the way he went rigid.
Like something pulled him out of the moment so fast I barely caught my breath.
Then he left, and I haven’t heard from him since.
So, yeah. I’m fine. Great. Totally normal.
Dani snaps her compact shut and squints at me. “Okay. What’s going on with you?”
Ren swivels. “You’ve been staring at your lips for five minutes.”
“I’m checking for symmetry with this lip liner,” I say quickly.
Winnie doesn’t look up as she searches for an earring back. “Whitney, that’s a brow pencil.”
I exhale dramatically, because if I don’t make it dramatic I might make it a feeling.
“Fine,” I say. “I kissed Connor.”
Silence, then everything all at once.
Dani gasps like she’s witnessing a crime. Ren’s mouth drops open. Winnie freezes mid-motion.
“You kissed Connor Fisk?” Dani whispers, like it’s even an offense to say out loud.
“Yes,” I say, voice firmer than I feel. “Like an adult person.”
Ren’s eyes go wide. “Was it hot?”
Dani slaps Ren’s arm. “Of course it was hot.”
Winnie finally turns, arms crossed now, expression equal parts protective and resigned. “Whitney.”
“What?” I demand, even though I know exactly what. “He was on our couch. We were gaming. He had a pet cam—”
Ren makes a choking sound. “He has a pet cam?”
“Yes,” I say, picking up a mascara wand. “For Pussy.”
Dani’s face lights up. “Stop. He bought a pet cam for the cat he ‘doesn’t own’?”
“He did,” I confirm. “And then he kissed me back like he—” I stop myself, because the rest of that sentence would be too honest. Too revealing.
Winnie’s eyes narrow. “And then?”
My throat tightens around it.
“He left,” I admit, softer. “Like immediately after.”
Ren’s expression shifts—quick and careful. “Did you do something weird?”
“No,” I say too fast. “I mean—no. He was into it. He was—” I cut myself off again, because even if this is the safest audience in the world, the vulnerability of the moment has me questioning everything.
Because it wasn’t just about the kiss. I mean it was, and then him leaving didn’t feel good, but there was something else last night that I couldn’t put my finger on. Something about the way Connor makes me feel that goes beyond wanting to make out with him and lick his abs.
I feel safe. Seen. Less like the chaotic mess everyone else tells me I am. Or maybe he’s less judgmental about it because he knows what it’s like to be messy, too. To be seen in a certain light and not be given a chance to change.
Dani’s eyes narrow. “Whit.”
I force a laugh into my voice like it’s a flotation device. Something to cling to when my self-assurance is sinking. “Maybe he panicked. Maybe he remembered he has a cat and a conscience.”
Winnie doesn’t laugh. She just watches me for a beat too long, like she’s filing something away.
“Okay,” Winnie says finally, practical. “So, what’s the plan tonight?”
My stomach dips, because my brain tries to sprint straight into worst-case scenarios again.
Before I can answer, my phone buzzes on the counter.
Connor.
All three of them clock it at the exact same time, like they’re synced.
Ren leans in. “Oh.”
Dani whispers, “Oh my god.”
Winnie’s expression goes flat. “Open it.”
I swallow and tap the screen.
Connor
I need to talk to you tonight.
Ren makes a tiny sound. Dani’s eyes widen. Winnie’s jaw tightens like she’s ready to fight him for sport.
Before anyone can offer their opinions, I shoot off a response.
At the gala?
Three dots, and then.
Connor
After.
Of course it’s after, because apparently Connor can’t do important conversations without an exit strategy.
My brain immediately starts stacking conversation topics like Jenga blocks: mistake, Rory, boundaries, me being too much—
I type anyway, because I’m not letting him be vague without consequences.
Why after?
Connor
It’s not a conversation for the public.
My chest tightens.
That line should sound romantic. Mysterious. Dangerous.
Instead, it feels like a warning label.
I stare at it for a second too long.
Dani breaks the silence first. “What does that mean?”
Ren nods, slow. “Yeah. What does that mean?”
Winnie says, very calmly, “It means you’re not spiraling. You’re getting ready. And if he says something stupid after the gala, I will personally tape his mouth shut.”
I bark a laugh before I can stop myself—relief, nerves, all of it mixed together.
Then my phone buzzes again.
Another message from Connor pops up.
Connor
Also…unfortunate update.
Please tell me Pussy is okay!
Connor
Pussy is fine.
I breathe a sigh of relief, then read his next message.
Connor
My asshole is not.
“What did he say?” Ren asks, angling to see my screen, while Dani and Winnie wave anxiously for me to spill the tea.
Before I ask, I have to know if you’re reading those messages back and regretting your life choices?
Connor
I’m regretting a lot about today. I got my asshole waxed.
“He got his asshole waxed,” I read aloud.
Silence.
Complete, stunned silence.
Then Dani makes a noise that sounds like she’s choking on air.
Ren’s eyes go huge. Winnie slowly closes her eyes like she’s counting to ten.
I stare at the screen, then look up at them. “I—”
Dani points at me, voice shaking with joy. “WHY WOULD HE TELL YOU THAT?!”
Ren whispers, reverent. “This is the funniest thing that has ever happened.”
Winnie opens her eyes and looks at me like she’s trying not to smile. “Was that part of his gala prep?”
I type with my thumb.
Excuse me, WHAT?!
Connor replies almost immediately.
Connor
Team bonding. Don’t ask.
I look up at the girls, horrified and thrilled in equal measure.
Dani claps her hands once. “Okay. Actually? That explains everything.”
“What explains what?” I ask.
Dani gestures wildly. “Men do one emotionally vulnerable thing, panic, and then go get waxed about it.”
Ren nods like this is science. “It’s a coping strategy. Like women getting their hair chopped off after a bad breakup.”
Winnie, very composed, hands me my lipstick. “Put that on. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”
I take the lipstick like it’s a mission.
Because tonight is supposed to be simple: a gala, a dress, a little mingling.
Except Connor kissed me like he meant it, then ran, and now insists we need to talk—after—and also apparently wants me to know he’s now more aerodynamic than ever.
And I can’t tell if I’m more curious or more afraid of what he’s going to say.