10. Chapter 10
Grace
“Wait, so you’re, like, his girlfriend now?” Mariah wasn’t even helping anymore; she was just staring at me while I stumbled through bottles and boxes to stock the cart with essentials.
“Yeah. Well…no. I mean, kind of? Maybe? I think I just like him.” It was the question of the day, really. What was this thing with Connor and me? I mean, it was fun and all, but what did it mean?
Mariah nodded and guffawed. “Oh, okay. That’s a clear answer.” She rolled her eyes, checking over the cart before she opened the laptop on top of it amongst the sterile wipes and bandages.
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you.” I sighed. Sometimes, I wished I had met a less nosey best friend. I got interrogated by my family enough as it was, but when Mariah joined, it turned relentless.
“I want you to tell me how you let this man kidnap you from a date with a maybe rich Italian dude and sneak you into the ballet, finger fuck you during Beethoven’s Ninth, leave you smiling like that, and you still aren’t his girlfriend.
” She rested her hands on her hips. “Either he’s terrible with his hands, or you just don’t want to admit you might have a boyfriend. ”
She pushed past me with the cart, heading for the first room in the wing. “Look, I don’t really know what it is, okay? Can we maybe just drop it? Talk about it later?”
“Yeah, sure. We can drop it,” she said, pushing the door open. There was no way she was going to drop it. I knew Mariah better than that. She was going to continue to bring it up every second she could. “Hi, Bev!” Mariah looked over her shoulder and smirked at me as she greeted the patient.
“Oh, hi, sweetheart.” Mrs. Holiday patted Mariah’s arm before holding her own out so we could take her blood pressure. Mariah wrapped the cuff around her arm while I took her temperature. “How are you girls?”
Mariah looked at me. “We’re really good—some of us better than others.” I hummed my agreement, narrowing my eyes at my best friend. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel older by the day, but at least my tits are still above my knees. You know how it goes.” Mrs. Holiday cackled at her own joke, lifting her breasts and letting them drop back down. I couldn’t fight the small laugh that rolled from my chest.
When she stopped laughing, we checked her vitals, making note of her higher-than-usual blood pressure but positive-as-always attitude.
“So does he have commitment issues or something?” Mariah asked, not skipping a beat while she wrapped the blood pressure cuff and tucked it back in the slot on the cart.
“What?” My eyes widened, and I looked at Mrs. Holiday in false hope she hadn’t heard Mariah’s comment.
“Is that why you’re not his girlfriend?” I should’ve known better than to think Mariah wouldn’t push for every detail on something she had this much interest in. I never should’ve told her about the ballet. I sighed when Mrs. Holiday’s eyes widened, the interest on her face undeniable.
I pursed my lips and glared at her. “No. He called me his,” I said quietly.
“I mean, that sounds pretty girlfriend to me!” Mariah was celebrating as if she were the one dating the totally-hot-enough-for-the-trouble-I-was-going-to-be-in man. “Don’t you think, Bev?”
Mrs. Holiday nodded like she was part of the full conversation and knew every detail. “Does this mean you won’t let me give you my nephew’s number after all?”
I smiled softly. “I already told you, Mrs. Holiday. He doesn’t really sound like he’s my type.” And suddenly, my type looked an awful lot like trouble.
“He really is a hero, and not one of those fake ones who hasn’t ever done anything real. He saves people! And he’s handsome. He needs a beautiful girl like you.” She grabbed my hand, holding it like it would change my mind if she held on tightly enough.
I gently grabbed her hand, half-patting it and guiding it away from mine like I had practiced so many times since becoming a nurse. “That’s so sweet of you, but I am kind of seeing someone.”
“So you are his girlfriend then!” Mariah shouted like she had an a-ha moment she had to share with everyone. I could feel my cheeks getting warmer with embarrassment.
“Well, I can still try and change your mind,” Beverly said while Mariah helped her get comfortable again.
I nodded but grabbed the cart, eager to make a swift exit. “Have a good afternoon, Beverly.” Then, I slipped through the door and snuck away. I thought I would have made it further down the hall before Mariah snuck out behind me.
“Why are you avoiding talking about it?” she asked, catching up to me.
She twisted her face with suspicion, even though she should be the least suspicious of the entire situation.
Her brothers weren’t going to lose their minds the second they found out who he was.
I stopped, spinning toward her and half lifting my arms like I was shrugging.
“Maybe because I’m tired of everyone being so involved in my damn love life,” I snapped. Mariah leaned back, shocked by the outburst. She shouldn’t be. “Maybe we’re just having fun, and maybe I’m okay with that!”
Mariah sighed, holding her hands up in surrender. “Do you really like this guy?”
Did I? I thought about the butterflies that choked me anytime he was around, the way I had never seen eyes like his before.
Then, I thought about the way he cradled my chin in his hand or strummed an orgasm from me like he was part of the orchestra.
“Yeah, I think I do,” I said, feeling the blush in my cheeks warm my neck and chest.
“And he treats you well?” The defensive side of her started to peek through, and I bit back a laugh.
“He does.” I nodded, biting my lip but still failing to prevent the smile that stretched across my face. “He’s nice.” So far.
Mariah cocked her head to the side. “I don’t mean like he’s good with his hands and makes you come really hard. Is he nice to you? Does he treat you like he should treat my best friend?” She crossed her arms over her chest, preparing herself to threaten a man who wasn’t even standing here with us.
I thought about the way Connor opened the car door, the gentle way he pressed his hand against my lower back to lead me through a crowd, whether we were walking through the restaurant or sneaking in the basement of the theater.
Then, I remembered the way I felt safe, even though he was probably dangerous.
My thoughts relaxed when Connor was there in a way my mind wasn’t used to relaxing.
When I smiled, Mariah smiled too, and I nodded.
“Yeah, I think he’s a good one.” And now, I just wanted to see him.
“And if he’s not?” Her glare was more forced, like she was trying to hide her amusement—or her excitement.
I nudged her with my elbow. “Then you can help me hide the body.”
“Why don’t you ask your brothers?” She laughed, aware my brothers were the type of men you didn’t want to piss off.
I gulped, already shuddering under the volume Giaco’s voice would rise to when he found out about Connor. “Because once they find out who he is, they’re going to want to bury me with him.”
“You think so?”
I had been to enough funerals to know my brothers were ruthless, no matter the relation.
There was a cloud of dread that hung over me at the idea of them finding out about Connor, but thinking about seeing him again sent a wave of warmth through my body that made me throw caution to the wind, even if the anxiety clung to it in the breeze. “I know so.”