20
Sasha
After Conor took Liam to the stadium, Isabella woke up screaming and nothing Olivia, Josh or I did would make her stop, so I took her for a walk because the movement seems to soothe her.
If I remember right from when Liam was a baby, I would say Bella is teething.
Her cheeks are rosy, her hands are constantly in her mouth and she’s slabbering over everything.
We took a trip to the pharmacy so I could get her some medicine, teething gel and a few of those teething toys you stick in the freezer, and then we went to see Aunt Dee and Charlie at Buttons and Books.
Diane was thrilled to see her great-niece, as she always is.
She’s more like a grandmother to her than an aunt.
And she’s a great one at that. It makes me sad for Liv’s family though.
Diane is really the only grandparent Isabella has.
Josh’s mom passed away years ago and his father doesn’t really bother with them.
Olivia’s mom basically abandoned her after moving to the States and her dad is in the UK.
Since Bella was born, Liv has been trying to reach out to him more but he hasn’t made the effort to see his own granddaughter. It’s his loss.
I’m so lucky in a way that Olivia and Josh aren't. When I have kids, they’ll be blessed with two sets of grandparents since Conor and I have both of our parents. Wait… Where the fuck did that thought come from? I’m not having babies with Conor. What is wrong with me? Stupid Conor obsessed brain!
After dropping Bella home, I go back to my place.
A nap sounds heavenly right now. After barely sleeping last night, I’m gonna need all the rest I can get if I want to survive another evening with Liam’s endless energy. Yeah, a nap sounds like a good plan.
I change into some sweats and a baggy top before getting into the bed, pulling the covers up to my chin and relaxing.
The sound of the heavy traffic outside my window is calming.
I’ve lived in cities my whole life and can get to sleep better when there’s noise compared to the quiet. I’ve never really liked the quiet.
Even when I’m working, I can focus better if there’s background noise. It makes me focus on something different than the thoughts swirling through my head when the quiet takes over.
My eyes grow heavy, my breathing evens out and I’m almost asleep when my phone buzzes on the nightstand. When I see Conor’s name flash on the screen, all thoughts of sleep leave me.
Conor: Come stay with me.
Conor: Both of you. I have a spare bedroom.
Is he serious? We couldn’t do that. It’s not fair on him to take us both in for a few days. Plus, I’d probably sleep better on my lumpy couch than I would be surrounded by all things Conor. His things, his scent, him. It would be too much.
Me: We couldn’t. Thanks though :)
Conor: Why couldn’t you?
I type a reply, delete it, type again, delete it.
I’m not sure what to say. I mean, we’re friends.
Why wouldn’t we stay? I stay at Liv’s place all the time.
But Conor isn’t Liv. It’ll make things a lot more messy than they already are.
There’s undeniable tension between Conor and I and I’m scared to find out what happens when that tether finally snaps.
The more time we spend together, the closer it is to breaking.
Me: Because it would be against our rules.
Conor: Relax, Angel. It’s only sleeping.
I’ll sleep on the couch and you can take my bed.
Me: I’ll think about it.
I shouldn’t think about it. I should just say no and be done with it. But, there’s that constant nagging in my head, screaming at me to just say yes. What’s the worst that could happen?
If we do stay at his place, I won't be in his bed. I’ll happily sleep on his couch. It’s probably more comfortable than my bed anyway and I can fully stretch my legs out. Conor is a beast of a man, it’s not fair that he’d have to curl up on the sofa when my five foot frame would fit perfectly.
I will think about it. But, I’ll probably say no.
Two hours later, I’m hauling mine and Liam’s bags into Conor’s apartment. I have no self-control when it comes to this man. He called me an hour ago asking if I decided to stay at his place and somehow when I spoke the word ‘no’, it came out as a ‘yes’. So now I’m here.
We’re only staying for a few days but I feel like I have packed everything I own.
My mom always used to say ‘it’s better to come prepared than showing up with nothing’ and that’s something I’ve used in every aspect of my life.
In reality, I’ll only wear two or three of these outfits but like I said, best to be prepared!
“Are you planning on moving in?” Conor eyes my large suitcase, duffle bag and Liam’s backpack.
“Maybe. It depends on how comfortable your bed is.” I tease but that backfires when Conor’s eyes darken and he stalks towards me.
“Is that right?” He starts, his voice suddenly husky and sounding like sin.
“One look at you in my bed and I might never let you leave.” Oh fuck.
He’s in front of me now, so close that I can smell his familiar cologne.
Don’t do it, Sasha. Do not inhale. I inhale.
Dammit. I melt closer to him as his scent fills my senses and words get caught in my throat at his proximity and sex-filled eyes.
“What’s wrong, Angel? Cat got your tongue?
” He flashes me a knowing smirk before bending down and lifting all my bags with little effort.
My thighs clench involuntarily, trying to ease the ache that’s beginning to form from his devilish intent. This man is so fucking sexy and he knows it. He knows exactly what he does to me.
I clear my throat before speaking to Conor’s retreating form. “Where’s Liam?”
“He went upstairs.” Conor replies, setting my bags into his bedroom and coming back out to where my feet are rooted in place in the living room. “We’re all alone.” He says with a wicked grin.
Thankfully, Liam saunters back into Conor’s apartment about five minutes after I melted into a puddle on the floor. Conor has been flirty with me before, but something seemed to shift in him today and I have no idea why.
I have been actively avoiding him all evening. The lingering stares, lust filled eyes and seductive smirks were becoming too much. I swear by dinner I was close to jumping his bones. I think Liam being here is the only reason I didn’t. That’s a scary thought.
I make sure Liam is settled into bed because I clearly still think he’s that four-year-old boy that needs tucked in at night and not the fourteen-year-old teenager who tells me to ‘get lost’ when I try.
My bare feet pad down the hallway towards Conor’s bedroom when his door opens and I smack into his hard chest. His strong arms wrap around me, saving me from falling on my ass.
“Thanks.” I breathe out but once again, his proximity and intoxicating scent has me weak at the knees. Thank God he’s still holding me up. He doesn’t let go of me, instead, he pulls me tighter. “I just came to get my stuff.”
“It’s all yours.” He says, steading me and moving back a step.
I quickly move around him, go into his bedroom and slam the door without looking back. I didn’t meet his eyes, but I could feel his fiery gaze on me the entire time. This is getting too dangerous. Whatever is happening between us should not be happening.
I shouldn’t have said yes. Did I give him the impression that I came here for some other reason? Does he think I came over to have sex with him?
No, no. He wouldn’t. I know he told me he wanted me too that night of the party, but he had been drinking as well.
And he was probably only saying that to make me feel better about his rejection.
This is all pretend. None of it is real.
Conor’s just playing the part of my fake-boyfriend very well. Damn it, Sash, get a grip.
Pinning my ear against the door, I wait to hear his retreating footsteps before I feel safe enough to move away. It seems like forever before the familiar sound greets my ears and when it does, I finally move more into the room.
My jaw almost hits the floor as I take in my surroundings.
The last time I was in here I was almost blackout drunk.
Conor let me sleep in his bed and he slept on the couch.
Ever the gentleman. I had snuck out the next morning without taking a minute to check this place out so now is my chance.
That was over a year ago. It was the night I finally realized that I didn’t want to be with Max anymore.
If I hadn’t come to the party at Conor’s apartment, if I hadn't kissed him, I don’t know if I ever would have left Max.
It’s beautiful in here and not somewhere I would have placed Conor in, to be honest. Dark wood floors, black walls with gold accents.
It feels dramatic but also… rich and calming.
It’s surprisingly tidy for a man’s bedroom but what would I know?
Apart from the small stack of folded clothes sitting on top of one of the dressers, the place is spotless.
The biggest bed I’ve ever seen in my life sits in the center of the room by the wall. A black wooden bed frame with matching black sheets. I can only wonder what Conor’s favorite color is…
Holy shit, he even has a bath in here. I stride towards it, taking in every microscopic detail.
I run my hands along the black ceramic tub, the coolness and smoothness feeling so good against my skin.
The gold faucet at the other end adds to the luxury of the whole thing.
It’s like something you’d only ever see in the movies.
What I wouldn’t do to sink into a hot bubble bath with a good smutty romance book and the view of the city right beside me. That would be heavenly.