22
Sasha
Saying goodbye to my little brother never gets any easier.
It feels like someone is reaching inside my chest and taking away a piece of my heart.
I hate that I don’t get to see him every day.
I feel guilty that I’ll not be there for him if he ever needs me.
Maybe I should move back home. I had thought about it after Max and I split up, but my job was here, my friends were here.
There’s not much here for me in Florida anymore.
My job is at a standstill and my apartment is on a lease so it wouldn’t be too hard leaving that behind.
Sure I have Liv, Josh and Isabella, but they’re so busy being new parents that they don’t have time to keep me company anymore.
Then there’s Conor. He has become such a big part of my life that I can’t imagine my days without him anymore. But this arrangement between us has an expiry date. Eventually it’ll end. And then what will I have?
There’s nothing tying me here anymore. Everyone’s lives are moving on. Maybe it’s time that I did too.
Conor and I walked Liam downstairs to where my parents were waiting outside the building. The goodbye is quick. Too quick. Liam hugged me tightly before climbing into the backseat of the car.
I didn’t say much to my parents. I introduced them to Conor, told them how much fun Liam had, and then watched them drive away. I just hope this whole thing has made them realize what they’re missing out on with Liam. He’s an amazing kid. If they gave him a real chance, they’d see it too.
The apartment feels strangely quiet when we walk back inside. I move to the fridge, pull out two bottles of water and toss one to Conor.
“I can't believe how good you were with him.” I say, trying to end the deafening silence. “Thank you, Conor”
He twists the lid off his bottle and takes a long drink before shrugging. “It was easy.”
“No, it wasn't."
“It was.”
“You took him out every day. You let him meet your teammates. You taught him how to skate. You didn’t have to do all that.”
He smiles. “I had fun.”
“I mean it, Conor.”
“So do I.” Something soft settles between us. “I think being on the ice really helped him.”
“I noticed that too. He was different when he came home that day. Like something had shifted in him.”
“I wasn’t sure it would help…” Conor trails off, and something changes in his expression. The easy confidence I’ve come to know slips away, replaced by nervousness I’ve never seen from him before. “But, it helps me when my head gets too loud.” He says quietly.
I frown. “Loud?” He nods. “Does that happen often?”
A humorless laugh escapes him. “More than you’d think.” He looks down at the water bottle in his hands, picking at the edge of the label with his finger. “I’ve never told anyone this. The only other person who knows is Aunt Dee.” He pauses. My chest tightens as I wait. “I have ADHD.”
For a second, I simply blink at him. And then everything clicks into place. His restless energy. The constant jokes. The way his thoughts jump from one thing to the next. The way hockey seems to settle him. The reason he calls me Angel…
“You do?” He nods without looking at me.
“I was diagnosed when I was a kid.”
“Why haven't you told anyone else?”
He lifts his shoulder in a helpless shrug. “Because I was embarrassed.”
My heart breaks a little. He sounds so… broken. “Conor.” He’s still avoiding my gaze so I go to him, crossing the kitchen and standing in front of him. “Look at me.” I take his face between my palms until his eyes lock on mine, “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“What if people look at me differently?” My chest aches for him. There’s so much uncertainty in his voice. So much raw vulnerability.
“If anyone changes the way they see you after knowing that,” I take his hand in mine, “then they don’t deserve a place in your life.” His fingers tighten around mine. “Conor, you are one of the kindest people I have ever met.”
He shakes his head. “Sash-”
“No.” I squeeze his hand tighter. “You are. You’re generous. You’d do anything for the people that you love. You make everyone around you laugh. You have got the biggest heart of anyone I know.”
His throat bobs as he tries hard to swallow. “You shouldn’t say things like that just for the sake of it, Sash.”
“I’m not saying them because I think you need to hear them.” I take a step closer. “I’m saying them because they’re true.”
Conor’s gaze searches mine, as though he’s trying to find even the smallest hint that I’m lying. He won’t. Because I’m not. I lift my hand, gently cupping his cheek. For a heartbeat, neither of us moves. Neither of us breathes.
Then, Conor’s hand slides carefully around my waist, pulling me flush against him. “You really mean it, Angel?” I can feel the rapid beat of his heart against my chest. I can feel his warmth seeping into me. I can feel everything.
“Yes.” I say in a breathy whisper. God, I wanna kiss him.
I shouldn’t want it, but I do. He was just open with me, telling me something he’s only ever told one other person.
He trusts me enough that he told me his secret and that stirs up feelings inside me that I know it shouldn’t.
It just makes all the feelings that I’ve tried to keep down bubble up to the surface, begging to be set free.
Conor presses his forehead against mine, the space between us disappearing. The vulnerability in his deep blue eyes slowly melts into something softer. Something warmer.
He’s looking at me like I’m the only person in the world.
My pulse pounds in my ears. I know what’s about to happen. I should stop it, but I don’t want to.
Conor closes the distance first. His lips find mine in a gentle kiss that quickly deepens as I melt into him. This kiss is full of everything we’ve been trying not to say. Every lingering glance. Every almost-touch. Every moment we’ve convinced ourselves means nothing.
Each kiss we have is dragging me into this thing between us deeper and deeper, but this one is more.
Suddenly, it’s like a switch has been flipped. What started as slow kisses full of so much meaning, has changed into deep hungry kisses full of need.
Conor’s hand threads through my hair, tugging gently. I moan into his mouth as his tongue brushes against mine. We haven't kissed like this since that night at the bar. It’s possessive and intoxicating and I can’t get enough. I need more.
Conor spins me around, my ass bumping into the kitchen counter and his hands slide down my body, grabbing the backs of my thighs and then lifting me onto the worktop.
I part my legs for his body to fit against mine.
We’re at the perfect height. His hardness presses against where I need to feel him the most and I moan into his mouth again.
He takes my bottom lip between his teeth, pulling gently before running his tongue along it to soothe the ache.
His lips move from mine, to my jaw, to my neck, kissing, sucking, licking every inch of skin he can find.
I arch my back, pressing my tits against his firm chest. My thighs tremble and my nipples harden as he sucks on the sensitive spot beneath my ear.
“You’re so fucking perfect, Sash.” Conor says, coming up for air before he takes my mouth again.
He can’t say things like that to me, especially when he’s devouring me like this. How am I supposed to say goodbye to him when he keeps acting like I’m the only woman in the world? You don’t have to say goodbye to him. Oh, shut up. I do have to. I’m not ready for this.
I'm dragged back to the present when Conor's hand moves from my hair, down to my shoulder and slowly moves towards my breast. Oh fuck!
That should not make me this wet. When he pinches my nipple through my clothes, I almost fold over.
Thank God I'm sitting down or I would be a messy puddle on the floor right about now.
“Fuck, Sasha, you’re beautiful.” The words settle somewhere dangerously deep inside me. Conor releases my nipple, his hand moving lower and lower. Fuck! I need him to touch me.
When his finger tips glide along the inside of my thighs, reality crashes back in. No. I can’t do this. We can’t do this.
I pull away, not because I want to, but because I have to. I shove him off me with more force than necessary, hopping off the counter and avoiding his gaze. If I look into those deep blue eyes right now I know I’ll cave and kiss him again.
Confusion flashes across his face. “Sash?”
“I…” My voice catches in my throat. “I should go.”
Conor’s eyebrows knit together. “What just happened?”
“Nothing.” I squeak out, the lie sounding terrible even to me. “I just remembered that I have to do something.”
“Sasha.”
“I’ll call you.” I grab my keys and phone from the small table by the door and hightailing it out of there as fast as I can.
My heart pounds painfully in my chest all the way to the elevator. When the doors close, I lean back against the wall, covering my face with both hands.
This is bad. Really bad. I think we’ve just crossed a line that we can never uncross.
I am so fucked.