Page 34 of Heartstrings & Horseshoes

Jason postures like he’s going to retaliate when Reid plants a hand on each man’s chest, pushing them apart.

Reid hisses furiously, “Keep your voices down. What the fuck’s going on?”

Connor shrugs away from Reid’s barrier. Not bothering to follow Reid’s order, Connor speaks at a normal volume, unafraid. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. Your buddy over here slipped something into Delilah’s drink and now I’m going to kill him.”

I gasp. What? Why would someone spike my drink at my party, at my sister’s ranch.

“Get. Off. My. Property. You sick fuck,” Reid growls.

“You believe this kid over me? Seriously, Reid. You know I’d never do anything like that,” Jason says, unbothered.

I have no desire to stick around and see how this plays out. Izzy will understand why I have to go, especially after Reid tells her what happened. I sneak away from the testosterone cloud and jog to Izzy’s cabin. Thankfully, I chose to wear cute tennis shoes with my sundress instead of heels.

The door’s locked, so I sit in the wooden rocking chair on the covered porch and wrap my cardigan tighter around my body to ward off the evening chill. My phone’s going off like crazy. I set it on my lap and watch as the notifications pour in.

Missed Call: Studmuffin

Studmuffin: Where are you?

Reid: Are you okay?

Missed Call: Studmuffin

Studmuffin: Delilah. Where are you?

Missed Call: Sissy

Sissy: Where did you go? Are you okay?

Missed Call: Studmuffin

Livy: I’ll fucking kill that sleaze ball. Do you need a ride?

Why would Jason spike my drink? How did Connor even see Jason when he was preoccupied with his little girlfriend?

I’ll get the answer to that question sooner than later because Connor’s storming through the shadows to my hiding place.

He drops to his knees in front of the rocking chair and covers my bare knees with his warm hands.

“Don’t touch me.” My words shock me and bite Connor. I’ve never told him not to touch me. He yanks his hands back like I’ve burned him. I can’t have his hands on me right now.

It hurts being so close to him but not having him. It hurts when he touches me because it’s never in the ways I’m desperate to be touched.

I don’t even want to look at him right now.

Connor’s normally strong voice cracks under my rejection. “Doll? What’s going on?”

I turn my head away from him and stare into the black night.

From the corner of my eye, Connor wars with himself on whether to touch me again.

“Doll. Please look at me. Please. I’m not going to touch you if you don’t want me to—but you’ve got to look at me.” The agony in his voice widens the crack in my heart that’s been forming since childhood.

“I can’t do this anymore.” The admission slips from my tongue without permission.

Connor sits back on his heels, knuckles white, fisted restraining from touching me.

“I don’t understand,” he rasps. I don’t understand either, but the truth-door is open, and I can’t stop now.