Page 25 of Can’t Say No

Has he always been this tall?

Gently, he takes the phone from my hand.

“Not everything has to be a contractual obligation.”

There’s that gravelly voice again. And his hand still cupping my elbow. The faint shadow of stubble along his jaw.

Him.

My voice comes out barely above a whisper, caught up in all that is Connor Majors.

“Thanks.” We linger there for a moment too long before he steps back, and I miss the contact immediately.

“We probably should go over it, though,” He says, turning back to the counter. “I signed the paperwork this morning, so I get the big picture, but I need some clarification on your expectations. Like, are we a PDA kind of couple? Weekly date nights? Should I post on my socials, too? Or can I keep my accounts private?”

His back is to me again as he chops potatoes. It feels so domestic, so intimate to have him here, filling the silence of this big, empty house.

My heart might actually explode.

More wine. That’s the only solution.

I clear my throat as I cross the kitchen for another bottle. “I’m not big on PDA. We just need enough to sell it, make the students think it’s real, too.”

Connor nods slowly. “Got it.”

I pour myself another glass and settle onto a barstool at the island.

“I’m sorry about all of it,” I say quietly. “I know it’s dumb. It’s…” I search for the right word at the bottom of my glass.

It isn’t there.

“It’s gotten so complicated. Playing the part used to be easy, but now…” I let my words trail off again, opting for a long sip instead.

Connor keeps working in silence, unbothered by my lack of clarity. He occupies himself, sliding pans into the oven, washing prep dishes, throwing scraps away. Finally, he stops across from me, leaning his forearms against the counter.

“I don’t understand the world you’re in. I don't understand why you can’t just stop if it’s stressing you out this much.” His voice is gentle, probably more gentle than I deserve. “But I do understand that you need my help. And if doing this whole pretend-couple thing takes some of that stress away, then it’s truly my pleasure to do it. Don’t thank me anymore. I’m all in.”

Fuck. Connor Majors, always a knight in shining armor.

I guess that makes me the perpetual damsel in distress.

He straightens and sticks out his hand. “I’m all in,” he repeats. “And we’re gonna have one hell of a time working together, business partner.”

I can’t help but crack a smile as I take his hand, giving it a firm shake. “Sounds good, partner.”

“Now, no more moping. And no more scrolling.” He swipes my phone off the counter like he can read my mind. “Why do you read that shit anyway? Especially when you, of all people, know it’s fake.”

I shrug, taking another long sip that goes straight to my head. “Can’t help myself. It’s my favorite form of masochism.”

Connor raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say a word. Instead, he gets back to work, plating our food before pulling up a barstool beside mine.

Unsurprisingly, it’s delicious. So good that neither of us speak until our plates are nearly clean.

“Is there anything you aren’t good at, Connor?” I use my last potato to scrape up the remaining cream sauce.

He chuckles. “Plenty, trust me. But my dad was always in the kitchen, so I didn’t really have a choice but to learn. This was nice, though,” he adds, gesturing to our empty plates. “Having someone else to cook for. Usually I have leftovers for days.”

This piques my interest. “No potential Mrs. Majors on the horizon?”