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Chapter 4

Connor

Fuck.

Connor couldn’t believe that Luna was really back here. Not only in Valentine Bay, but sitting in Gavin’s kitchen.

Sure. Gen had been her best friend when they were kids. So it had crossed his mind more than once since Gen and Gavin had gotten together that if Luna ever came back here, she’d most likely end up at Gavin’s place at some point. It was just that the thought had always seemed more like a crazy dream than something that was actually likely.

Still. Here they were.

He didn’t know how to feel about Luna being back so he did what he usually did in that kind of situation: shoved it down. Pretended it wasn’t happening.

That was a good system, overall. It had worked for him his entire adult life, give or take an ulcer or two. He didn’t see any reason to change it now.

“Hey, Connor. Can we talk?”

Well, okay. He guessed he could see one reason to change it now– that voice floating in from the door to the shed. And the woman it belonged to.

“I’m outta here,” Gavin said, dropped the wrench he’d been holding, and walked out of the shed. Connor didn’t blame him. He didn’t know how this encounter was about to go, and he was halfway tempted to walk out himself.

Shoving down that impulse, though, felt natural. Just one more step in the long line of shoving things down.

He turned slowly, finally facing Luna straight on. His heart melted as soon as he did. Seeing her right here, really taking her in, was like stepping through the door of a time machine and coming out ten years before. He was suddenly young, and in love, and his future stretched in front of him, full of nothing but possibility. He felt like he could fly.

Then, as suddenly as he’d been transported to that simpler and happier time, all of the intervening years of pain crashed back on him like a tsunami, sweeping him up in their power.

“It’s good to see you,” he said, his voice tight. It wasn’t a lie. Technically. It was just only half of the truth.

“It’s good to see you, too,” she popped in before he’d even completely finished, her voice tumbling over his like a stream rippling over rocks in its path.

“How is your grandfather doing?” As soon as he said the words, his heart softened. That was the thing he had to remember– this wasn’t about him. It wasn’t about her. It was about her grandfather, someone that Connor looked up to and cared about.

All of the things he was feeling, he could process later. After her grandfather was– God willing– out of the woods.

Her eyes filled, and none of the tears spilled over. They just hung there, sparkling like little jewels of sadness. Just like that, he was undone. All of the pain, all of the years of absence and aching longing– they were washed away in an instant by those two tiny drops of sorrow.

Sure, all of that would probably be back. But that wasn’t what he thought about in the moment. Right then, all he could do was take two decisive steps toward her, closing the distance between them, and wrap his arms around her, holding her tightly to his chest as she trembled.

“I’m just so worried,” she breathed against the flannel of his shirt. “I’m scared.”

He stroked her hair. “I know, Luna,” he whispered into the top of her head, and then gave it a small and gentle kiss. “I know you are, baby.”

The word “baby” caught in his throat. He hadn’t said it in so long. It felt right, damn it.

She tilted her head up a little. Just enough so that he could feel her hot breath on his neck. His dick strained in his pants. He didn’t want it to– he closed his eyes and struggled against his body’s natural response.

Now wasn’t the time, and the shed certainly wasn’t the place. Not even thirty seconds ago he’d had the realization that this situation wasn’t about him. He didn’t want to go back on that by making a move on her at her most vulnerable moment. That would be a dick move, in the truest sense of the word.

Still, no matter how pure his emotional motivation was, his body had ideas of its own. And not just the one part of his body he would’ve expected to betray him at a time like this, either. It was everything– his heart, with the way it was racing. His blood, with the way it was rushing through his veins like a river. His skin, with the way it was heating up under the influence of his internal furnace.

And, soon, his brain would be boarding that train, too. He could already feel the first steps. His thinking was becoming foggy and he was having a harder time remembering why this would be a bad idea in the first place.

Oh, yeah. He was a damn goner.

She slid her hands up his chest and slipped her arms around his neck. A low groan escaped from his throat, and before he had a chance to think it through, he breathed, “Fuck.”

The word didn’t leave his mouth as one hard, syncopated syllable, though. Not like it did when he used it to curse. Instead, it was a long, low, drawn out breath. More like, “Fuuuuuuuuuck,” than the harsher alternative.

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