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“They’re starting to notice,” a woman hisses.
“You promised.” That’s a man’s deeper voice, angry. “What do you expect me to do when I see you kissing him?”
“He’s my husband. I’m still married to him.”
Connor tenses, glancing over his shoulder. I can’t see past him. He focuses on me once more with a mix of possessive protectiveness.
“I can’t deal with this right now. It’s already a risk to come in here. We’ll talk about this at home. Do not mess this up for me, Damien.”
My eyes widen as Connor steps closer, plastering his body against mine. “Shh.”
The door slams. I don’t dare breathe. Another piece of the Connor Bishop puzzle slots into place.
He cups my face, staring at me with resignation. “Let’s get back out there.”
“We’re not going to talk about that bomb? Are you okay?” I wrap my fingers around his wrist. “Did you know?”
He’s quiet for a minute. “I knew. Come on.”
We emerge from the coatroom and I stop by the bathroom to check my makeup and cool off from the aftershocks of the earth-shattering orgasm he gave me. As I leave the bathroom, I freeze.
Connor watches me, leaning against the opposite wall. His hair is fixed, my lipstick wiped from his face. Without breaking eye contact, he pats his pocket, where he stuffed my panties.
“Get through the rest of the night and you’ll get them back.”
“Connor,” I hiss. “Are you serious?”
He pops off the wall from his slouch and smirks as he closes the distance between us. He puts his lips by my ear and murmurs, “Be a good girl and I’ll do that thing you like again.”
Too flustered to respond, I spend the rest of the evening stewing on what we overheard in the coatroom with a million questions running through my head.
Nineteen
Thea
At the end of the night, Connor walks me to my front door.
Principal Bishop has already gone into their house. Connor’s mom and Damien rode in a different SUV, getting away with their secret without suspicion because he’s her right-hand man. I can’t believe what happened tonight, what we heard them arguing about.
After all my theorizing, I’ve finally worked out why he was forced to bring a fake girlfriend. I’m part of the elaborate distraction to further hide what Mrs. Bishop has been doing. Sadness pangs in my chest. The truth is worse than all the wacky reasons I thought up.
Connor brushes his knuckles over my cheek. Those intense gray eyes trap me in their hypnotic hold.
“Goodnight,” Connor murmurs.
“Bye,” I call as he walks away. A second later, I realize he still has my panties in his pocket. “Con—Damn it.”
He’s disappeared.
Unlocking the door, I slip inside. Constantine greets me, his whole hind end in motion as he tries to wag his tail nub. He dances around me in his excitement.
“Okay, okay. Come on, I’ll let you out.” I pat his head as I pass by him, kicking off my heels on the way to the back door and sighing in sweet relief as my sore bare feet hit the cool kitchen tile.
So many thoughts swirl through my mind.
On one hand, the girl I hide in my secret folder came out and it was overwhelming…and exhilarating.
I’m not ready to do it again unless Connor and I talk about our relationship, but I did like it. I do want more. Is it messed up that the boy who’s been my bully for so long is the same one who gave me my first kiss and so many other firsts? Maybe, but I’m not going to psychoanalyze myself.
