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Will Connor only ever be mine when the moon is out?
I won’t stand for this. I wanted to be together because I like him, not because I was happy to only be trotted out when he needed me.
Closing out of the app on my phone with a frustrated sound, I face plant into my ruffled purple bedspread, letting the darkness swallow me. Once I grant myself a few minutes to wallow, I get up and get my laptop from the desk. As I return to the bed, the positive posters on my wall remind me of my outlook. I turn my back on them and hunch my shoulders as I sink to the floor, opening the laptop.
“I’m not invisible.”
Before I’ve finished typing the address to my blog, I stop. It doesn’t feel right. The comments, or even the old emails from Henry aren’t what I want right now. It’s only a feeble bandage; it won’t cure the wound.
I want Connor instead of my secret coping habit.
With a deflated exhale, I lean my head against the side of my mattress. What I want is in Connor’s pool house, where we hid away from the world together under the moonlight. Where I felt free to be my true self, no more secret folders, no more splitting myself between who I should be and who I wish I was.
“Are you a clingy girl?” I ask myself, reasoning that I should leave this alone and do my own thing. I don’t need him to entertain myself. With another sigh, I shake my head. “But you deserve the universe, so why settle when it doesn’t make you feel good?”
Maybe this is one of those things Connor doesn’t know to think about. He did make a point about only being with girls as hookup partners before. We’re both tripping our way through being in a relationship, the first real one for both of us.
If I don’t tell him, he won’t know that this made me doubt everything.
After arguing with myself some more, I change out of the ratty old sweats I’ve been in all day into a stretchy jumpsuit with a pink flower print and sneak out of the house. I avoid Mom by the skin of my teeth as she’s leaving through the garage door with sunglasses on. Once she’s gone, I creep around the corner and slip out the back door with my phone and the key Connor gave me, cutting across our yard into his.
My heart races as I use the key to get in. Any second I’m ready for someone to ask what I’m doing in the Bishop’s yard without an invitation.
Once inside, I leave my key by the door and go to the full-length mirror. It still smells like Connor in here. I lick my lips and sit down in front of the mirror with my legs to the side in a sensual pose, feeling the pinup vibe I have going on right now. I allow one of my straps to slip off my shoulder and angle my boobs forward.
After snapping a few pics, I pick one and send it to him. No caption. It doesn’t need one. He’ll know where I am.
It doesn’t take Connor long to arrive. The door squeals when he opens it in a rush. I haven’t moved from my spot by the mirror, and I watch him through the reflection, pressing my fingers to the glass.
“You came,” I murmur.
“Did you think I wouldn’t when you sent this?” He waves his phone and tosses it on the bed as he crosses the room to me. On the way he loses his black muscle shirt, leaving him in only his short swimsuit and a perfect view of the sculpted indents in his hips. “Shit, I’ve been thinking about you all day. About thi
s.”
He pulls me to my feet and swoops in for a kiss that leaves me breathless. His skin is warm from an afternoon in the sun.
Putting my hand on his chest, I lean back from his kiss. “You know, I opened Instagram to see if my friend Maisy had posted, but I saw the party at the lake instead.”
“Yeah?” Connor is distracted, kissing his way down my neck. He hums against my heated skin and makes me shudder.
“Well, I was surprised to see there was a party. That you were there.” My breath hitches when he finds a sensitive spot. “And…the girl you were with in the pictures I saw.”
Connor stills. “What girl?”
“Bailey? She’s on the dance squad.” I suck my bottom lip into my mouth as he stares at me. “I’m not the girl you were with at the lake.”
“No. You’re not.”
A sound rumbles in Connor’s chest as he wraps me in his arms, picking me up. I squeal when he lifts me off the ground, surprised by his strength. He crosses the room and deposits me on the bed. Another growl leaves him while he fumbles with my jumpsuit.
“Always with the complicated outfits,” he mutters, figuring out he needs to yank down the straps.
Once he has me down to my bra and underwear, he descends on the birthmark on my thigh, sucking on it until I’m pretty sure I’ll have a hickey. I like that, the idea of him branding my skin with his marks. Proof that we had this moment.
Lifting his head, he pins me with his gray eyes. “If I wanted that chick, I wouldn’t be here. Why would I want her when I only want a little beam of sunshine who drives me fucking crazy?” He keeps his gaze locked with mine as he licks my birthmark. “You’re who I’m with. No other girl matters to me. Only you, baby.”
My fingers claw at the bedding, a hazy fog of desire clouding my head. But this is important and I have to make sure he understands.
