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He'd never openly admit it, but I knew that between rent, child support, and the cost of basic necessities, the guy was barely scraping by most days.
With a sigh, then a throat-clearing cough, he changed the subject, just as I’d thought he would. “So, what've you been up to lately?”
There weren't many people in my life I felt I could be completely honest with, but my brother was one of them.
So, I snorted, raised my eyes to the canopy of thinning leaves overhead, and said, “Oh, you know. Attending award shows, hooking up with Dylan Pierce, and wishing I were more worthy of his attention. The usual.”
Connor choked on a gulp of beer, sending a spray of suds to the ground. I smacked his back as he hacked up a lung for a moment before wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.
Then, he turned to me, eyes wide and demanding, and asked, “Are you fucking serious?”
“Yep,” I replied, popping thePand nodding.
“You're hooking up with the dude you had plastered all over your room?”
“Hooked up. Past tense,” I corrected him with a point of my finger. “I told him we were done last week.”
Connor's beer bottle hit the plywood platform with a loud thunk, and his hands lay over his face. “Holy shit,” he muttered as his palms slid back to his thighs. “I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess Mom and Dad had no idea.”
“They knew I was seeing him in some capacity. But they had no idea our relationship, or whatever it was, revolved entirely around sex,” I confessed. Even after months had passed since that night in his hotel room, I still couldn't believe it had happened at all. None of it.
Connor blew out a deep breath, puffing his cheeks out while his eyes widened with his own bout of disbelief. “I … fuck, I don't even know what to say to that,” he said, laughing incredulously. “Why the hell didn't you say anything?”
I shrugged under the weight of guilt sitting heavily on my shoulders. “I didn't know what to say. And honestly, it wasn't a great situation. I figured if I told you exactly what was going on, it would've just pissed you off.”
That stopped his laughter as he turned to me, eyes narrowed with instant suspicion and the sudden need to protect. “You're gonna elaborate, right?”
So, I did.
I told him everything, more than I'd told Tarryn. By the time I was finished, he knew about the note I’d left Dylan. He knew nobody had ever made me feel so good physically and nobody had ever made me feel so shitty and used. Not even an old high school crush, who had made me believe he was into me until he told me he could never truly be into a blind bitch like me and broke my heart. And Connor listened with a firm jaw and a stony glare, staring toward the house. Every now and then, he'd frown or shake his head, and once, he reached over to squeeze my knee. Otherwise, he was as still as stone until I was finished and one word away from crying.
“You want me to kill him?” he asked gently.
Laughing genuinely, I shook my head. “No. I don't hate him.” Sighing, I tucked my hair behind my ear and said, “I can't blame him for everything either. It’s not like I wasn’t a willing participant. It's just … I don't know … I was hoping he could be everything I wanted. I wanted the fantasy to be reality, and it just wasn’t.”
“Hmm,” he grunted, nodding slowly.
I blew out an exaggerated breath and pulled the sleeves of my sweatshirt over my chill-bitten fingers. “But now, I’m back at square one, trying to find that guy who can give me everything I want,” I said with dramatic flourish, squinting toward the clouds.
“Nah, you know what you need?”
“What's that?”
His arm bumped against mine as he leaned into me. “You need to find your own happiness. Stop relying on some … guy to marry and support you and all that shit. You're smart, and you're gorgeous, so you fuckin' know the right guy's gonna come along eventually. But you gotta learn how to be good on your own ‘cause, if you’re not, no dude on the planet is gonna give you everything you want.”
Every word pelted against my skin like raindrops, soaking my clothes and soul until I was drenched in a truth I should've realized sooner. I stared at the blur of grass and dirt, biting my lip as I listened. He was right. Of course he was. But it was easier said than done, and after knowing me his entire life, he had to know it.
“I don't even know what the hell to do though,” I said.
“Anything you want!” Connor laughed, shaking his head like I had some nerve, saying something so ridiculous. “God, Lenny. All you have is fuckin' time. Use it. Find something you like to do and make it your life. I mean, you've always liked writing your little stories, right?”
It was true. I spent more time in my room, listening to music and writing down my fantasies, than anything else. But I had never considered it something I could turn into a living. They were hobbies, nothing more than that.
“Yeah, but if you're gonna suggest I write a book, don't. Books take a lot of fucking time, and—”
“Okay, and what else are you doing? The time is passing anyway, Lenny. You might as well spend it doing something you at least enjoy,” he replied, snatching my forgotten beer away and downing it. “I mean, aside from screwing rock stars.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
