And if I抦 being honest, I might not be much better.
Because when I try to fix it, I end up saying, 揑 would love to give you a ride, in my car.?
And now a litany of X-rated Dr. Seuss lines are rolling through my head.
On a train, on a plane, in a box, beside a stuffed fox桰 would ride Violet here or there I would ride her anywhere.
I ball my napkin in my fist.
揑 would love to give you a ride to the wedding, Vi. I mean . . . if that抯 okay with you.?
*
Violet
Is that okay with me?
Is that okay with me?
Is he joking?
He might as well have asked me if I抦 okay with my deepest, wettest, bestest, fantasy coming to life before my eyes.
揧eah,?I manage to reply in a slightly squeaky, but still casual tone. 揑抦 okay with it. That抎 be . . . good.?
I can抰 let go of something Callie said to me last week. About how Connor hasn抰 had any luck dating. About how he抯 not the kind of man who抯 meant to be alone.
That he needs someone.
Why can抰 that someone be me?
What if Connor did see me clearly梐nd he liked what he saw?
Stranger things have happened. The Pentagon announcing UFOs are real and no one caring, Kanye running for president . . . people actually liking bubble tea.
And we抮e talking about a wedding here. An outdoor lakeside wedding surrounded by candles and the soft glow of string lights, and dancing and warm, fuzzy love songs.
It抯 the Mount Rushmore of romance!
揅ool.?Connor smiles, deep and real.
For the first time I notice the perfect, lickable dimple on his left cheek. And my head goes so light I almost fall out of my chair.
Eating lunch after this is simply not possible. So I stand up, ready to make my way to the trash bin in the front of the square column behind me to dump my tray.
揝o we抣l work out the details later??Connor asks. 揈xchange numbers and what time I抣l pick you up and all that??
揧eah.?I slide my chair back carefully梠ut of tripping range. 揟hat sounds perfect.?
I force my voice to be steady梩o not betray the all-caps-worthy elation bubbling through me because I HAVE A FREAKING DATE WITH CONNOR DANIELS!!
I抣l scream and jump around about it later, in the privacy of my own home梐s decorum demands.
Right now, I need to be calm. Dignified. Alluring with a hint of mystery and sophisticated detachment. All I have to do is walk out of the room. Glide away and make a smooth, polished exit.
I can do this. I抳e been walking almost my whole life . . . I抦 a pro.
揝o . . .?I inch back carefully, holding my tray while keeping eye contact with him for as long as possible. Connor has great eyes. 揑抣l talk to you later.?
揧eah.?He nods warmly. 揑抣l see you later.?
And then I proceed to turn around . . . and walk right into the motherfucking wall.
Forehead first.
Catching the sharp, ninety-degree corner with my face.
The only thing louder than the contents of my tray clattering to the ground is the sound of three deep male voices speaking in unified cringe behind me.
揝hit.?
揙uch.?
揟hat抯 gonna leave a mark.?
I bounce backward, propelled by the sudden stoppage of my previous forward momentum. Pain explodes in my head梑ut it抯 drowned out by the absolute humiliation that pounds through me with every beat of my horrified heart.
Then Connor is there梤ight beside me, a heavy, steadying hand on my shoulder.
揂re you okay??
I evade, backing away from him with my palm covering half my face, doing my best to act like what just happened totally didn抰。
揊ine桰抦 completely fine.?
It抯 a damn, filthy lie. But I throw in a hearty laugh to conceal the pulsing in my skull and the mortification shriveling my heart into a dried prune.
揧ou hit the wall pretty hard,?Connor says, moving nearer, looking closer.
I retreat another step.
揑抦 good. All good. Everything抯 good.?
P.S.桰抦 bleeding.
My palm is slippery with the warm life-liquid, because head wounds are always so dramatic when it comes to the bloodletting. Fucking divas.
Connor notices the blood梚t抯 kind of hard to miss with the way it抯 now seeping down the bridge of my nose and all.
揘o, you抮e not.?His strong brow dips low with concern, and his voice slips into that commanding doctor tone that says refusal is not an option. It never fails to make him exponentially hotter. 揑 need to look at that. Right now. Come on, let抯 go.?
And that is how I end up flat on my back with Connor Daniels above me.
Not in any way I抳e dreamed or fantasized about梑ut, I抣l take what I can get.
We抮e in an exam room, I抦 on a gurney and he抯 seated behind my head. The lights are off and it could be kind of romantic . . . if it weren抰 for the shining spotlight aimed directly at my face, singeing my retinas and probably putting every line and imperfection on full display.
But I抦 not going to let that yuck my yum.
Instead, I抦 going to bask in the yum梔rown in it. And allow myself to enjoy having Connor all to myself. His undivided attention, the feel of his touch on my skin . . . latex covered though it may be . . . and the closeness of the two of us alone in a room together.
揑f it抯 any consolation,?Connor says, 搕hat wall came out of nowhere. You never had a chance.?
God, he抯 adorable. Without even trying. It抯 always fascinated me that he抯 a man that can go from rivetingly sexy one minute to womb-achingly sweet the next. I don抰 know how he does it桰抦 just grateful I get to be in his orbit when he does.
揟hat makes me feel so much better,?I reply.
揟hat抯 what I do.?
In my peripheral, I see the business end of a Novocain syringe in his hand.
揓ust a little prick,?he warns.
I close my eyes, joking, 揟hat抯 what she said.?
Connor抯 chuckle floats between us.
揘ot to me,?he teases back.
Every inch of my skin tingles and my palms grow damp, because . . . is he flirting with me? I think he抯 flirting with me. Or it抯 possible I hit my head a lot harder than I thought.
The pinch of the needle bites into my skin and I gasp at the sting.
揝orry,?he says in rough, regretful tone.
揑t抯 okay.?
And then . . . brace yourself . . . Connor Daniels blows on me.
And I almost orgasm on the spot.
The soft wisp of his breath is cool and clean with a faint hint of mint. It soothes the hurt of my forehead and makes me ache deliciously everywhere else. The muscles in my lower stomach clench and throb in time with my pounding heartbeat, and a little moan slips out that I can抰 contain.
揥hat was that??Connor asks.
I wet my dry lips, fidgeting my hips and crossing my ankles. This moment will live in infamy in my masturbation fantasies from now until the end of time.
揘othing,?I抦 able to manage shakily.
We抮e both silent after that梠ur hushed breaths the only sound梐s Connor closes my wound with steady hands and smooth strokes and an unwavering, intense gaze.
In the immortal words of Old Rose from Titanic, it抯 the most erotic moment of my life.
I just can抰 tell if that抯 fantastic or sad.
When he抯 finished, he looks down at me. There抯 a tenderness in his eyes that fills me with liquid warmth from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
揧ou good??he asks.
揜ight as rain.?Connor helps me into a sitting position, turning me so my legs dangle over the side of the gurney. I steal a glance at my reflection in the silver metal of the spot lamp. 揚retty nice work, big guy. You could join the sewing circle條et me know if you抮e interested and I抣l hook you up.?