Dances with Monsters(161)

Connor leaned back in his chair and grinned. "So, what's your first move, little brother?"

Suddenly, Heath pictured a small property not far from the deli they were in. It was on a corner, across the street from the Benedum Theatre. It was a tiny, dusty little thing, but inside it held the dreams, goals and wishes of someone very close to him; someone whose happiness meant a lot to him and whom he wanted to give the world to.

Someone who, apparently, loved him.

He got to his feet. "Why don't you come with me and find out?"

***

"You sure about this, bro?"

Heath folded the sheaf of papers he'd just received carefully so as not to lose anything before he turned and looked at his brother as they walked out of the bank together. In the span of one afternoon, Heath had become a multi-millionaire, had a legal letter drafted to Carter Steele advising him to sell his gym property to one Heath Riley, and made another small property purchase. He could understand the doubt, he supposed. But instead of the doubt or skepticism he automatically expected to see there, his brother's face held a look of excited anticipation and something almost like admiration.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Heath replied, glancing away. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"No, you should," Connor said, grinning. "This is huge. You just bought your girl a dance studio. You should get married now." He burst out laughing when Heath whirled to glare at him. "Okay. Maybe not marriage yet. But you obviously love her."

Love. That word again. But instead of feeling squeamish, Heath felt curiosity and uncertainty.

"Definitely an awesome move, man," Connor was saying. "How are you gonna tell her?"

"How did you know you loved Lana?" Heath blurted out, then instantly regretted it. He sounded like some fucking twelve-year-old boy asking about a school crush. He was thirty years old; he should know better than to ask such dumb questions.

Connor looked surprised. "I just…I just knew," he said. "I had really, really strong feelings for her. I wanted to be around her all the time. I wanted to make sure she was okay before I made sure I was okay. I started picturing my future and I couldn't picture it without her. All those things." He looked at Heath curiously. "Why you askin', man?"

Heath shrugged and glanced away. "Just wondering."

"You in love with Drew?" Connor asked, then held up his hands in mock surrender when Heath shot another look at him. "I am genuinely asking, bro."

"I don't know," Heath muttered, cursing himself for ever bringing up the question. "She told me the other day—yesterday, I guess—that she loved me."

"Wow!" Connor said, impressed. "She said it first, huh? What'd you say?"

"Nothing," Heath replied, hating himself more and more as the conversation progressed.

Connor blinked at him. "Hold on. Beautiful girl tells you she loves you—you—and you don't say nothin' back?"

"I didn't know what to say," Heath said defensively. "I didn't want to say something I didn't mean."

"So you don't love her?" Connor asked in confusion. "If that's the case then you're giving a damn good impression of it."

"I just—I don't know what that feels like," Heath admitted. "I don't know what I feel."

"I can't tell you the answer to that," Connor said with a shrug. "Only you know that. I can just tell you what it looks like from the outside. And it looks to me like you're a drowning man." He grinned. "It's not so bad on this side, though. You'll see."

Heath snorted, but his brother's words echoed in his mind. Really strong feelings for her. Want to be around her all the time. Make sure she's okay. Can't picture life without her.

All of those things were true.

Heath wanted to laugh at himself and groan at the same time.





Chapter Thirty-Three


Drew went back to work on Wednesday, against her parents' wishes. And she went in a foul mood.

By now, all of Pittsburgh knew about her. Everyone who read the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette and the Pittsburgh Tribune, that is. Which was mostly everyone. The papers had been calling her nonstop and she was more curious about how in the hell they'd gotten a hold of her cell phone number than what it was they were calling to talk to her about. She refused the calls, ignored the voicemails, refused to give any interviews. She simply wanted to be left alone. So, without her input, they ran stories summarizing both her situation's reveal at Smackdown and also her testimony at the trial two days before. She was flabbergasted at how quickly supposedly "private" information traveled and how easily it was bought. It was beyond her scope of imagination as to how, by whom and from whom the information about her was sold, and frankly, why anyone even gave two shits about her. It exhausted her to even think about it. She accepted the sensationalism for what it was and sincerely hoped the interest in her and her unfortunate circumstances would die. Quickly.