Something Reckless(10)

“Give me my underwear back,” I grind out between my teeth.

He smirks. “Not a chance.” The lock clicks as he releases it, and then he’s gone, leaving me alone, red-faced, panty-less, and holy shit, so not done with him.

I’m not going to play his game. Hell, I’m not sure what kind of game has a girl going to a wedding reception without panties.

Sam Bradshaw’s kind of game, the slutty angel on my shoulder purrs. But I only go commando in public on my own terms, not because some cocky bastard steals my panties.

Okay, and maybe I’m too embarrassed to go back out there. Maybe I don’t want his dad to look at me and know I was the one holed up in the conference room with his son.

I sneak out a few minutes after Sam and make a beeline for the exit.

I’ve just reached the door when Connor calls my name from behind me. “Wait up a minute.”

So close.

“I don’t want a lecture,” I warn him.

“Tell me you’re not driving and I’ll have no reason to lecture you.”

Turning, I see that he has no clue I was with Sam. I shake my head. I drove here, but I’m still too buzzed to drive home. I’ll leave my car in the lot and walk the half-dozen blocks to the house I rent with my twin sister. “I’m walking. I live close,” I say.

Connor shoves his hands in his pockets and nods. “Just making sure. Do you want me to walk you?”

“I’m okay, but thanks.” Something tugs in my chest—that old regret that I couldn’t want a nice guy like Connor. That night Sam turned me down at Notre Dame, it was Connor who found me sitting on the porch. He’d been cleaning up from the party and shooing the stragglers out the door. He was that guy. The one who made sure everyone had a ride home, the one who got the worst of the mess cleaned up so the house didn’t smell like the bottom of a beer keg come morning.

We talked on that porch under the moonlight for a long time before he even acknowledged that I’d been crying when he found me. As I walk home through the crisp autumn air, the memory consumes my thoughts.



* * *





Four Years Before . . .


“So, who’s the asshole who broke your heart?” Connor asks me.

“The asshole is trying to be a nice guy,” I say. We’ve been sitting on the back deck of the house for half an hour, making casual chitchat about nothing. Me, trying to shake the sick weight of rejection, Connor pretending I hadn’t been crying when he found me. “I’m just a stupid girl who thought being with me might be more appealing than being a good guy.”

“I see. So, he has a girlfriend?”

I shake my head. “I’m friends with his little sister. And since he sees her as a little girl . . .”

He drew in a sharp breath. “Ouch.”

I’m covered in goose bumps, but I’m grateful for his company. Before Connor found me out here, I was feeling sorry for myself, wishing I were one of my sisters—anyone but myself. All my life, I’ve been the fun one, the wild one. The stupid one. No one takes me seriously. I wanted Sam to be the exception. “I think my age is just an excuse,” I say. “A good one, I guess, but even good excuses are just excuses.”

“You’re gorgeous, Liz. If this guy doesn’t see that, he’s blind. Hell, the thirty minutes sitting here with you have been the best of my day.”

“Thanks,” I whisper. But looks have never been my problem. My insecurities are about what’s on the inside.

Connor and I talk more. Laugh a little. He’s good at making me laugh, and I like that he doesn’t seem to take himself too seriously.

“Tell me what would fix this night for you,” he says.

I look up to Sam’s window. The light’s on and I see him standing there, looking down on us. When I turn back to Connor, I say, “Kiss me?” I know it’s wrong to ask for this just to make Sam jealous, but I can’t help it. I’m hurt and embarrassed, and I want Sam to see that I’m worth wanting.

Connor smiles slowly and releases an exaggerated sigh. “If I have to.” He winks, then slips one of those big hands around my neck and slowly lowers his mouth to mine.

The kiss isn’t long or especially heated, but it’s nice. When he pulls away, he leans forward, settling his elbows back on his knees. “If you ever want me to kiss you when he isn’t watching, give me a call.”

Guilt stabs my gut. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugs. “Tonight, I got to kiss the most beautiful girl at the party. Don’t apologize. Whatever your reasons, it was still the highlight of my day.”

The back door squeaks open and thumps closed again. “Come inside, Liz. It’s late. Nothing good happens at this hour.” Sam shifts his gaze to Connor as if to support his point.