I open the nearest dresser drawer, grab a pair of thick flannel pants, and shove them in her hands. “If you’re going out there, would you please wear these too?”
She smirks. “Are you jealous?”
Raking my gaze over her again, I shake my head. “Don’t mistake my selfishness for jealousy. I don’t want to share.”
I wait for her to put on the pants—not that it helps much. How does she make a T-shirt and flannel pants look so goddamn indecent? For a minute, I contemplate ordering her to stay in the bedroom, but I know that wouldn’t go over well, so I head to the hall to find Connor.
This guy was one of my best friends through college. We got thrown together as roommates freshman year, and our friendship formed from there. I’ve never been as close to him as I am to Max and Will, but we were cool.
Until he started dating my little sister.
Connor’s passed out in the hall, his head slumped to the side as if he’s trying to use his own shoulder as a pillow.
Liz pads over to him and places her hand on his back. “Con, wake up.”
He blinks at her then rolls over and awkwardly pushes himself to his feet. “What are you doing here?” he asks Liz, dragging his eyes down to her breasts. Can I punch him in the face for looking at her the way any man would?
“This is my house,” she says patiently. She slides her arm under his. “Let’s get you to the couch.”
I grab the other arm and help him onto his feet to hobble to the couch. She turns to me. “Would you mind getting him a glass of water?”
Reluctantly, I turn to the kitchen to fetch the water and remind myself that Connor didn’t know I’d be here tonight. But somehow that only makes me feel worse, not better.
I spot a bottle of ibuprofen on the counter and take it and the glass of water back to the living room.
Connor and Liz are nestled together on the couch. He’s stretched out across it, resting his head against Lizzy’s shoulder. Cozy as shit. She’s laughing about something. I don’t like how comfortable they are together, and I know Della wouldn’t like it either.
“Connor was just telling me about the time you went roller-skating in college.” She giggles again and her eyes dance with amusement as she brings them to mine. “Is it true you got asked to the Snowball Dance by eight different junior high girls?”
Yeah, I’m gonna punch him in the face. Any minute now. I grunt instead of answering and hold up the water and the pills. “Sit up, idiot.”
Liz frowns. “Empathy is not your forte, Sam.”
“He’s the one who got himself in this position.”
Connor scrambles to sitting, putting his hands on Liz way more than necessary in the process, and I shove the glass at him. Water sloshes onto his lap, and he jumps.
I step back and cross my arms. “What brings you here tonight?”
“I needed a place to crash,” he mutters. “I locked myself out of my apartment, and Della’s pissed at me so she wouldn’t bring the spare key.”
A glance at the clock above his head confirms that it’s after three in the morning. “Where were you tonight that you just realized you locked yourself out at this hour?”
Liz gapes at me. “Sam,” she hisses. “Aren’t you supposed to be more supportive? Bros before hos and all that?”
“That ho you’re talking about is my sister.”
She turns to Connor, giving me her back. “You deserve better than her, Con.”
“Watch it,” I warn.
“I know she’s your sister,” Liz says, “and I know her better than most. I grew up with Della, remember? But she stomps all over Connor.”
My jaw tightens. I don’t want to talk about this, because talking about it is going to make me think more than I want to about why Liz is so bent on defending him and why he’d come here, of all places, when he needed a place to crash. “I’m sure you’re not as innocent as this one thinks,” I tell Connor, “and in the morning, I expect you to apologize to Della.”
Liz rolls her eyes. “He just went to the strip club with his friends after he left the reception. It’s not a big deal.”
My face heats with a rush of anger, and Connor winces. Clearly, he wasn’t intending to share that part with me. “You’re lucky I don’t make you sleep in the street,” I mutter.
I can’t face him anymore, so I head back to the bedroom, slamming the door behind me.
I can hear them talking, but I can’t go back out there.
Chapter Seven
Liz
The room is dark when I return. Connor’s tucked in on the couch, and I’ve done all I can for him tonight, but he’ll have one hell of a hangover tomorrow—from the booze and the aching heart. Sam doesn’t understand how much Connor loves Della, how hard he tries to please her.