“Close your eyes.” He poured water over my hair, then gently massaged in shampoo. “You have a hundred years of dirt on you. And so many scrapes and bruises.” He sighed. “I can’t believe that happened. What were you doing on the second floor?”
I had tried to explain in the hospital that I thought I heard someone up there, and that I was also planning how we could build a master bathroom because I wanted him to like being at the house. I had gone on to say that in my own mind, it was “our” house, and not just mine. I went through this again, feeling increasingly sleepy as he gently moved the soapy washcloth over my arms. He also moved it over my breasts, and despite everything, I shivered a little. Connor carefully washed me from head to toe.
“No, you stay still and let me get you,” he told me as the water got cold and I struggled to sit up. “Let me help you.”
“You do help me,” I muttered. I was so tired now, it was hard to keep my eyes open. “You help me all the time.” I let him wrap a towel around me and maneuver us out of the bathroom door. In the hallway, I picked up my head off his shoulder, because it definitely smelled like something bad was going down in the kitchen where Jared was working on dinner.
“I’ll check on that,” Connor assured me. He lay me on his bed and just like in the hospital, helped me to pull on clean clothes. Then, before he left to rescue or dispose of dinner, he sat down on the mattress next to me. “I don’t want you to go back into the house, not unless I’m there, too.”
“Ok.” I was happy to agree. “I think I’ll do most things with you from now on.”
He smiled for the first time since I’d seen him earlier at lunch. “I can live with that.” The smile went away. “I was thinking about you falling and being alone, and I was also thinking about you being there with someone else in the house. Some guy…”
“I had the hammer.”
“Great,” he sighed. “Great. But no more, not without me.”
My eyes were closing again. “Connor, wake me up if all this makes you have a bad dream tonight. Promise?”
He kissed my cheek. “Sure. Try to sleep now, though.” He kissed me again, and tucked in the blankets. “Are you still awake?”
“Mmhm,” I murmured.
“Lia, you told me in the car that you love me. I don’t think you meant to say it. And I don’t know if it was just the pain meds talking, but I wanted you to know, I love you, too. I love you, so much.”
I opened my eyes. “It wasn’t the pain stuff. It was real.”
“Good.” He smiled again, but then we both heard Jared call, “Uh, I could use some help?”
“I’ll be back.”
But I was out in the next second, and I didn’t wake up until the morning. When I did, Connor had his arm across me in his sleep, with his fingers entwined with mine.
∞
“Hang on.” I carefully lowered myself to the floor and put my cast up on a pillow from the bed. “Ok, that’s better. What’s up?”
“I’m worried,” Jared said, sitting down beside me. “I’m worried about Connor.”
“Yeah,” I said, and sighed, because I knew what my brother meant. Things were weird. As I started to feel better as the week went on, the bruises and scratches from the fall already fading, the worse Connor seemed. It wasn’t that he was having trouble at night; he was sleeping fine, as far as I could tell, with no nightmares.
The problem was during the day, when he was less and less like himself. He got increasingly quiet as the week went on, to the point that it was obvious and, for both Jared and me, upsetting. He didn’t talk in the car, he was brooding when I saw him at work, he was almost totally silent when the three of us ate dinner together. Jared reported the same behavior on their way to lacrosse, which had led to this emergency meeting on Friday afternoon. We sat on the floor of Jared’s bedroom to talk, and also tried to teach Misiu to shake hands. He really wanted the treats, but seemed confused that we were trying to make him work for them, so the training wasn’t going very well for us.
“What do you think is wrong with Connor?” Jared asked.
I could think of a million things: we had said the L word to each other, I had said I wanted to live with him, I had covered up for the guys who had shot him, et cetera. “Um, I don’t know,” I answered. I shoved some of my brother’s candy in my mouth to help stuff down my fear that I was the cause of this issue. “I had to keep it away from the puppy,” I explained to Jared, after I swallowed the chocolate. “Misiu, shake!” I held up my hand to him and offered him a treat, but he just cocked his one ear at me, like I was nuts.
“I was afraid Connor was mad at me, so I asked him, and he said no,” Jared told me. “I asked if he was mad at you, and he said no to that, too. He said he has a lot to think about right now.”
“Like what?” Now that I was no longer asking him to do it, Misiu whacked me with his monster paw. “Ow! We need to cut his nails.” My broken leg also twinged from sitting too long in one position and I shifted.
“I don’t know what he has to think about,” my brother said. “He changed the subject and started talking about Teddy playing football in some summer league in Canada but he’d have to get a visa.” Jared looked perplexed by this.
“That’s, like, immigration documents. Not a credit card,” I explained. “Maybe he’s just thinking a lot about Teddy, then.”
“Misiu, shake!” Jared commanded, and the puppy stared at him, asking why with his big brown eyes. “I don’t think this is working.”
“I’ll talk to Connor tonight,” I said. I was going to have to—it was terrible to see him quiet and preoccupied and now Jared was upset, too. I had been avoiding a discussion because I had been afraid of what Connor was going to tell me, which was the opposite of a healthy relationship. That was according to Amy, who had been getting on my case about telling him everything, all the stuff I had spilled to her.
Breaking my leg had been a great thing in helping to repair the breach between Amy and me. At first, I was sure she’d be glad to see me in pain and limping, like a punishment I deserved. But actually, she had been concerned and supportive from the moment I came in on my crutches on Tuesday morning, helping me and Connor figure out a way for me to sit comfortably, insisting I go home early when my leg started to ache pretty badly and I got tired at the end of the day. The fussing over me had led to us talking more as we worked across the conference table (things were getting better, but she still wasn’t trusting me to be in my office alone). And she was urging—kind of insisting—that I talk to Connor.
“You have to,” she had told me this morning. “You obviously feel terrible about it. You’re really bad at hiding guilt, all the throwing up and mooning around you do. You know you actually shake with nerves, right?”
“I haven’t thrown up since Monday!” I protested, and I had put my hands behind my back so that she couldn’t see them trembling. But she did have a point, and she had continued with a few more.
“I don’t think he’s going to respond like you think, Lia. I think he’ll understand and not blame you. You’ve been blaming yourself for a long time, so you can’t see it, but try to put yourself in his shoes. What would you do if the situation was reversed?”
But of course, the situation could never be reversed, because Connor would have been strong enough and smart enough not to get himself into the problem in the first place—
Misiu got me with his paw again, laying it like a lead weight on my knee. “I’ll talk to Connor when he gets back from his run,” I told Jared, removing the paw. “Shake. See? Like this.” I pumped Misiu’s leg up and down. “Or, I could talk to him after dinner. Or, maybe, tomorrow morning, if he seems tired or something.”
Even the dog was looking at me like I was an ass-waffle. I sighed.
“I will tonight, before bed,” I promised. “I really will figure this out. I don’t want him to be unhappy, or you, either.”
“Because you love us,” Jared clarified.
“I love yo
u both,” I agreed. “But you knew that, right? You knew that I loved you, even before I said it to everyone in the car.”
“Yeah,” he said, picking up his game machine. “Of course I knew that.”
“And?” I prompted.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I love you, too.” He looked back down. “Yes! I just got my five hundredth yellow wombat!”
I was crying over that—the love, not the wombat—when I walked into the living room to start dinner for them. I wasn’t very hungry myself after eating all of Jared’s candy.
Later that night, I tried to arrange myself seductively on the bed, which was difficult with a large, neon-orange cast (Jared’s color choice). I pulled Connor’s t-shirt off my shoulder in what I thought might be a sexy angle, and flipped my hair. Then, since Connor was still looking at his phone, I coughed softly. When he still didn’t look, I hacked.
Now he turned. “You ok? Want some water?”
“No, I’m fine. Are you coming to bed?” I hinted. He did, but with a pair of sweatpants on, and a shirt. “I meant with less clothing,” I explained, and removed my own.
“Lia, your leg…”
“We’ll just be careful,” I said. “I think you need a stress reliver.” I slid my fingers low, and then lower, down below his waistband.
“Oh,” Connor growled. “Like what you’re doing with your hands right now?”
“Right? Don’t you feel better?”
“How do you feel?” he asked, and his hands moved, too. “Any stress?”
“Not anymore! Oh, God…” I lost track of how I was touching him as he massaged his palm on my clit and squeezed my nipple in his fingers. His clothes came off pretty quickly.
“Like this, Lia,” Connor whispered, and helped me turn on my side. He entered me from behind, holding my hip as he eased in deep. He circled his arm under me to keep me steady and moved the heel of his other hand to my clitoris. “Just like this. Let me do the work.”
“Work,” I urged. “Harder. Harder!” He moved even deeper, making me gasp with each thrust, filling me and causing the pleasure to build higher, and higher. I started to shake as the orgasm engulfed me.
He groaned into my neck, biting me there as I came around him, clenching down as I felt him pulse inside me. He kept moving his fingers, teasing across my breast, as we both came down a little from that peak. “You were right,” Connor told me. “I did need that.”
“Me too.” My body gave another involuntary jolt as he gently pinched my nipple.
“I have been a little stressed.” I felt him sigh into my hair. “I’ve been thinking about our future a lot.”
Oh, balls. “What about it?” I asked, my voice going higher.
“I was thinking about…ok, I haven’t wanted to tell you, because I haven’t wanted to scare you, but I was thinking…”
I shifted so that I could see his face. “Yes?” I demanded, my voice even higher. I was getting close to the range where only Misiu would be able to hear me.
“What you said the day you broke your leg, about us living together. All three of us, in the house when it’s finished.” He looked at me. “I want that. Did you mean it? Because you had also mentioned that you might have flown when the stairs went down, rather than falling. I wasn’t sure how much I should trust what you said that day.”
“I meant it.” I shook my head quickly. “Not the part about flying, the part about living together! Of course, yes. Done.” I sighed with relief. “Is that what you were worried about? That’s not something to stress over because Jared and I would live in a cave if you were there.”
Connor kissed my forehead and huffed a little laugh into my hair. “I don’t care for bats, so caves are out. But it’s not just that. All week I’ve been stuck with Rome Arschloch, suffering through meetings with that ass-waffle.”
He totally was, and I nodded in sympathy.
“It’s made me think a lot about what I’m doing with my life.” His voice was very serious. “What if I left Whitaker Enterprises and went back to construction full-time? The more we’ve been doing, working on this house, the more I remember how much I enjoy it. I could work for Steve for a while, saving more, and then re-start my old business.”
“Really? Would that make you happy?”
“It would be a big cut in my paycheck.” He looked around the spacious bedroom. “I wouldn’t be able to afford this.”
“Connor, you’re talking to someone who bunked in an alley for a while. And I wasn’t kidding about the cave.”
His forehead crinkled. “You lived in an alley? Sweetheart…”
“I’m just saying, Jared and I will be great anywhere. We can move to someplace smaller to save money while we work on the house. And if you wanted me to, I could help you with your business. If you needed me, I mean.”
“I do. I do need you.” He kissed me and slid his body on top of mine, rubbing against me. I moved my hips, restless, and Connor reached back in his drawer for another condom. “Lia, right now, ok? Right now.”
I needed him, too, and I held him close as he came back into me. I held him for the rest of the night, and my dreams were full of Connor. They were lovely.
But the next morning, I was not as pleased with life. Balls. “Balls!” I exclaimed aloud, and picked out another egg shell fragment.
“You know, I have a great stress-relief method that I learned last night,” Connor commented quietly, nuzzling my neck as I anxiously stirred my crepe batter.
“Shh!” I looked over at Jared, but he was involved in a development league football game on the living room TV. “Can you slice those strawberries? First wash, then slice,” I requested, pointing at the colander of fruit.
Connor picked me up instead of the metal bowl. “You need to get off your leg for a while. Is it hurting?”
“Not really,” I lied. “I have to finish this brunch for your—”
The doorbell rang. “They’re here!” Jared hollered, and Misiu barked uproariously.
“I’ll go say hello. You sit,” Connor told me, and put me on a barstool. I smoothed down my hair and pasted on a smile for his parents.
“Oh, they’re still staying with you?” I heard Margaux ask. Her voice carried. Jared and I looked at each other, and I congratulated myself that his haircut looked great and he was wearing a clean shirt this time.
“It’s ok,” he whispered, and nodded at me. I nodded back.
“Yes, luckily for me, Jared and Lia are still here,” Connor said, as he followed Blaine and Margaux into the living room. He put his arm around me and kissed me, right on the lips.
Holy balls. “Hello. I should get back into the kitchen,” I said, very, very sorry now that I had thought I could impress them with my culinary skills at the apartment, rather than taking them to a restaurant where Jared and I could run away and escape.
“I think he’s part wolf,” my brother was saying with relish to Blaine, pointing to Misiu. “But maybe he’s some kind of killer police dog, because he’s so strong and the dog walker thinks he’s going to be huge when he’s done growing. His jaws are like a bear trap, that’s what Connor says.”
Blaine pulled his hand back from petting the puppy.
“Not really,” I called from the kitchen, beating the crepe batter wildly. “He’s not really a killer. He’s very sweet.”
“He’s a good boy,” Connor said, picking up the puppy. He walked to join me in the kitchen, carrying an armful of Misiu. “Jared, go grab your lacrosse stick and we’ll take the dog to the park. You can show my dad—”
“No, no!” Crap, I had practically yelled it. “I mean, don’t go now. I need to let this rest for just a little, and then we’ll be eating crepes.”
“Perfect. While it rests, you can, too.” He handed me my crutches and I moved into the living room.
“Connor mentioned that you fell through a house,” Margaux commented. “We were so sorry to hear that.”
It really sounded like she was. Totally sincere. “I fell only a little
way, when the stairs, uh, loosened.” I pointed to my orange cast. “I’ll have this off in a few weeks.”
“What an interesting color,” she remarked. “We certainly wouldn’t miss you in hunting season.”
“No, I’m sure you wouldn’t,” I said, forcing a smile at her. She would shoot to kill and she wouldn’t miss, I was sure.
“What’s left on the punch list of that house you were working on?” Blaine asked his son, and Connor started on the long inventory of things we needed to do.
“We’re a few months away from moving in,” he concluded.
“Moving in? You’re moving in?” Margaux asked. “Is that what you meant?”
“Well, all three of us. Four,” Connor amended, bending down and gently tugging the puppy’s floppy ear.
His mother turned to stare at me. “Really.”
I took a big breath and wished for courage. “Margaux, I hope you can be pleased about this, because we’re very happy,” I said.
“And I’ll have a new job,” Connor mentioned, and I winced. We had talked about it more this morning, but I had no idea he was going to mention this huge change to his parents.
“Connor, could you help me with breakfast? I bet that batter has rested enough,” I said, but Blaine was already asking.
“New job? Are you moving up at Whitaker Enterprises?” He looked proudly at Connor.
“No,” his son answered. “I’m going to re-start my house remodeling business. I want to do it again.”
Blaine looked at Connor, surprised, but my eyes went to Margaux to gauge her reaction. She was looking right back at me.
“Really,” she repeated. “Lia, I’ll help you in the kitchen. Now.”
“No, thanks,” I stalled.
“No, we should talk,” she persisted.
“No, I’m really fine, right here.” I actually held onto the couch.
“Go ahead, sweetheart. My mom’s a great cook, much better than I am,” Connor told me.
Fixing Lia Page 24