BOUGHT: A Standalone Romance (13 page)

None of our options are perfect though. We keep looking. After an impromptu lunch, we stopped at our last house for the day. Instantly, we know it’s the one. The house is a cottage style in a soft peach hue with white trim. The long walkway is done in red brick. Once we reach a white fence, we walked underneath a black trellis covered with purple climbing flowers. Mary runs a hand over them eagerly.

After I let us inside, we stare at the place in awe. The house is naturally cool, with softly painted walls. The kitchen is perfect, neat, with an island in the middle and tall barstools in front of them. There is a separate dining room that holds sliding double doors leading out to the backyard. Mary quickly loses interest in the house itself and wanders out into the garden in the backyard while Kyle and I continue to explore. There are four bedrooms in all, and the master bedroom even has an attached bathroom with a large Jacuzzi tub. I wonder if I’m in heaven.

“What do you think?” I ask Kyle.

“It doesn’t have a basketball hoop.”

I laugh. “We could fix that easily enough.”

Kyle nods. “Then I like it. Can we have a pool?”

“Sure.”

“And a dog?”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “Who’s taking care of this dog?”

“I am! Come on, it’ll be so cool. He can guard the house, and I could take him for walks and let him sleep in my bed…”

“You know you have to ask your mom first, right?”

Kyle pouts. “You’re both my mom. Having two moms is hard,” he mumbles, walking off to talk to Mary.

I have to stop the hot tears colleting in my eyes. I will not cry, I will not cry, I will to cry. Although he’s been calling me Angela, it’s nice to know that he thinks of me as him mom. It’s at this moment that I realize something: it doesn’t matter what else happens. As long as I have Mary and Kyle, everything will be okay.

I wish I could say that’s a wonderful feeling, that it makes all of the panic and worry dissolve. It helps a little, but it doesn’t matter whether it does or not. I will keep fighting for them no matter what happens.

Strange. It seems as though overnight I had no one, except Zoey of course, and now a little family seems to be forming around me quickly. I glance around at the house again and nod. This is it. This is the one.

Kyle is walking back over with Mary. “Mom says you guys have to talk about it.”

I glance at Mary with a smile. “I think that’s exactly what needs to happen. Come on, let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Kyle asks.

I place my arm around his shoulder as I lead him back to the car. “To put a dent in my bank account. We’re buying this house.”

Two weeks later, the house has its doors and windows flung open. Mary is sitting on the floor, carefully unpacking a bag that contains her books. Her mother hadn’t been happy that she was staying, but she sent her stuff quickly just to get it out of her house. Kyle runs through, carrying a box of his video games to his room.

I sigh. My life is coming together again. There has been no sign of Nathan since that first day, and I’m beginning to find relief. Maybe he went back home. Maybe he won’t find me out here. Still paranoid, I always check my surroundings when leaving the city. It may be crazy, but there’s no measure too big to avoid having him back in my life.

Glancing around, I can really say that I’m happy. Except, I can’t get Connor out of my head. I think about him often and find myself missing him. All I can think about are his eyes, glancing into mine. The way that we had laughed when he let down his walls and was himself for once.

“Go see him,” Zoey has chimed more than once. “Besides, you can’t avoid him forever. All of your stuff is at his house.”

I stubbornly shook my head. “I don’t want to see Connor. Not until I can trust that he won’t hurt me.”

Zoey sighed in exasperation, but shrugged. “Have it your way. Just don’t bring him up again if you’re not planning on doing anything about it.”

I had been so pissed at Zoey that we didn’t talk for three days. Part of me knows that she’s right, and I should just face him. However, I’m terrified. Connor has stopped calling, stopped texting. What if he doesn’t even want to see me anymore?

“Go see him,” Mary says.

“What are you talking about?” I ask with a frown on my face. “Go see who?”

Mary cocks an eyebrow. “You know who I’m talking about. Stop being stubborn.”

“How do you even know what I’m thinking?”

“You only get that look in your eye when you’re thinking about him,” Mary says, a small smile on her lips that looks tempered with sadness.

“Fine,” I say finally, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’ll go see him. Tomorrow.”

“Today. Now, in fact. Kyle and I don’t need any help. Besides, you brought the car for us, so if we do need to go anyway, we’ll be fine on our own.”

“What about—”

“I’ll be careful,” she says pointedly.

I nod. A few days ago, I finally told Mary about Nathan. The only reason I’d finally let it out was because we’d run into a man that looked very much like him and I knew that Mary at least had to know. Neither of us has told Kyle; we don’t want to freak him out. Sighing, I push my fingers through my hair.

“Maybe I should call him first. What if he’s with someone or something?” I mumble.

Mary laughs. “You’re so see-through. Go. See. Him. Now! Get out of our hair.”

I laugh at Mary and shake my head. “Okay, okay! I’m going.”

Once I reach my bedroom, the old jitters come back. There’s a lot about Connor that I still don’t know, but the bad sides of him are bad indeed. The way he drinks, the way he likes to be in control, the way his tongue could cut to the bone of my very existence…I don’t know if he’s any good for me. Still, I feel the longing. I want to feel his hand brush against my face, his lips graze my mouth, my arm wrapped around his. I miss every part of him.

Opening my closet, I push through my clothes. There isn’t much, since, as Mary said, my clothes are still at his house. I opt for a pair of dark blue jeans, a purple sweater, and my sneakers. Maybe if I dress like this, I’ll be less tempted to end up in his bedroom. I pull my hair up into a ponytail before I grab my bag and head back out to the living room.

“Don’t you look pretty?” Mary says with a grin.

“I was going for casual and aloof.”

“Think he’ll fall for that?”

“Not a chance in hell,” I say with a laugh. “Kyle, I’m heading out,” I call.

“Can you bring back snacks? Mom brought healthy stuff,” he says, his face pinched.

“We’ll pig out later,” I say with a laugh.

“You’re both children,” Mary calls after me.

“I never denied that.”

Walking out to my car, I slip inside and take a deep breath. I can do this. It’s no big deal. I’m fine. Why is my heart pounding out of my chest? Have I really started developing feelings for the possessive, arrogant, sexy, smart, indulgent Connor?

I don’t want to think about that. All I want to do is go, get my things, and… And what? Make up with him? Fight with him? Fall into his bed and forget the whole thing happened?

Connor is complicated. He’s had a past where he was never in control, much like I had growing up. The only difference is that his need to control has manifested in a destructive and dangerous way, while mine has been quelled by taking men for every dime they have. I wonder if we even could have anything. Both of us are so toxic, so raw. The events that have taken place since we met have only made us more on edge, exposed. It’s a scary sight to watch your walls come tumbling down.

Driving on auto pilot, I get there before my brain can quite catch up. The house stands tall, looming and imposing as always. Swallowing thickly, I slide out of the car. I can do this. Holding my head up a little higher, I walk up to the front door and press my finger against the doorbell. It’s silent for so long that I think no one will answer, until Connor’s maid pokes her head out of the door, a smile on her face.

“Is Connor here?” I ask, peeking over the top of her head.

“He’s upstairs in his study. Should I tell him you’re here?”

“No!” I say, shocking the maid, who jumps at my raised voice. I chuckle, feeling sheepish. “Sorry. I mean, please don’t. I’ll just go up.”

The woman nods, but as I try to walk past her she gently touches my arm. “Normally, I would never say this, but I wanted you to know. He’s been in an awful mood for the last few weeks.”

I frown. “Got it. Thank you.”

The woman nods before she ambles away in search of something to clean in the already immaculate home. I take the stairs slowly, willing my heart to calm down as I ascend. One part of me wants to sneak into the room I’d slept in when I was here, collect my things, and disappear, but I can’t. Some part of me wants, needs to see him again. Even if it’s only for a moment.

Finally, I’m standing in front of his office door. I can hear him yelling at someone, but no one else is saying anything, so I assume that he’s on the phone. While I get my words together, my emotions, I wait for him to stop speaking before I raise my hand and knock on the wooden door.

“Not now,” he calls.

You could just leave. He obviously doesn’t want to be bothered. It’s probably best to just leave him alone!

No. I’m tired of running. All of my life I’ve run: from my parents, my home, my life, my friends, difficult situations. What’s the point? If I keep running, the only outcome is that my life will be catching up with me again. If I stay, fight, maybe I could change something for once.

I don’t bother knocking a second time. Twisting the knob, I step inside of the office. Normally, Connor is neat, clean, professional to the point of driving me crazy. What I see in front of me makes me pause. There are papers, books, files strewn all over the desk and floor. Clothes cover the surface of two large chairs in front of his desk. Glancing up, I gaze at Connor.

The man is disheveled, wild looking. His normally clean or stubbly chin is covered in a beard. He wears a pair of sweatpants that hang precariously on his hips and a white t-shirt. The eyes that I’ve fallen for from the very beginning are heavy, tired. What has happened to him?

“Angela,” he says quietly, seemingly transfixed with my appearance. He puts down the file in his hand and moves around the edge of the desk towards me. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” I say softly, concern in my voice. “What’s going on?” I ask, waving a hand towards the mess around us.

“Oh,” he says, looking at the room as if he’s just seeing it for the first time. “I have a really important case coming up. What are you doing here?”

“I was just coming to grab my stuff…” I trail off. “Are you okay? You look, um, different.”

Connor laughs. “You mean, I look a mess.” He shrugs. “I realized that I chased off the only woman I’ve felt anything towards in years. Depression will do funny things to you.”

Why am I tearing up? I find myself reaching out, touching his arm gently. This is my fault?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”

Connor holds up a hand. “I treated you like shit; it’s exactly what I deserve. Besides, you gave me the kick in the ass that I needed.”

“I did?”

He nods. “I quit drinking, for good this time.”

I gaze into his eyes, wondering if he’s telling the truth. For the first time, I realize that his eyes are incredibly clear. He
is
telling the truth. A small smile forms on my lips.

“How long?”

Connor shrugs. “Couple weeks. Honestly, I’ve been burying myself in here so I’m not tempted. I threw out every bottle in the house. It sucks,” he says with laugh. “I just wish I could pull myself out of this…” He swallows thickly, straining to say the word. “Depression.”

I have never seen Connor so open before. The way he glances away from me, the way he chokes on his words, I know he’s vulnerable. I reach up, gently slipping the file from his hands. He looks at me in surprise before I wrap my arms around his neck.

Slowly, I feel his arms circling my body. We stand silent, motionless, soaking up the warmth of each other’s bodies and letting ourselves be vulnerable together for once. It hurts seeing him in pain. I wipe at my eyes carefully, not caring if he knows that I’m crying. When I gaze up, he’s doing the same.

I laugh, wiping my face clean with my sleeve. “Come on, we can’t stand around being this pathetic all day.” I smile. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“What are you doing?” Connor asks as I grab his hand and lead him out of the room. “I still have work, you know.” He tries to sound stern and fails, his throat still sounding raw from crying.

“It can wait.”

I pull him through his bedroom and into the bathroom that’s attached. Turning on the tub, I make it nice and warm before I push in the plug. Turning to Connor, I push him arms up and begin to pull him out of his clothes.

My fingers push against his skin slowly, and I have to stand on the tips of my toes to pull the t-shirt over his head. When I drop back down to my feet, he’s gazing at me with a mixture of hunger and…what? I have no idea as I grip the top of his sweatpants and slide them down his legs. He lifts his feet to let me slide them off.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks in a hushed voice.

“You took care of me once, remember?” I ask as I pull his boxers off next. “Let me take care of you.”

The tub has filled up quickly, and I lead him over to it before he climbs inside. A deep moan echoes from his throat as he submerges himself, sinking completely beneath the clear, blue water. A few seconds later, he emerges again, wipes the water from his face, and smiles.

I let him soak up the warmth of the water as I go through the bathroom collecting his clippers. I set up everything he needs on the counter. Satisfied that he’ll be fine, I step towards the door, when he reaches out a hand and grips my thigh.

“Stay with me.”

The look in his eyes is pleading. If I stay, I’ll do something stupid. Not just sleeping with him, but falling for him in a way that could damage us both more than we already are.

I think about him not drinking, about the fact that I brought on that change. Were we really so bad for each other? The thought of taking a chance was the scariest part of it all. I swallow thickly as I take a step towards the tub.

“Connor,” I say quietly, the whispered words echoing off the walls of the bathroom. “I don’t—”

“I know,” he says before I can breathe another word. “I’m scared too, but I want you.” He looks embarrassed as he adds more quietly, “I need you.”

Fuck it. The thought reverberates around my brain as I tug the sweater over my head and toss it to the floor. I kick my jeans off, my eyes never leaving him as he looks me up and down. Beneath the waves of the water, I see his cock growing stiff between his thighs. It doesn’t take me long to slip out of my panties and bra.

Sliding into the tub, I take a sharp inhale of air. The water is hot, stinging, perfect. I slide down into the huge tub bit by bit, until I’m immersed. I echo Connor’s actions from earlier and moan as the water laps at my breasts.

Connor moves forward, his eyes gazing into mine as he leans in. I don’t object, don’t push him away as his mouth connects with mine. He doesn’t move too fast. Instead he tastes me slowly, exploring my mouth gently. When his tongue graces my mouth, I dart mine out against his. I moan against his mouth, savoring the taste of him, the closeness of him. He moves his kisses along my cheeks, my jaw, my neck.

“I missed the hell out of you,” he mumbles against my ear.

“I missed you too,” I admit, not just to him, for the first time.

Connor’s hands run over my body beneath the water. His fingers trail up my belly, tickling me slightly until they come to rest on my breasts. He runs his thumb over my nipple before he lowers his mouth and sucks one into his mouth. My head falls back as he alternates between my left and right nipples, his tongue working in quick, expert licks to long, languid teasing. I slip my hand between my thighs, but he pulls it away.