Connor’s bottle.
I wait for Connor to banter back and ease the tension. Like he always does. But he stares off at the rug, not even looking in my direction.
“Come on, it was a joke,” I say dryly, my ribs binding around my lungs.
Connor suddenly rises to his feet, visibly upset. And he’s trying hard to hide it, avoiding everyone’s gazes. “You’ll have to excuse me for a second,” he says softly, sidestepping past the armrest.
“Connor,” I say before he leaves. I feel sick. Like I might puke. “It was a joke.” I think if I emphasize this, he’ll forgive me.
He doesn’t turn back.
Not once.
I watch him walk out the parlor door. Vanishing from sight.
42
LOREN HALE
I glance at the doorway for the fifth time. I really thought I’d never be able to upset Connor. That no matter what I’d say, what I’d do, he’d always be my friend. I rub my lips, not able to even stomach the idea of losing him over a f**king comment I made.
Lily slides off my lap. She cups her hands around my ear. “Just go,” she whispers, encouraging me to talk to him. Should I though?
I’ve never had a real guy friend until Connor. Pathetic, sure. But I didn’t grow up with bros or teammates and sports. I had Lily. And the friends I have now, I can count on my hand. Hurting them means something different to me.
This pushes me over. I rise from the couch.
I stop on my way out, just to look at Rose. I don’t want to make things worse. She gives me a single nod in confirmation, like I’m doing the right thing here.
Okay…
In five seconds flat, I’m out the door. He’s not on the patio. Or in the kitchen. And he didn’t head to the bathroom. I pass the library, the last room. I want to check there before I head upstairs. The wooden door creaks as I open it, and then I silently curse myself for not looking here sooner.
It’s a goddamn library. Of course he’d be here.
Bookshelves line every wall, top and bottom floors, sliding ladders accompany them. No windows. This room has always been for show. I can’t remember a time when I’d seen anyone in here. Except maybe hide-and-go-seek when we were little. Lily always tried to wedge behind a bookshelf. It freaked me out when I got older, thinking it’d fall on her or something.
It’s weird now, seeing a person in this room. Actually perusing the shelves and removing a dusted hardback from its permanent position.
Connor’s back is turned to me, but I’m sure he heard me shut the door.
I step forward, thinking he’ll spin around.
He doesn’t.
He blows off the dust and flips through the crisp pages.
A lump lodges in my throat, and I clear it with a cough. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Rose is looking for you,” I lie. My breath cages as I wait for him to speak. It’s in this moment that I know how much I value our friendship. And how it’s not invulnerable like I hoped.
“If she was looking for me, she’d be here instead of you.” He shelves the book and chooses another. I open my mouth to respond, but he cuts me off. “I’m not in the mood to talk with you, Lo.”
I can’t hold back. “It was a joke, Connor,” I snap, on the defensive. “I didn’t mean it like you think I did.” Did I, though? I can’t exactly tell. Something black is crawling out of me. Slowly. Eking like tar.
He returns the hardback and rotates to face me, stuffing his hands in his pockets. I’m overly aware of how fragile I am in his presence. And I f**king hate it right now. He lets nothing cross his face. Nothing that makes me feel stronger and better.
I just feel like a f**king idiot. No. Screw this. “You can’t get upset over one f**king joke,” I sneer, pain in my voice. I wish it wasn’t there. So goddamn apparent. Part of me wants to forget about this. And just move on. The other part knows I brought it up for a reason.
“It’s not a joke to me,” he says flatly.
I let out a weak laugh. “Right.”
Connor looks incensed for once, his chest rising and falling heavily. His blue eyes narrowing at me.
“Am I poking the robot?” I ask him with a bitter, painful smile. “Do you feel something, huh?” I extend my arms. “I’m your f**king liability. You should’ve known this day was going to come.” And everything just explodes in my body. Words my father said. Why would Connor keep me around? To manipulate me? All so he could get closer to Rose? I have no clue, and it’s ripping through me. To think that I could’ve—
“I carried you in my arms,” he suddenly says, his eyes bloodshot. “That day you relapsed was the worst night of my life.” He points at the ground. “It’s not a joke to me.”
I have no memory of it—I blacked out. I choke out another laugh, only this one hurts a million times worse. “Great. I’m glad we have that worked out.” I have nothing else to say. Honestly, I’d like to down Maker’s Mark.
“Lo…” He attaches nothing else to my name. I can’t read his mind, so I turn around, expecting him to leave it at that. But as I head to the door, he runs after me.
Connor catches my arm and spins me around. “Lo, wait.” I’ve never seen his eyes this red before.
“I get it,” I tell him. He carried me while I was passed out, and he was freaked.
His hand drops off me, and he shakes his head. “No you don’t.”
A weight builds on my chest. And I have to ask. I can’t just guess anymore. “Am I a liability to you?” I clench my teeth hard, suppressing everything that threatens to overflow.
“Yes,” he says truthfully.
I nod a couple times, letting this fact sink in. “Have you manipulated me?”
He twists his watch on his wrist, his gaze falling to the ground in thought before flitting back to me. “I can tell what people need, and I—”
“Stop,” I choke out. I don’t want to hear him explain. That he pretended to be my friend. He used me. “All you have to say is yes or no.”
“It’s not that simple,” he tells me, a tremor in his usually brick-walled voice.
“It is!” I shout at him. I point at my chest. “You either f**king played me or you didn’t!”
“I love you,” he refutes, his gaze daggered on me.
It takes me aback. Because Connor has admitted to only loving himself. To then loving Rose. No one else. But I know this isn’t sexual or romantic. It’s the kind of love that I have for my brother. The kind that Rose has for her sisters.
He grimaces like the fact is hard for him to accept. “Lo, I don’t…love many people. But there is no manipulation in what I feel for you. The truth is, I gave you what I thought you needed, affection and praise, but I had no motives for it. I didn’t use you for anything.”
I open my mouth to speak, but he raises his hand quickly.
“Wait, let me finish.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “You’re my liability because I love you. The night you relapsed, I thought you were going to die.” He pauses. “…and that fact nearly crippled me. I couldn’t even drive, Lo.” He shakes his head like he doesn’t want to imagine that night. “I care about you, what happens to you, and it’s a weakness any way I look at it. Like your father once asked, what do I get out of it? I told him the truth. I get your friendship. That’s all I want.”