“I’m serious, Con.”
“Con,” he repeats. “I like how you say that.”
Just when I think I’m winning him over, he steps back.
Oh no. He’s going to leave, and I won’t see him until next year. Or ever. I eye the door, consider locking it and keeping him here so we can talk about this more. But he’s closer to the back door, so I make a split-second decision to slip past him and flip the lock.
I sprint across the kitchen and lock the front door too, then stand there with my back against it, blocking him from leaving.
Connor stares. “What…what are you doing?”
“You have to hear me out.”
“I did.”
“No, you listened, but you didn’t hear me. Your brother risked his life to come here. You can’t run from us. I locked the doors, so if you want to leave us, you have to say a proper goodbye, and if you do that, I never want to see you again. Never.” Because I can’t go through this every year.
Connor’s eyebrows draw down. “Baby, are you holding me hostage?”
I put my hands on my hips like Dina might. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
Connor interlocks his fingers behind his head and bites his lip, blue eyes bright, mischievous.
“Holy fuck, Renne, if you threaten to love me despite knowing I’m a fucking monster, I’ll have to marry you. You know that, right?”
“It’s crossed my mind.”
“And?”
“And I’m holding you hostage, aren’t I?”
Connor crosses the space between us in three strides. I expect him to pick me up and pin me against the wall, but he cradles my face in his hands instead. His touch melts me. I close my eyes, enjoying it. But my eyes are also closed because I don’t want to look at him again if he decides not to give us a chance. I couldn’t stand to watch him as he breaks my heart. He’s so beautiful that it would be like watching a fallen angel fly away without a second glance.
Soft lips close over mine. Connor moans. “I missed this. You. I missed you.”
I smile. “You did?”
“Mmhm.”Kiss.“Do you want to go upstairs? Tie me up? Treat me like a hostage?”
“Um, if that makes your heart happy.”
“It doesn’t.” He scoops me up with an arm under my knees and the other supporting my back and carries me upstairs. “But you might just torture me.”
“I don’t want to torture you.”
In my bedroom, he puts me down and scrunches up his nose. “Baby, do you want to make another porn?”
“I never got to watch the first one.”
“Is that a yes?” Connor asks, looking like he swallowed a grapefruit.
“Oh no. What did you do?”
Connor walks over to my vanity, which is right across my bed, and tucks his hand behind one of the lights. He pulls out a tiny device. “Don’t tell me that’s a camera.”
“I’m not,” he says and throws it in the trash. He starts to undress.
“No, wait a minute, we’re talking about this…” I pause when I see my name tattooed on his chest. Oh my God. I’m speechless.