“Ugh! I freaking knew it!”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“I’m not wearing panties. You took them off, remember?With your teeth.”
“Not likely to forget that. Not ever.” His eyes glitter with lazy heat.
“Don’t try to distract me with that sexy look. We’re having a serious conversation.”
“Thought we were trying to sleep.”
“No,youwere trying to sleep. I was contemplating the depths of your stalker-like behavior.”
“You know, you should actually be thanking me for attending that wedding — seeing as it ended up getting crashed by those loan sharks who were after your friend Lila.” His brows go up. “Who do you think arrested them and kept the whole reception from descending into chaos?”
I blanch. “I… but… you…wait, that’s…”
“Cat got your tongue, Hunt?”
Yes, actually. I’m quite speechless.
Somehow, in the craziness of the past few days, I never put it together that Conor was the one who stepped in to save Phoebe and Nate’s wedding day. It makes sense, now that I think about it… but the knowledge is still hard to wrap my mind around. Perhaps because it stirs scary feelings to life inside my chest. Feelings that terrify me down to my soul.
Conor Gallagher has been saving your ass since before you ever met him.
That particular realization is too complicated to unpack right now, so I push it to the back of my mind and force a light tone.
“Well. Unless you have a death wish, may I suggestnotsharing this information with the bride — Phoebe will kill you if she learns you crashed her special day just to spy on her friend.”
“Relax. I was an exemplary guest. RSVP’d promptly, ordered the steak, even bought them a damn gift off their registry. A blender. Five-speeds. Very impressive.”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, because that’s what marriage is about. Small household appliances.”
“Suppose I wouldn’t know, seeing as I’ve never been married.”
“Consider yourself lucky,” I mutter, thinking of Paul.
He’s silent for a long time. So long, I think maybe he actually did fall asleep. But then, from the darkness, I hear a quiet, “I used to.”
I scrunch up my nose, confused. “Huh?”
“I used to consider myself lucky. Thought I’d dodged a bullet by not settling down. You have to understand… in my line of work, the things I see…” His voice is so soft I can barely make out the words. “It’s hard to imagine ever being able to come home at the end of the day and act like a husband. I always figured it was easier just to stay unattached.”
“And now?” I ask, almost afraid to hear the answer.
His eyes find mine. “I’m thirty-two years old. I live alone. My parents are out in California, still in the same house where I grew up. No siblings. No pets. No social life to speak of, not counting the occasional after-work function. This career is all I have. I’ve built my entire life around it.” He blows out a sharp breath. “It used to be enough. But maybe it’s not anymore. Maybe I want… something more than just the job.”
I bite my tongue to prevent myself from asking what changed his mind.
Who changed his mind.
When I speak, I do my damndest to keep my voice steady. “Not that I pretend to be an expert on living the perfect life…”
Eyes closed, he snorts.
“But I have to believe it’s about balance.”
“Look, Hunt, I’m not doing yoga with you no matter how much you beg.”