Searching for Mine (Searching For #4.5) (14 page)

He closed the distance and grabbed her arms with a fierceness that challenged her own. “You are special! Don’t ever talk about yourself like that. I always thought you were beautiful.”

“I call bullshit.” She jerked away. “You know what you think is beautiful, Connor? This.” She tugged at the form-fitting lace top. “Fancy clothes and sexy heels.” She fisted her hair and shook the waves wildly. “Perfectly tousled hair and red lipstick and perfume that makes you think of sex. It’s easier, isn’t it? But guess what? It’s all a mirage. One morning, or one day, or one year, you wake up and find this.” She swept her hands over her body with emphasis. “You get glasses and sweats and messy hair and a bare face. You get just me, with no fancy trappings. You get real. And I was crazy to think you were ready for it.”

Waves of anger and frustration emanated from his figure. “I don’t know what I’m ready for!” he yelled. “I know I’m crazy about you and Luke and that my feelings have changed since I walked in your class that first day, and I’m not sure what to do about it. I don’t give a shit about your appearance. Can’t you see I’m nuts about you? I can get real!”

She wrapped her arms around her chest and shook her head. “No. I just know I can’t do this with you. I’m looking for a relationship, not just sex. I’m looking for a man I can grow old with and who wants to be a father to my son. How’s that for real?”

“You don’t want to give me a chance here? Let me catch up. Think about how this will work and what I can offer you?”

She smiled sadly. “Your answer said enough, Connor. I have to go.”

“What about us? What about Luke?”

Her heart ached but she forced herself to speak. “Luke adores you and I’d never say you can’t see him. Just—just give me some time, okay? I think we need a break.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Ella.”

“I know,” she said. “When you open yourself up to love someone, there’s no way not to get hurt. You just have to decide if it’s worth the pain.”

Ella left him alone in his bedroom, wondering if he could hear the sound of her heart shattering.

* * * *

“You look like shit.”

Connor lifted his beer mug and stared moodily at his brother. They’d agreed to meet at the pub downtown. Nate held his usual cocktail, a Darth Maultini, but Connor wasn’t even in the mood to tease him about it.

The semester was coming to an end. Luke continued to come over to his house and do homework, but Connor made sure to cite work as an excuse to stay away from Ella. Class became a torturous session that tore him apart. He ached to touch her. Talk to her. Insist they were being ridiculous by not trying to be together.

But he realized, deep down, Ella was right.

He hadn’t made a move until she walked in that kitchen transformed. When he looked back on their first kiss in the snow, he remembered keeping a lock-down on his hormones and emotions. He’d treated her more carefully, with more respect. The moment she came at him in a low-cut top and short skirt, and he thought of her kissing some guy, he’d lost his control. Somehow, it seemed safer to play with a sexually experienced, hot woman. He knew the rules.

God, he was such an ass.

“Yeah, it’s been a tough few weeks. How’s Kennedy?”

“Hard-headed as usual. She found her engagement ring and kind of freaked out.”

He almost spit out his beer. “Dude, are you serious? You asked her to marry you?”

Nate waved a hand carelessly in the air. “I ask her to marry me all the time. The ring is for the formal asking I’m planning for her. Of course, she stumbled across it and majorly lost her mind. This may be the hardest woman in the world to pin down.”

“Why can’t you just leave things alone?” he asked in frustration. “You’re both happy. Shacked up. Who needs marriage?”

Nate looked surprised. “I do. I love her. She wants to get married, too, but the woman is stubborn. Eventually I’ll get her to agree. How’s Ella?”

He grunted. “Fine.”

“Luke?”

“Fine.”

“How’s school? Graduation is May, right?”

“Yep, I’m all set. As long as I pass Ella’s class.”

“And work? You still going for that big management position?”

“Yep. They offered me the job.”

Nate laughed with delight. “Congratulations! Not that I’m surprised, but damn, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

He tried to force a happy smile, but he was too miserable. Nate stared at him hard, his green eyes seeing way too much, like he always did. He tapped a finger against the edge of the table in a steady rhythm. “You’re in love with Ella, aren’t you?”

Connor jerked back, splashing beer over the rim of his glass. “Holy shit, dude, why’d you ask me a question like that?”

His brother shrugged. “I could tell. You’re a mess. Something happened between you two. Just tell me.”

So Connor did. He told Nate the entire story from start to finish, and Ella’s expectations, and his confusion, and dumped it all out in one long, messy stream of words. There was no one else he trusted more in the world than Nate. His brother took it all in with that quiet manner, just nodding here and there as he urged him to continue.

Finally, he fell silent. The cocktail waitress took that moment to slide by their table and smile cheerily. “Can I get you another round, gentlemen?”

He automatically switched into gear, giving her a big smile and wink. “We’ll have anything you’re giving, sweetheart.”

She giggled and cocked her head in a flirty manner. “Oh, yeah? I may have to take you up on that offer later.”

“I’ll be waiting. For now, I think we’re good.”

With another sidelong look, she walked away with an extra swing of her hips that did nothing for him. When he turned back to his brother, Nate was looking at him in pure shock.

“You’re unbelievable. That was the stupidest, most asinine pick-up line I ever heard. And she fell for it! You’re the only guy I know who gets away with that behavior. No wonder you’re such an ass. Women have been falling for you your whole life and you’ve never had to work hard to really keep one.”

Connor’s mouth fell open. “That’s a shitty thing to say to me! I just poured out my heart and you’re giving me a hard time because the waitress liked me?”

Nate dropped his face into his hands and groaned. “God, you’re just like Kennedy. I swear, it’s scary. You both have intimacy issues. You’re both stuck on stupid images and your ideas of beauty. You’re both terrified of being left alone and getting your heart broken. You both are driving me nuts.”

Shock poured through him. “I’m not afraid of being left. I’ve always broken up with women, not the other way around. Is it wrong to accept the truth about myself? I’m not meant for long-term or serious relationships. I’m not built that way.”

Nate looked up and stared at him with serious eyes. “Connor, I need you to listen to me, man. You were left in the most devastating way possible. Mom left you. Oh, you always talked about how hard it was on me, but you’re the one who got stuck with all the crap. You watched Dad take off and had to raise me. You had to be the parent in the relationship, and you never got the answers of why. Then you got this stupid idea that you had no brains, like the intelligence was distributed only to one family member, and you limited yourself.”

His stomach lurched at the mention of Mom. He hated thinking about it, but Nate held his attention and he knew it was important to listen.

“I think you built this whole image of yourself because it was easier. Women flocked to you, so you gave them what they expected, and along the way, you lost who you really are. Dude, you’re graduating with honors from college. You work on the fucking Tappan Zee Bridge, you’re a master in construction, and now management hired you for their team. I saw you with Luke. He adores you, and that doesn’t surprise me in the least. You’re great with kids, and you’d be the best father in the world.”

Raw emotion cut at him like tiny paper cuts. He wanted to duck his head, walk away, and not deal with his brother’s speech, but he kept still and let himself really hear his brother for the first time.

“Ella sees everything in you that we all see, except for you. The only reason you let yourself make a move on her wasn’t because she suddenly appeared in a skirt and heels. It was because you finally gave yourself permission. You took a chance. But then you spooked and backed off and tried to make yourself think it was better this way. It’s not, Connor. You love Ella. You love Luke. Just let yourself love them, man, and take a shot. What do you really have to lose? A life of loneliness? A life filled with shallow encounters that never scratch the surface? You’re worth more than that.”

As his brother’s words washed over him, his body came to life. The shaking started deep inside and spread throughout his body until the most ridiculous thing began to happen.

Tears stung his eyes.

Oh, fuck no. Not here. He absolutely refused to cry like a pussy in front of his brother in a bar.

Instead, he rubbed his face, took another swig of beer, and cleared his throat. “Okay.”

Nate nodded and sipped at his god-awful feminine cocktail. “Okay.”

A mixture of peace and acceptance flowed through him. His brother was right. He’d made a mistake, but it wasn’t too late yet. He owed them both a chance to fix the wrongs and fight for something he wanted.

He sat with his brother in companionable silence and drank.

Chapter Fourteen

“...who shall measure the heat and violence of a poet's heart when caught and tangled in a woman's body?”—Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own

Ella clasped her hands on top of her desk and swept her gaze over the classroom. Students scribbled furiously, occasionally sneaking glances at the clock. The familiar sounds of low mutters, chairs creaking, and deep sighs echoed in the air. Final exams stressed everyone out, but she was positive she’d done her job and every single student would pass.

Even Connor Dunkle.

Her gaze settled on him for a heart-stopping instant. Those golden locks spilled over his forehead, and his brow was creased in concentration. He wrote in a frenzy, fingers gripped around his pen like a vise, concentration evident in the tight lines of his face.

It had been a week since their night together. Each day was painful, but Ella reminded herself it was better to heal now. At least Luke never got attached to the concept of them as a couple. At least she was the only casualty this time.

A sigh shuddered through her. After the anger passed, only a dull resignation settled in like a bad bruise. Connor had never pretended to be different. He hadn’t promised her a future or even a tomorrow. Oh, she knew he cared about her, but he hadn’t tumbled into love like she had. Eventually, she’d heal and hopefully they could remain friends. Maybe, with time, she’d be able to look into his face without craving to touch him.

Maybe not.

One by one, students finished their exam and dropped it off at her desk, gathered up their stuff and left. The end of the semester was always bittersweet. It reminded her of the passing of time, the growth of her students, and the hope she’d made a slight difference. Her love of literature was a part of her, and if she’d converted just one more person to recognize the beauty of the authors she taught, Ella considered it a life well lived.

“Time’s up,” she announced. Four students remained. She waited while they trudged over, dropping their papers, saying good-bye, and then leaving.

Connor remained behind.

Ella prayed he’d let her be. She was still too raw, like an oozing, open wound refusing to scab. Slowly, he unfurled his length from the chair and walked to her desk. Laid the exam in front of her. Then handed her a stack of papers neatly bound in a folder.

“I finished my extra credit project.”

She nodded, her throat thick with emotion. “Congratulations. I’ll grade it quickly and make sure I send the Registrar your grade so you can prepare for graduation. I have no doubt you did well on the final. You’ve been working hard.”

“Ella. There’s so much I want to say to you.”

“Don’t.” Her voice broke and she let out a small laugh. “You don’t, you don’t need to say anything.”

“I’m asking you to do one thing for me. Read my paper when you get home tonight. I need your feedback.”

“Connor, I’m sure you did a great job.”

“Read it. Tonight. Promise me?”

She gave a jerky nod, unable to speak. Those ocean-blue eyes raked over her face and down her body in a caress, blazing with intensity that made her shake. Then he was gone.

Ella buried her face in her hands. At least she didn’t have to see him in class any longer. That would help.

She picked up the folder and skimmed through it. Neatly typed, with a full bibliography and references, it looked to be perfectly acceptable. She tossed it in the pile and got ready for her next class.

Hours later, she drove home, made dinner, and climbed into her pajamas. Luke had been in a good mood, chattering about school and his two new friends, and she savored his happiness, allowing it to fill her up and soothe her pain. He went upstairs to shower and get ready for bed, and Ella decided to make a cup of tea and curl up on the sofa with a book.

As she made her tea, her gaze fell on her briefcase. Why was Connor so insistent she read his paper tonight? Was he really worried she wouldn’t pass him? A tingle of awareness flowed through her. With a sigh, she retrieved his paper, a red pen, and sat down with her tea. Better to read it now and let him know or he’d worry.

Time ticked. She flipped pages, jotting down notes and growing more impressed by the depth of the work. It was obvious he wasn’t crazy about
To the Lighthouse
, but he seemed to embrace
Jane Eyre
and
Pride and Prejudice
. A smile rested on her lips. He was a closet romantic and didn’t realize it. His overall insights to
A Room of One’s Own
startled her with depth. He’d stripped away his usual mockery of whining women and connected with the isolation and dedication a woman writer had to face; the solitude and willingness to dive deep in order to unearth the emotions needed to bleed on the page.