Wicked Sexy (Wicked Games #2)(60)

When I open my mouth to retort, Connor interrupts me.

“I know him, Tabby. This is as far as he’ll be pushed.” A muscle in his jaw jumps. “And I’m not taking a chance with your safety.”

A noise is growing in my head. It sounds like a swarm of bees after someone has kicked their hive. “You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I say, holding his gaze. “Just because we’ve slept together doesn’t give you any right to tell me—”

“I care about you.” His voice is big and loud in the small room.

For so many reasons, that leaves me breathless. Unable to meet his eyes any longer, I turn away. When I can finally talk, it sounds like I’ve swallowed gravel.

“I know you have a hero complex, but I don’t need you to save me. That includes saving me from myself.”

He mutters an oath under his breath. “You can’t do it, can you? You just can’t let anyone in.”

He’s bitterly angry with me. It’s obvious from his tone. That hurts so much, I find it hard to say what I know I have to say. But if I let this thing between us go any further, I’ll hate myself.

I can’t drag him down with me. I have to cut the cord before it’s too late.

In a flat, emotionless voice, I set him loose.

“It’s not your business what I can or can’t do. Why do I have to keep explaining this to you? There’s nothing between us, Connor. We have nothing in common. I thought we were both adults, on the same page about our agreement, but I have to admit I totally regret it, because it’s given you some kind of bullshit idea that you’re entitled to an opinion about the choices I make.”

I gather my courage, take a deep breath, and turn to look at him.

“Stop trying to convince yourself this thing between us is anything other than sex. It isn’t. You said it yourself. I’m a team of one.” I pause and then drive home the final nail in the coffin. “And that’s how I want it to stay. Forever. So back off.”

His silence burns and lasts an agonizingly long time. A vein in his neck throbs. One of his fingers intermittently twitches.

Finally—so, so softly—he says, “I’ve always admired you. Respected you, for everything you are. But right now, I’m so disappointed in you, it’s making me sick to my stomach.”

I force myself to hold his gaze steadily, to keep my breathing slow and even, to stand upright when it feels like I might at any moment fall to the floor.

Without another word, Connor turns on his heel and walks out, leaving the door open behind him.

And what’s left of my heart breaks a little bit more.





Twenty-Two





Connor




As soon as I enter the room, I know something has happened in my brief absence. The mood has turned from excitement to frustration.

Almost as big as my own.

I walk over to Ryan. He’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, watching me with narrowed blue eyes.

“What’s going on?” I jerk my chin in O’Doul’s direction. He’s huddled with Chan in a corner of the room, gesticulating and shaking his head, obviously annoyed.

“You tell me. Why do you look like your face was on fire and someone tried to put it out with a hammer?”

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. “Here’s the part where I tell you to mind your own business, brother.”

Ryan bristles. “I told that broad in no uncertain terms that if she f*cks with you—”

I clap my hand on his shoulder and look him in the eye. “Number one, don’t call her a broad. It’s disrespectful. Number two, dial it down a few thousand notches. I don’t like you threatening her.” My voice softens. “Number three, I appreciate your concern, but this is one battle I’ve gotta face on my own.”

His look sours. “Yeah, well, it looks to me like you’re walkin’ into this battle with a slingshot while the other side has a mile-wide f*ckin’ lineup of tanks pointed at your head.”

I slowly nod. “Sounds about right.”

“Listen, brother—”

“I’m a big boy, Ryan,” I say, my voice nearly a growl in my throat. “Leave it alone.”

He cocks his head, folds his tattooed arms across his chest, and thoughtfully strokes his goatee like he does whenever he’s trying to suss something out. After a second, he says, “Huh. Never thought I’d see the day.”

I drop my hand from his shoulder. “Don’t even want to know what that means. And don’t tell me either!” I snap when he opens his mouth to say more.

He shrugs. “Suit yourself, ‘big boy.’” Then he smirks at me. “Just make sure I get an invitation to the wedding.”

“Gimme a f*ckin’ break, will you?” I say, scowling.

Ryan has the balls to laugh.

Then O’Doul calls Tabby’s name. Unsmiling, she appears in the doorway of the adjacent office, looking like she’d rather be anyplace else than here. She leans against the door frame and looks him up and down with her lip curled and her nose wrinkled, a hand on her hip.

Ryan says under his breath, “At least you’re not the only one on her shit list.”

I mutter, “Shut up.”