Page 55 of They All Own Me

"Jesus fuck, woman. Get dressed before I leave without you."

"Empty threats, Connor." I grin, disappearing upstairs. "You'd miss my sparkling personality."

After a normal trip to the pizza place. Without an expected high speed chase or gunfire like I had imagined, were now back at the house. I curl up on one end of the sectional while Connor queues up some action movie I've never heard of.

"Oh hell no, what is that?" I squint at the TV screen as some muscle-bound guy in a tank top shoots up what appears to be an entire city block.

Connor shifts on the couch, his arm brushing against mine. "310 to Yuma. It's a classic."

"A classic what? Tutorial on property damage?" I lean across him, snatching the remote from his grip. His breath catches as my chest presses against his arm. "Sorry buddy, but guest gets to choose."

"You're not a guest, you're a hostage." He makes a half-hearted grab for the remote, but I pull it out of reach.

"A hostage who cooks your meals and reorganized your spice rack." I scroll through the streaming options. "Besides, you owe me for that pizza with anchovies."

"You liked those anchovies."

"That's not the point." I settle back into the cushions, tucking my legs under me. "Aha! The Perfect Match. This is what we're watching."

Connor groans, his head falling back against the couch. "A rom-com? Really?"

"It's about a woman who hires a fake boyfriend to make her ex jealous." I press play before he can object further. "Sound familiar?"

"We didn't hire you, we kidnapped you. Completely different."

"Semantics." I wave my hand dismissively. "Now shush, it's starting."

"If Dom and Isaac happen to unexpectedly walk in on us watching this, I'm telling them you threatened me."

"With what? My deadly cooking skills?"

He snorts, but doesn't protest further as the opening credits roll. I catch him watching me from the corner of his eye, a slight smile playing at his lips.

The pizza box between us is almost empty, and I'm feeling brave enough - or maybe just carb-drunk enough - to make an attempt at normal conversation with Connor. It's been awhile since I've been able to shoot the shit with someone that actually cares what I have to say.

"So, what did little Connor want to be when he grew up?" I tuck my legs under me, settling deeper into the couch cushions. "Before the whole professional criminal thing?"

He pauses mid-bite, those dark eyes finding mine. For a moment, I think he's going to brush me off with some sarcastic comment.

"A cop, actually." His lips quirk up at one corner as he sets down his slice. "Had this whole plan to go to BLET school and everything."

"Seriously?" I lean forward, intrigued. "What happened?"

"Life." He shrugs, but there's tension in his shoulders now. "Dad got sick my senior year. Medical bills piled up. I got angry. Turns out committing crime pays better than those who work to prevent it."

"That's..." I search for the right words. "Actually kind of sweet. In a totally fucked up way."

"Sweet?" He snorts, reaching for his beer. "Nothing sweet about it. Just did what I had to do."

"No, I mean the cop part. I wouldn't have pegged you for a cop, maybe more like a drummer in metal band."

He laughs. "Yeah, well." He picks at the label on his bottle. "Always liked the superiority of it. No matter how shitty of a person you thought you were, it was like people we're expected to respect you. Whether you were worthy of it or not."

"That's kind of deep."

"Yeah," he sighs. "But then the anger didn't die when my dad did, and I started to hate everything and everyone. So wasn't really in the mind space anymore to be an upstanding citizen.

"You don't hate Dom and Isaac though." I say with a smile.

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