Page 70 of Bozo

I feel heat creeping up my cheeks. “Yes,” I say, unable to keep the smile from my lips. They all stare at me, waiting for me to continue, but I hesitate, unsure of how much to reveal. I'm still getting used to having friends to confide in.

"He did," I admit softly. "But it's complicated."

Mallory raises an eyebrow. "Complicated how? The man's crazy about you, Grá. Anyone with eyes can see that."

I sigh, fiddling with the napkin in front of me. "I'm ready to settle down, start a family. Connor, I don’t think he's there yet." Hell, it was only yesterday he decided that he wanted to be with me, to fully commit. “I’ve loved him for years. I can’t remember a time when I haven’t loved him. He’s never once shown me that he loves me other than as his friend, until yesterday.”

The women exchange glances. Ailbhe leans forward, her voice gentle. "Are you sure about that? Because the way Bozoacted since finding out that you were attacked, it seems like he's in love with you, and more than a friend."

My heart skips a beat. "How has he been acting?"

Hayley chimes in. "He's ready to burn the world down, Grá. He’s not going to stop until he finds out who hurt you, constantly checking in with Jerry for updates. He’s beyond pissed that Jerry never told him about you being injured."

I feel a pang of guilt. "I didn't want to worry him," I murmur.

Chloe shakes her head. "Honey, I get that. I really do. But that man is so in love with you. I think he always has been."

I feel my heart racing at their words. I want it to be true. I have loved Connor long before I really knew what it meant. Our friendship has been something I have cherished, but loving him is different. I know he said he loves me, but I’m not sure if it’s real or if he’s just afraid to lose me completely.

“I don’t know,” I whisper. I’m scared, terrified that this is just a reaction from him because he’s worried about me, and that he’s not truly in love with me. This is too much. I can’t think properly. Hell, I can’t even breathe without fear gripping me tight. “I think it’s best if I go back home.” I don’t want anyone to get hurt, and me being here could cause them all to be caught in the crossfire of whatever the hell those men want from me.

Ailbhe leans forward, her voice gentle. "Grá, honey, I know you're scared, but pushing away the people who care about you isn't the answer. Especially not Bozo."

"She's right," Mallory adds. "When I was going through my own shit, I tried to push everyone away. I kept everyone at arm’s length. It only made things worse. Having Raptor by my side made me stronger."

I feel tears welling up in my eyes again. "I just don't want anyone to get hurt because of me," I whisper.

Chloe squeezes my hand. "That's not your decision to make, sweetie. Bozo's a big boy. He can decide for himself if he wants to be involved."

Mallory nods emphatically. "And trust me, he wants to be involved. That man is head over heels for you, Grá. Don't push him away because you're scared."

I take a deep breath, trying to process their words.

"I just... I don't know what to do," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

Hayley leans in, her eyes soft with understanding. "Talk to him, Grá. Really talk to him. Tell him how you feel, your fears, your hopes. Give him a chance to do the same."

"And if it doesn't work out?" I ask, voicing my deepest fear.

Ailbhe shrugs. "Then at least you'll know. But, honey, I've seen the way that man looks at you. I'd bet my last euro that it'll work out just fine."

Just then, the clubhouse door swings open with a bang. We all turn to look, and my heart nearly stops. Connor stands there, his eyes scanning the room until they land on me. The intensity in his gaze takes my breath away.

"Grá," he says, his voice rough with emotion.

The girls all exchange knowing looks. Mallory gives my hand a squeeze, offering me support. "Go to him, Grá,” she whispers.

I rise to my feet as Connor approaches. He reaches out for my hand and I don’t hesitate in taking it. He leads me outside, the wind howling as we step out of the clubhouse. It’s cold and miserable, but thankfully, it’s not raining.

"Are you okay?" Connor asks, his voice low and husky. His eyes never leave mine, and I can see a mixture of concern and tenderness in them. My heart races.

“Sunshine,” he says thickly. “Please don’t lie to me. Are you in pain?” His hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb gentlycaressing the bruised skin. I wince slightly at the touch, and his eyes darken with anger.

“A little,” I admit. “But I’m okay.”

"I'm going to find who did this to you," he says, his voice a low growl. "And when I do, they'll wish they'd never been born."

I swallow hard, torn between the warmth his protectiveness brings and the fear of what might happen. "Connor, I?—"

---