Page 27 of Not a Perfect Save

Guilt fills me. I never thought Connor might actually be worried. I swallow and pull away. “I went for a coffee. Caffeine.”

I’m huffing and puffing like a wolf hunting pigs from making my way up the stairs. I was away an entire hour—I had to hobble to the corner cafe and back on my crutches. The time in-between was spent looking for answers in the coffee grounds at the bottom of a paper cup.

And just when I’d made up my mind never to see Connor again, I find him waiting outside the open door to my apartment. It’s like the gods of the coffee beans are having a little laugh, telling me I didn’t know how to interpret a sign when I see one.

Squawking comes through my alarm system before he can say more. My eyes fly up to the robotic eye, bouncing around like a cyclops on crack.

“Your parents,” Connor says.

Fucci.

Retrieving my phone from him, I deactivate the camera and alarm, then call my parents back and calm them down, using the tone I perfected as a kid. “Mom, Dad, I swear, I’m fine.” I channel good-girl Ella all the while maintaining an annoyed expression for Connor, even though I am hard-pressed to keep it up. I can’t believe he’s here. It’s like karma has thrown him in my path. Not that I believe in fate.

“Yes, thank goodness for the alarm,” I say, now speaking to my near-hysterical mother. “Mom! I’m fine. Seriously. No UFOs have come to carry me off just yet.” I roll my eyes and catch Connor staring at me. He shakes his head but I see a hint of a grin flicker on his lips. I can’t help but respond with a small smile of my own. I think I’m supposed to be upset that he’s here, uninvited. That he’s barged into my apartment and caused this ruckus.

Finally, I end the call and face him fully.

“Why are you really here?” I ask, while greedily sucking in every detail of Connor’s presence—disheveled blond hair, overnight stubble, a thin jersey over worn jeans, even in the freezing cold.

“Because I was worried.” He looks at me, incredulous, his words are a striking bowling ball, and I’m a teetering pin.

“Why do you care?” I try to keep the panic out of my tone.

“I like you.”

Well, there’s nothing coy aboutthat. “You don’t know me!” I croak.

Connor crosses his arms and stares me down. “Oh, no? I know that you were sick growing up, you love your family, even if they drive you nuts, and more than anything, you want to be independent—also, your favorite ice cream is pistachio. You like ripping things up and reassembling them. And your favorite color is blue.”

“It’s orange.”

“Liar,” he says, but the small smile reappears on his mouth. “You also think Groundhog Day is a real holiday. And your taste in food is… peculiar.”

My happiness is momentarily tamped by that blasphemy. “All that information was shared under questionable circumstances.” I pause and wrinkle my nose at him. “And my taste in food is impeccable.”

Blood thuds in my ears, I’m not sure what I’m saying. I knew there was some kind of attraction there. We kissed and all that, but to blatantly say it out loud like that? Has he never heard about building up to the moment? Talk about dropping a bomb on a woman. I need to think. Maybe he hit his head too?

I’m not stupid enough to think the attraction between us is more than temporary—even if he does.

I risk a glance at him from under my lashes and immediately wish I hadn’t. His confidence is disturbing. But I’d be stupid not to take advantage of this… aberration. Maybe I can gorge on all the ice cream flavors? Have a fling. Indulge until I feel sick, and I’ll never want another bite ever again. No one said anything about forever.

Yes. I can control this situation. This situation is my burbitch.

“Don’t you have a job to get to?” I tap my watchless wrist with my phone.

He rubs the back of his neck. “Fuck.” An agonized expression crosses his features, as if he doesn’t want to leave. I am strangely flattered as I watch him war with himself before his face goes resolute.

“I’m coming back.” His chin is set in defiance.

“Fine.”

He blinks. “Fine?”

“Fine. Come over tomorrow. Bring food.” I wrinkle my nose at him. “Maybe something you think is less… peculiar.”

There’s surprise in Connor’s gaze. “You’ll be here?”

I nod. He examines me for the truth. I don’t know if either of us knows what’s going on here, but now’s not the time to figure things out. He lets me walk him out.

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