Page 10 of Sticking Out

“Oh, I just remembered. Rylee wants us to come to dinner tomorrow.” Her eyes widen. “I mean, if you’re free. If you’re not, I totally get it.”

Jesus, what’s it going to take for her to realize I like her company and don’t want to be bedding a different bunny every night?

“Yeah, I’m free.”

Her eyes widen and when she shakes her head, I can only guess she’s revisiting our bunny conversation—and how I should be out screwing them all. “Conner?—”

“Dani.” Her gaze jerks to mine, and my heart pounds a little faster. I don’t want to give her hope that I’ll do this favor for her. That’s just cruel, because when it comes right down to it, I can’t do this. I won’t. Bad things come in threes and if I mess up our friendship and lose her or even the baby, well, that would be the worst thing that could happen to me. I open my mouth to tell her exactly that, when the words, “Can I think about it?” spills from my lips.

Kill me fucking now.

4

Dani

“If you ask me one more time, I’m going to dump this salad over your head.” Conner holds up the mixed garden salad and threatens me with it. I know he won’t do it, but I get it…stop asking him if dinner with my sister is keeping him from something or someone.

I hold my hands up, palms out. “Okay, sorry. I won’t ask again.” I eye him, my gaze searching his face because maybe I do need to hear it one more time, or even a million times, before I believe it. For the life of me, I can’t understand why he prefers hanging out with me when he could be out with any other woman in the world. Just look at the man. Tall. Dark. Handsome. Everything any woman could want, and believe me, they do want.

“Dani—”

“Grab the raspberry vinaigrette from the fridge. Rylee never has my favorite kind.” He hands me the salad—more like shoves it at me in warning—and bends to get my dressing out of the fridge. Holy, those jeans look good on him, and the last thing I should be doing is staring at his perfect backside. I’m sure I’m only admiring his physique because my body is on hyperdrive from all the hormones the doctor had me taking. With that excuse, I continue to stare…and compare. While Conner and Alec were brothers, they couldn’t have been more different, really.

Alec was athletic in his own way—heck, he became a hockey scout for Harvard—but he never excelled at anything in particular. He was also the valedictorian, graduating at the top of his class, whereas Conner barely scraped by and acted up to get out of class. I used to try to tutor him, but he hated it, and sometimes I think I might have made him feel stupid. Not on purpose, of course.

He sets the dressing on the counter and I put it in my canvas bag. “Do you need to stop at your place for anything?” I ask.

Last night he slept in my spare room, which isn’t unusual. He even keeps clothes here. When he gets tired, he crashes, and he could barely keep his eyes open after we talked last night—after he told me he’d think about it. A little bubble of excitement wells up inside me. I can’t believe he’s actually considering the colossal favor I’m asking. But then, that excitement is replaced by nervousness and maybe even a bout of nausea.

I have to sleep with Conner.

The old-fashioned way…like Grandpa and Grandma did.

Oh, God, what have I gotten myself into?

“Are you okay?”

“What, yeah, why?” I ask and blink rapidly. Did I say any of that out loud?

He puts his big palm on my cheek, which feels rough and warm. “You kind of went a bit pale there.”

“It’s the run,” I explain. “I shouldn’t have been trying to keep up with you earlier.” After we woke up this morning, we ate, lounged, spent some time on our devices scrolling and reading, and after lunch, when he was getting ready for his run, I decided to go with him. I have no idea what I was thinking.

Sympathy moves over his face. “I told you I could slow down.”

“I run after dogs all day. I’m fine.” Talk about backtracking, and yeah, that doesn’t explain why I’m suddenly pale. He looks like he’s about to press. “I have to stop at the Airbnb after dinner. We have a couple of overnighters, and I always just like to check in on their well-being.” Airbnb meaning Air Bark and Breakfast, of course. I remember when Conner told me I was a clever girl when I came up with it.

“I thought you did that with your app.”

“I do, but Marley is new and I want to bring her a coffee and some snacks, just to make sure she feels comfortable.”

He closes one eye in thought. “Marley being…”

“Animal care attendant. Not one of the dogs. Although I’m sure they’d love some snacks too.”

He grins. “That’s nice of you. I’ll come with you.”

I give a fast shake of my head. “You don’t have to do that.”

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