Page 30 of Where We Bloom

Connor’s fingers drift through my hair, and I close my eyes. That actually feels good.

So I should tell him to stop.

But I don’t want to. Why do I love it so much when he touches me?

“How did I gethere?”

“I went to the bar to have a drink,” he says. God, he can just play with my hair like that for the rest of my life, and it won’t be long enough. “Saw you there. Some arsehole spiked your drink.”

I frown, but I don’t open my eyes again. When he removes his hand from my hair, I want to pull him back, already feeling the loss of his touch.

“I don’t remember an asshole. Wait, the asshole after the jukebox? The one I almost punched out?”

“No, this was after the girls left, and you sat at the bar.”

I slowly move my head side to side. “I don’t recall that part.”

“That’s not surprising. He pulled you out of the bar and had you up against a truck by the time I got out to you.”

I open one eye and squint up at him. “And you saved me?”

“I stopped something bad from happening to you, aye.”

I blow out a shaky breath as the magnitude of that situation hits me. Fuck, I was almostraped?

The back of my nose starts to tingle as tearsfill my eyes, and then Connor is lying next to me, pulling me against him, and God, it feels sogood.

“Shh, nothing happened, Billie. I promise.”

“I’m so hungover,” I mutter against his chest. I want to melt into him. I want toenjoythis feeling of safety.

But I can’t because it’s not real.

“And I’m so fucking pissed off.”

“You should be angry.” His voice is grim. “Chase Wild will want to talk to you when you feel up to it. And Blake’s been calling throughout the day to check on you.”

“Blake knows?”

“I had to call a doctor,” Connor says. “And he’s your brother.”

I groan, and roll out of his arms, and cover my face with my hands. “That means my whole family knows.”

With a cringe, I sit up and the room spins a bit. I don’t feel drunk anymore, but I’m super woozy, and everything hurts.

And I’m so fucking grumpy.

“Can I get you food? You should drink more water.”

“I want to go home, Connor.”

He’s quiet for a heartbeat. His hand is on my back, and I have to take a deep breath so I don’t launch myself back in his arms and beg him to simply hold me.

This feels too good.

And I don’t trust it.

“I don’t love the idea of you being alone, angel.”

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