Page 94 of Rules of Association

And occupied.

Realization hit me like a smack to the face. Con hadn’t asked me to come out with him, he had asked me tojoinhim. Him and whoever the hell these people were. Friends of his I assumed. Friends I wanted to meet? Absolutely not. Not when I wasn’t feeling like myself and definitely not when he had told me jack-shit about them.

This is why he was here already, and knew where to go without asking the hostess,andwhy he was dressed so nicely come to think of it—with his jeans and an open button down over a t-shirt. While I was there in the same white bodysuit and loose denim shorts I had worn to work that day. My hair was down, but who knew what it looked like. And I didn’t even get to put on a decent bra.

Realizing what was happening, I didn’t even hesitate. I turned around and started making my way back the way we came. I’m pretty sure I made eye contact with one of the guys sitting on the long couch. I didn’t give a shit. I was not doing this.

Connor and I were not those kinds of friends. Or at least I thought we weren’t. We didn’t meet each other’sother friendsand do the whole commingling thing. It was enough that I had him. I had no idea what would happen if we suddenly started introducing others into the mix.

Quick and easy, Connor caught my retreating form by the hips and pulled me back. Turning me toward the group, he situated me in front of his chest and started walking us forward.

In my ear he spoke softly, “Come sit. These are some friends of mine. You’ll like them, I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t think so.”

“But youwouldapparently ambush me with them,” I said. And I couldn’t decide what my voice sounded like, but it was not normal.

“Don’t be mad. You’ve turned down every attempt I’ve made at hanging out outside the house. I had to try.”

I sighed because it was true. Connor had done a damn good job at barging in lately. Insisting on checking up on me, making sure I was okay, and making sure I wasn’t alone at night in the city. All things I was actually pretty grateful for. But when it came to anything other than dinner and curling up at one of our respective homes, I hadn’t been up for it.

Which is why my sigh was defeated as I said, “I know, and I’m not mad. I just—you didn’t warn me.”

“Why would I? We drink here all the time.”

I wrinkled my nose. He wasn’t getting it. “Yeah, but not withactual people. You know I’m not socialized properly.”

He snorted, “I am an actual person Cee, and I thought we’ve already covered the topic of you being perfect. Besides, they’re my friends, they won’t care either way. They will love you as much as I do.”

Oh how he glazed over the “P” word so carelessly. And don’t even get me started on the “L” one. It spread warmth throughout my body from head to toe, causing my grumble to lose some of its grumpiness as I went on, “Of course I’m perfect, but I didn’t put my civil pantson tonight. I might be a bitch.”

And Connor, as if there weren’t other people in this goddamn room, tightened his paw sized grip on my hips as he leaned close to whisper, “I don’t care what you are or what you do, I still want you here. Even if you get drunk enough to do that thing where your civil pants turn into invisible pants and you—”

My elbow found his gut before he could finish whatever it was he was going to say, causing him to laugh happily and heartily as we reached the group.

He didn’t let go of me as we approached his friends and I couldn’t help but wonder what they must think about his hands splayed possessively over me like this. He apparently didn’t think anything of it, sounding casual and happy as we came to a stop before the small group and continued to talk only to me. “Now smile big and say hello.”

I scowled. Half because of the bullshit he was putting me through and half because there he went saying things that made me squirm again. Things that made my heart feel like it was doing something that was not anatomically possible in the slightest.

“Guys, this is the friend Ceci I told you about,” Con said. Moving his hands from my hips (thank God), he curled them around my biceps and gave them a quick squeeze as he introduced me. My pulse spiked. Even though he was only touching my arms now, he was holding me close to his front like he wanted to keep me close.

I gulped, trying to right the pounding of my heart, and the extra beat made me miss my cue to say hello. Thankfully, a brunette with a martini in her hand leaned forward and took over for me.

“Oh Connor, she’s so little!” Martini girl said.

“Very little,” the man I most definitely made eye contact with agreed. Looking from me to Connor, he looked like he was measuring the height difference between us. He had an English accent and wore a turtleneck even though it was like seventy degrees out, reminding me of Pau.

“She’salso standing right here,” I said before I could stop myself. And when eyebrows raised around the small table, I scrunched my face into a ‘very nice to meet you’ smile.

Connor, who was always on my side, rubbed those thumbs soothingly along my skin as if to say‘down girl’before offering his friends a small smile. “She’s big where it counts.”

“Where, the ass?” I mumbled under my breath, remembering how he said I had “cushion” back there.

I peeked behind myself quickly. I was only kidding, but the way he looked down at me, eyes burning with something I wasn’t sure how to place, I’m not surehewas kidding as he lowered his voice and said, “Exactly. Now sit that ass down and be nice. I already ordered what you like.”

* * *

Like Connor said, his friends were actually great. I guess Con was one of those people who was good at choosing his people.

Malcolm, who was the blunt British man seated on the couch, had apparently been Connor’s roommate in college. I knew he went to Oxford for his undergrad, but I guess the fact that he studied out of the country somewhere so prestigious had never really stuck for me until I heard him volleying back and forth about foreign policy and state politics like it was small talk.

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