Page 46 of Beautiful Lies
“Doesn’t smoking defeat the purpose?”
“You know me. I’m a walking contradiction.” He took a drag on his cigarette and exhaled out the side of his mouth, the smoke drifting in the opposite direction of me. “So, what’s up, besides my dick?”
It was almost an invitation to look. Anyone would. The bulge in his jeans was hard to miss. Connor was… well-endowed. Yep, he had a big dick and he knew how to use it. Oh, did he ever.
“Are you checking me out?” he asked.
“No.” I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms, ignoring his chuckle. I side-eyed him. Smoking wasn’t supposed to be sexy. But when Connor smoked, it was sexy. When he inhaled, his eyes narrowed, the little lines around his eyes crinkling.
“Okay, listen, I’ve got something to tell you. Don’t freak out. I’m going to help you.”
“Help me do what?” he teased. “Are you going to get me off? My hand could use a rest.”
I stifled a groan. I didn’t want to think about him using his hand. Stay focused.
“I’ve booked the gallery for mid-December—”
“What the fuck?” He glared at me. I squared my shoulders and held my ground.
“It will be okay,” I said, trying to reassure him.
“Okay?” he asked incredulously. “I’ve got a shitload of things to deal with. I can’t—”
“You can. You’re an amazing artist, Connor. And like I said, you’re fast. You can do graffiti on canvases or… would you use canvases?” He was still glaring at me. I waved my hand in the air. “Anyway, it’ll be just like throwing something up on a wall. Except you won’t need to worry about getting caught.”
He took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke in my direction.
“Rude,” I said, waving it away.
“Do you want me to fail, Ava?” he asked, his voice low and angry. But I heard the hurt in his voice, too. “Is that why you did this?”
“No. I don’t want you to fail. How could you think that?”
He snorted. “No idea. Maybe because you booked a fucking gallery, two months from now. Thanks for having my back,friend.”
“You’re not going to fail. I know you can do this. I watched you tattooing that guy and—”
“I’m not worried about the tattooing,” he said through gritted teeth. “Do you know how hard I need to work to stay away from drugs? I ran into Danny—” He stopped himself before giving the full name, but I knew exactly who he was talking about. Danny Vargas, scum of the earth. “He said he could hook me up. The people I used to know… the ones who are still using… they don’t want me to be clean. It pisses them off.”
“But you said no, right?”
He shook his head. “You still feel the need to ask. I guess that says it all.”
He tossed his cigarette on the ground and lit another one as he crushed the first one under the sole of his boot. I bit my lip to stop myself from calling him out on it. Smoking wasn’t great, but it was better than what he did before.
“I just… I worry about you, okay? Danny Vargas is a horrible human being. I blame him for getting you hooked—”
“Nobody forced me to do drugs. It was my choice. But now… I am trying so damn hard to make sure I don’t slip. And until just recently, I didn’t have Killian’s support. I didn’t have yours… hell, I still don’t know if I do. I don’t know where I stand with you on any given day. You love me. You hate me. Maybe you don’t even like me. What’s the point of being friends or anything else if you can’t even trust me?”
I want to trust you. “I’ll do whatever I can to support you. I’ll help you with the paperwork and the accounting... I can do an hour a day and I can take care of your social—”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I need to do this on my own.”
“No, you don’t. I want to help you. Don’t let your stubborn pride get in the way.”
He clenched his jaw. I sighed. I still knew him so well. Which meant I also knew how to get through to him.
“Remember Jake Masters?”
