Page 44 of Conner's Luna

"Fuck!" he turns and slams the flat of his hand into the cement wall behind him. "There must be a reason!" Yup, scary, see?

"Con-" Braxton begins.

"No!" Conner interrupts whatever Braxton was about to say, whirling around and pinning me in place with a desperate look. "How the fuck is he better than me? You tell me, Bailey."

Was Sean just the warm-up? It's a good thing this boy got me ahead of the game in Statistics or I would fail this exam.

I'm going to fall in lust with another man. I just need to find a good candidate. My lust-o-meter can't be completely broken. Sure, right now I only see Trey and Conner, but there are other men. Braxton is gorgeous. He feels like a brother, but that's just one guy out of the sea of boy-fishies.

Conner steps closer to me and takes a deep, slow breath as my heart flutters in response. "Talk to me, babe. Tell me why he's better and don't spare my feelings. Be mean about it."

"Statistically speaking you both have one testicle?"

He cracks a smile. "I fucking love you. Tell me," he demands.

"Objectively?" I say weakly.He loves you as a friend, Bailey Madison Washington. He nods. "Well, you are both attractive. He's more refined, more beautiful, I guess. While you are ruggedly handsome." I'm blunt, it's not as if I will ever date either boy, so what do I care?

Conner smiles weakly and I can see that momentary pain being shoved backward. "You think I'm hot?" he teases. He reaches out for me and the light from the fluorescent bulbs overhead highlights his face.

His chin is bruised and his lower lip is slightly swollen on the right side of his mouth. A trickle of blood has dried along the sharp cut of his jawline.

"What the heck were you doing?" I ask him.

Conner freezes as he takes my backpack from Sean. He's favoring his right side a little. How did I miss this?

"Going to class?" he says, immediately deflecting my question. "You have your final exam today? Prof Janey doesn't want me to stay, but she can kiss my fine, muscular ass?"

"You were fighting," I ignore his inane, sarcastic questions.

His eyes shift away from me. "Nope."

I lift his shirt to find bruises littering his side. Scowling, I poke them with my finger as Conner hisses. "These are not the same," I tell him darkly. They're fresher but not nearly as purple-black and deep as the ones on his abdomen. I trace the ones on his stomach with the tips of my fingers. In fact, those show signs of healing, turning green and yellow at the edges. "And you have a scrape on your chin." I look back up at him with a glare.

Sarj snickers. "You let him get a hit in on your face?"

Conner shrugs, "I was in a hurry to get to class."

"And you reek of cigarette smoke," I scold him. I move closer, so that my nose nearly touches the underside of his chin, and sniff him like they always smell me. "No alcohol, at least."

"Anything else, Mom?" Conner mutters, tugging his shirt out of my grip so he can smooth it back down.

I let go quickly, my face burning as I realize I was just molesting him in the hallway as Trey and Lydia canoodle over in a corner.

I glare at him critically. "You tell me." I ignore the blue eyes glaring at me hotly from across the way. Trey is injured, too, but I harden my heart at the concern I feel for him. He's got Lydia to fawn all over his scrapes and bruises.

Conner splays his hands out to his sides in an innocent gesture. "I'm good to go, Babe. No need to strip search me. Unless you feel it's required."

"Perv," I mutter.

He captures my chin in his fingers. "Hey, look at me," he says softly.

I search his beautiful green eyes for any signs of pain or discomfort but see nothing but calm concern. The heartbroken questions from moments ago have been forgotten or shoved down deep.

"You have your final. You had a rough, shitty day yesterday and I'm betting you didn't sleep well. I'm fine. You need to concentrate, alright?" he says softly.

I nod as much as I can with my chin still caught.

Conner smiles and kisses me softly, chastely. He pulls away and smirks at my dumbfounded expression. "Now you stink, too," he says cheerfully. He tweaks my nose while I sputter and gasp. "Good luck, babe. Concentrate." He spins me around and pats my butt. "Let's go."