Page 101 of Eastern Lights

Thor’s hammer, ma’am.

Thor’s hammer rested inside those pants, and it had powerful force behind it.

Did you know if you looked up the word Connor on Urban Dictionary, you’d find the second definition to say it stood for a huge penis? I couldn’t make that up if I wanted to, and from my own personal observation, it seemed Connor’s name was very fitting for his…assets.

Sometimes, my internet searches took me to odd places.

“Is he seeing someone?” she asked. “I might have to shoot my shot.”

The hairs stood straight up on my body as she said those words. “Uh, yeah, he’s seeing someone,” I lied.

Yup, that’s right, I lied.

I lied because the idea of any woman shooting her shot with my guy—err, myroommate—made a rage begin to rumble inside me. Who did this woman think she was talking about shooting her shot? Talking about his privates? Had she no shame in drooling over a grown man who was simply trying to do his job?

He’s not a piece of meat, lady! He’s a human being! Have some respect.

Also, did she not pick up on my context clues? I’d been throwing them out all day. I wore red lipstick because I’d hoped Connor would notice—which he did. My blouse wasn’t buttoned all the way to the top. Actually, two buttons were undone,thankyouverymuch. Also, my calves were on full display looking amazing in the four-inch heels I’d end up regretting later that night due to foot pain.

For goodness sake! Did she not notice I was on the verge of physically humping his leg on set? I was seconds away from throwing my bra at his face. Myredbra. Red!

How didn’t she see that? Didn’t she pick up the vibes I was spewing?

The level of disrespect was disgusting. Connor Roe was off-limits.

I tilted my head, not taking my eyes away from Connor’s abs.

“Gosh, lucky girl. I’d give anything to have just a day with him.”

“I know, right?”

“And his lips…shit. I bet he could do the craziest things with that mouth of his. I’m probably going to dream of that man tonight.”

Don’t you fucking dare!

I almost felt bad for lying to her, but was it really a lie? She asked if he was seeing someone, and Connor kind of was. Me. He was seeing me. He saw me in the living room, the kitchen, and on the rooftop. He saw me doing yoga some mornings, he saw me at the dining room table at night. You could basically say we were getting pretty serious.

Oh, God. I was losing my marbles. Connor needed to put on a damn shirt ASAP.

For our last location of the day, we moved to Central Park, where Connor wore gray slacks and a button-down white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looked perfect in the most effortless way. I couldn’t help but notice people—men and women—passing by and noting how handsome he was.

It was impossible to not take note. If he hadn’t been in real estate, he could’ve easily been a model.

“Red, get in here,” he said, snapping me from my thoughts that had been all about him. “I need some shots with you.”

I laughed. “Oh no, I’m good. I’m better behind the camera.”

“No. I need shots with the one and only person who’s ever interviewed me. This is a big milestone, so come on.”

“It is a good idea,” Jean agreed. “For the records. Even if not in the magazine, it will be a nice memory. Come on, will you?”

I looked down at my overtly exposed chest, and then I heard Connor groan. “Stop it. You look breathtaking as always,” he said, waving me over.

The hesitation was strong, but I didn’t want to keep the crew from packing up and finishing their day. Maiv would kill me if we went over our time slot and ended up spending more money.

I hurried over to Connor, and he quickly instructed me on the positions we were supposed to take. “Just pretend we are a power couple, like Harry and Meghan, or Beyoncé and Jay-Z,” he whispered. “Stand back to back with me,” he said.

I did as he told me.

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