Page 18 of Ripped

“I’m surprised he even remembers the place. He hasn’t used his membership in ages.”

“But he knows you go regularly.”

Connor shrugs and his shoulder brushes up against my stomach. I don’t move away and neither does he.

“I guess.”

“Have you spoken with him today?”

Connor shakes his head again and tilts it to the side so it rests against my chest. Any illusion that we’re trying to keep our distance goes up in smoke. I hold him to me, my chin to my chest so his hair tickles my nose. The oxytocin pouring into my system makes everything kind of fuzzy and soft. Connor’s warm against me, heavy against me, and when he loops his arm around my waist to fit us closer together, I nearly let out a moan. I don’t know if I’m giving him comfort or if he’s giving me comfort. Either way, it’s astonishingly peaceful to hold him like that.

“They’ve been messaging me, but I haven’t responded to anything,” Connor says softly, his eyelashes fluttering closed.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

A crease forms between his brows and his bottom lip sticks out. “I kinda do though.”

He nuzzles my chest and it sparks a fire that travels through my limbs. It climbs to my head, making me dizzy with want, and pools in my groin, bathing my dick in heat. I shift to avoid poking Connor with my hard-on. He shifts too, pulling me closer.

This is so inappropriate. I shouldn’t be holding him like this. I shouldn’t even be touching him. Not if something as innocuous as his cheek on my chest is going to give me a raging boner. And especially not when he’s sorting through the mess of a cheating boyfriend.

I tear myself out of his arms and feel utterly bereft when I’m out of touching range. It’s ridiculous, how much I’m thirsting for him. Just being in the same room with his little pout and his thick body is driving me right to the edge. I haven’t been this horny since puberty and it’s more than embarrassing.

I pick up the chef’s knife and start cutting the red pepper and broccoli—something, anything to keep my hands occupied so I don’t reach for him again. “You can respond to them when you want to. Do it on your own terms, not on theirs.”

Connor’s hands are on the counter and he’s twisting his fingers into a knot. “There’s this grant that Wyatt and I applied for. They want to interview us as part of the application process. We need to respond and schedule a time for the interview.”

I keep chopping, sneaking glances in Connor’s direction when I’m not in danger of slicing through a finger. “What’s the grant for?” I realize I don’t even know what Connor does for work or why he would need any kind of grant.

“Film production.” His voice gets smaller and smaller as he speaks. “Wyatt and I met in film school and we’ve been trying to get this project off the ground for ages.”

“You’re a filmmaker.” I would never have guessed that on my own, but now that Connor’s said it, I can see it. There’s a flair about him, something enigmatic that keeps drawing me in.

“A wannabe filmmaker. My day job is at a commercial production company. We make videos for companies. Training videos or event videos or promotional videos for websites. Sometimes actual commercials.”

I switch out the chef’s knife and cutting board to slice beef into bite-sized chunks. “Is that not filmmaking?”

Connor’s mouth twists and he scrunches up his nose like he smells something rancid. “Not really? At least, that’s not the type of thing I wanna make.”

“And what would you rather be making?”

“Horror movies.”

I don’t hide my reaction very well. Connor takes one look at my face and snickers.

“You don’t like horror movies?”

An icy shiver runs down my back. “Ew, no. Why would I want to watch something that scares the crap out of me?”

“Because it’s fun.”

I stare at him incredulously. Who knew cute-as-pie Connor would be into scary movies? “You like being scared?”

“Yeah.” Connor’s eyes are dancing and his smile is mischievous. “Especially when you’re curled up on the couch and a cute guy hides his face behind your shoulder because he’s too afraid to watch.”

I see where he’s going with this. “Right, and when the shoulder isn’t enough, you suggest he hides his face in your crotch.”

Connor’s laugh hits me right where he was rubbing his face earlier. The middle of my chest tingles like I’ve been zapped and the sensation skitters across my skin. I want to wrap myself up in that laugh. I want to press my mouth to his and swallow it down.

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