Page 77 of Ripped

“It’s a surprise!” Connor’s eyes are shining as he takes my hand and drags me toward the subway.

The surprise takes us to Prospect Park and a group of strangers mingling around a lamppost.

“Wait here.” Connor leaves me to check in with the organizer.

My eyes track Connor as he comes toward me. He’s so gorgeous with the sun glinting off his hair and his smile makes my heart sing. I take his hand and pull him to me. I still have no idea why we’re in the park, but it doesn’t matter, as long as I have Connor by my side.

The organizer calls for our attention and then explains what we’ll be doing for the afternoon. Foraging for edible plants, then going to a kitchen nearby to cook what we find into a meal.

“Is that okay?” Connor asks softly. “It’s like, healthy and stuff.”

I plant a big fat kiss on Connor’s lips. God, I love this boy so much.

The thought ripples through me and settles deep in my soul. Yes, I do love Connor. With my whole heart. There’s no point in denying it anymore, no point in second-guessing myself. I think I may have loved him since that first night at Mars when he wouldn’t let go of me in the staff break room. I definitely loved him after he nursed me back to health.

The idea of loving someone else after Roger, of opening myself up again… it’s terrifying. What if I lose him too? Does this mean I love Roger less? But it’s not about the fear, I realize. It’s about the potential of something beautiful and what Connor and I have growing between us is nothing short of dazzling.

“It’s perfect.”

A tiny bit of pink highlights Connor’s cheeks and I argue myself down from taking him home right this minute. As it is, I don’t catch much of what our tour guide says. I’m too preoccupied with watching Connor as he roots through the foliage. He’s adorable as he compares pictures on his phone to the plants growing out of the ground.

We’re being led out of the park to the kitchen when Connor suddenly ducks behind me.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Keep going.” Connor keeps his head down and urges me to walk faster.

I scan the area around us but I don’t see anyone I recognize. “Connor? What’s going on?”

“Nothing! It’s just…” He peeks around my shoulder and I follow his line of sight to a group of people throwing a frisbee around on the grass. “Miles and Wyatt are over there. That’s… the friends I used to hang out with.”

My arm wraps around him automatically, keeping him behind me like those monsters are going to storm over here and hurt him somehow. I recognize Miles now. He’s all wrapped up in another guy and they’re laughing like they’re having the time of their lives. Well, good for them. Because so are we.

I maneuver us toward the other side of the group we’re with so there’s no chance of Connor being spotted. “You okay?”

Connor’s not smiling the way he was a minute ago, but he doesn’t look upset either. Still, they’ve stolen his sunshine away and that’s not okay with me. “Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t care anymore. I just don’t wanna have to talk to them.”

That’s more than fair. I wouldn’t want him talking to them either. “What about the other people? You said they were your friends?” He hasn’t talked about any of them before and I’ve never thought too much about it.

Connor shrugs and scrunches up his face. “Yeah, but they’re more Miles’s friends than mine. Anyway, I don’t really miss any of them.” He smiles at me and I search for any tension in his expression. I don’t find any.

It doesn’t sit well with me though. Connor ended up with me that fateful night because he didn’t have anywhere else to go, no other friends he felt comfortable enough calling up. If there’s anything I’ve learned in the last several years, anything that Connor’s reminded me of, it’s that having a community is important. And a community of just me isn’t enough, even if I do want to keep Connor all to myself.

I file the thought away for later as we arrive at a stainless-steel teaching kitchen and are given matching aprons. Connor insists on photos—for his office, he says—and so I obediently pose for as many as he wants.

By the time we get home, I’m desperate to strip Connor down and tumble into bed. I push him up against the wall the second the front door is closed and Connor groans into my mouth. He tastes like the creamy mushroom sauce we made with way too much butter. I chase every last drop of it through his mouth.

“Happy birthday, Donnie,” he says when I finally let us up for air.

I stare into his eyes, feeling like my heart is bursting, feeling like I’m so full of joy I’m going to drown in it. “I love you.”

Connor blinks, then gasps. He looks stunned. “Really?”

I chuckle, because of course that’s how he reacts. “Yeah, really. I really, really love you.”

His bottom lip comes out and his eyes grow watery with tears. “I love you too.”

I know he does but hearing it does something to me. It changes me.

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