Page 150 of Only in Your Dreams

“For someone who’s sworn up and down he no longer cares about what my brother thinks of us, you’re looking a little green.”

“Yeah, well, I’m full of it,” Zac says grimly. “You’re mine, and he’s your brother. Of course, I care what he thinks.”

How does this man make me swoon, even when he talks about Parker?

And how—seriously,how—do I get to be the lucky one who has him?

I rub his forearm, hoping the contact helps calm him. “I realize I should have said this before, but here goes: as much as I’d love to have Parker’s blessing, not having it won’t change a thing between us. I’ll still love you.” I quirk a smile when his shoulders visibly relax. “Even after my little brother kicks your ass.”

Zac snorts. “You came so close to sticking the landing.”

I shrug. “You know full well whose wagon you hitched yours to—”

“Whose wagon is hitched to whose now?”

It’s a bucket of ice water dumped over my head.

I freeze, still in the act of rubbing Zac’s arm, and his gaze drops to watch the way my hand now takes him in a steel grip. Nails dig into his skin.

It can’t be.It can’t be.

I look around slowly, even though I already know what I’m about to see. That it’s Connor standing behind us on the sidewalk. Connor who moves around Zac to appraise me, then bounces an intrigued gaze to Zac, trying to place him. He shoots Zac a pleasant smile when he sees him looking right back.

Zac doesn’t recognize him. It’s only when he looks at me again, presumably noticing the way I’m now standing rod straight, nails damn near piercing his skin, that his face dawns in understanding.

“Hey, Melly,” Connor says, turning that sunny grin on me. I grit my teeth. When I don’t manage a word, he holds out a hand for Zac. “I’m Connor. Melly’s boyfr—”

“Finish that sentence.” Something strange seems to be happening to Zac’s face. It contorts in a way I’ve never seen. His mouth is in a near snarl, a dark cloud eclipsing the light in his eyes. Jaw pulsing angrily. He still hasn’t taken his eyes off Connor. The hands in his pockets have turned to fists. “Finish it. I fucking dare you.”

“Pardon me?” Connor asks giving Zac an odd look.

“Connor, what are you doing back here?” I ask, cutting in quickly.

He shrugs. “I never left. You’re going through something, clearly, and I couldn’t bear being back home without you. Without being around the corner, in case you needed me.”

“You kicked me out of that home when you broke up with me,” I point out. “You have to go. I told you I was done with this—”

“You didn’t mean that.” The condescending prick flashes an apologetic smile at Zac, as though asking him forgiveness for my lapse in judgment. “Besides, don’t you think you owe me at least a conversation after six years?”

That does it for me. The tension in my body snaps.

This absolute. Fucking. Dick.

“I don’t owe you a thing, Connor. Get out of here.”

I catch it. A barely perceptible flicker in his bright expression. His mask slipping as he realizes he’s not getting his way? I’ve never seen it before.

“I just want to talk to you. It’s the right thing to do, Melly.”

“No. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“All I need is five minutes—”

“She said no, motherfucker.” Zac’s voice echoes angrily around us, and a few people across the street pause to stare at us. “You got a problem getting a two-letter word through your head? Because I’ve got a way to make it sink in.”

Connor fixes on the fists in Zac’s pockets. “Who the fuck asked you to get involved?”

Zac’s eyes meet mine, imploring.Ask me to get involved.

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