Page 91 of Our Secret Moments

She laughs so loud I swear my eardrums almost burst. I know my man is funny, but he’s notthatfunny. Connor looks over at me, eyes wide and clearly apologetic.

“Oh, yeah. Don’t worry. You’re still my favourite player. Oliver is such a prude. You’d think he would want some of this–” She gestures to herself and her tiny dress. “But apparently not.”

Connor just blinks at her as I try to burn holes through her back, hoping she’d just disappear. Should I say something? I mean, what’s the worst that could happen. If she wants to blab, it would give me an excuse to tell Nora.

“Okay?” Connor says, his eyebrows scrunched. He’s clearly confused and doesn’t want to talk to her, but he can’t ask her to leave. “Look, Hailey, I’m kinda in the middle of–”

“I said you can call me Hails, last time, remember?” she teases. My temper goes from mild to fucking unbearable when she starts to trail her finger on his arm. I smile, holding my ground as I try to wait her out.

“Well,Hailey,” he bites out with more force and I watch her flinch back.That’s my boy. “I’m trying to tell you that I’m busy and I don’t—”

She cuts him off. “So, who are you kissing at midnight?”

He looks down at her. “Not you,” he replies. He looks at me and his eyes shine before he looks back down at her. “If you could open your eyes, you would have been able to tell we were in the middle of a conversation.”

He manoeuvres away from her to stand beside me, immediately wrapping his arm around me as she spins around and her mouth hangs open. “I’m sorry,” she says with disbelief. “You’re blowing me off for… her?”

My stomach twists. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. I’ve always been pretty confident with my looks, but it took some time to get there. Growing up, I’ve always felt like I wasn’t as pretty as everybody else because I’m not white, blonde and skinny, but that should have never been my thought process. Having darker skin and slight curves makes me beautiful and I’ve learned to love myself in every way that counts.

When I see the way Connor looks at me and compliments me, I feel even more special, so I should not be feeling insecure around her. She’s pretty, undeniably, but I can’t tell if she’s Connor’s type or not. It shouldn’t matter. His type shouldn’t matter to me, since I’m the one he’s chosen. I’m the one he wants. Sometimes I need to get that in my stupid brain.

His arm around my shoulder tightens. “Yes, is that a problem?”

Her eyes widen. “I– I mean…. You could have anyone you want, Con, and you’re with her?”

He lets out a nervous laugh. “I don’t remember saying you could call me ‘Con,’ Hailey. Let’s stick to first names only to make you understand this easier,” he says sternly. His face hardens and I have to hide my grin. I like this side of him a little too much. “When I’m talking to someone else – looking at them like they’re the only girl in the entire room – that should be enough of an indicator that I’m not interested in anything else. In case that isn’t clear, I don’t want to talk to you. Especially after you mentioned how you tried to sleep with my teammate and my friend whilst trying to make a move on me. I hope for all of our sakes that you find something better to do in your spare time, Hailey, because I really don't think you can put this on your CV. And for God’s sake, leave Oli alone. The poor guy is probably frightened of you.”

Holy shit.

I can’t tell what is better: the look of pure horror and embarrassment on her face, or the fact that that is the most I’ve heard Connor talk to another person in months. I just want to jump into his arms and tell him how proud I am of him for sticking up for me when I lost the words.

“Okay, chill,” she scoffs, “that was not needed at all.”

“It was,” he replies. She just blinks at him, her head cocked and eyes still wide. “Come on. Don’t act like this is the first time you’ve tried it. You’re just annoyed that I’ve turned you down more than once and you’ve had your fun with everyone else on the team. Which, by the way, I’m not shaming you for. You do you, you know? Whatever. But when I try to get out of a conversation with you, that doesn’t give you the opportunity to be rude to my girl. I don’t ever want to hear you say a single thing about Cat ever again. Got it?”

My chest blooms with pride. As much as I know I can usually stand my ground, I like the feeling of Connor protecting me like this. I like the way he talks about me and defends me. It makes me feel like I could drop all of my trust into the palm of his hand and never have to worry about it ever again.

“Good to go?” I ask him as her mouth twists in disgust. Connor nods at me and we walk away, faster than we’d both admit, to the other side of the room.

When I turn to lean against the wall, Connor’s body coming closer into mine, I can’t help but laugh. Tears are springing to my eyes by the time he starts to laugh too. “That was insane. I mean, I knew you were popular, but I didn’t know people were that desperate for you.”

His face suddenly turns serious. “You know it’s only you for me, don’t you?”

“I know,” I reply. His eyebrow crunches as if he doesn’t believe me. “I know, Connor.”

“Good,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to the side of my mouth. “What I said was true, too. You’re the only person I see when I walk into a room and you’re there. I mean that. The whole world falls silent when you’re near me, Cat. Do you know how distractingly beautiful you are? Like, I feel light-headed whenever I’m around you. Can you even comprehend how insanely maddening it is to just be in your presence?”

I suck in a breath. “All this talking practice has turned you into a poet, Bailey,” I tease to cover up the intense feeling I have running throughout my entire body.

“Tell me you understand that, Cat, or I’m going to start to feel like I’m going crazy,” he murmurs, his voice so low it makes my stomach summersault.

“I understand,” I murmur and I kiss him on his lips, letting his mouth linger for a second before pulling away. “Are you going to be my midnight kiss, Connie?”

“Yes, Catherine, I’ll be your midnight kiss and every kiss you ever have after that,” he responds, kissing my nose. I immediately scrunch it in response, shaking my head. “I’ll kiss you again at midnight on January first, the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth, the sixth.” He smiles wide. “Stop me, or I’ll keep going,” he murmurs and I shake my head. “Then a big, long one on your birthday, January seventh. Then the eighth, the ninth, the tenth….”

When he continues to list every day of the month until March, I’ve finally gotten sick of listening to him say numbers. We’re still against the wall and I look up into his brown eyes and I swear I see a future in them.

Ourfuture.

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