Page 47 of Whiskey Wednesdays

“In the medical office. If you keep grinding your teeth, you’re going to wear down your molars. And he takes ice baths after practice. Do you know him?”

Connor nodded. “Yeah. I know him well. We used to play together in Vancouver. He suffered a pretty severe injury, and he’s playing on the farm team this season so the professional league can assess his recovery. I’m not sure what’s going to happen with him.”

That’s probably where the scar on his back came from. “That’s too bad.”

Connor narrowed his eyes. “I can be an asshole and I like… certain things. But if I’m an asshole, Titus is the antichrist.”

I had a vague idea of what certain things Connor liked, but I didn’t dare ask him. I was half afraid he’d tell me in explicit detail.

I studied him. “That’s basically what he said about Wyatt.”

“Shit,” Connor bit out. “And how do you know Wyatt?”

Rolling my eyes, I set my wine down. “I work there, remember? And he introduced himself.” Okay, maybe he had a point about Wyatt.

Connor blew out a breath. “Yeah, I bet that fucker did. Titus is right about Wyatt.”

“They can’tallbe assholes. So which one is the bigger asshole, Wyatt or Titus?”

“Wyatt. But I’d prefer if you stayed away from both of them.”

I threw up my hands. “I work there. And I don’t really care what you prefer since I don’t plan to be your flavor of the week.”

This conversation needed to end. I turned around and started looking through his cupboards. “Where are your plates?”

He came up behind me, caging me against the counter. He set his drink down next to mine, then opened the cupboard above me and pulled down four plates.

I froze and sucked in my breath. His arms came down around my sides as he set the plates on the counter in front of me, his body pressing into my back.

“Here are the plates,” he said in my ear. “And I know you’re not a flavor of the week. You're more like a fucking five-star, four-course meal. That I plan to thoroughly enjoy when the time is right.”

Then he stepped back, and I slowly turned around and stared up at him. My heart was pounding, and I couldn’t form a coherent thought.

“Why would you say that to me?” I sounded hoarse. “I shouldn’t like you. Or want you.”

“But you do, Bella. And you can’t deny it.” It wasn’t a question.

I looked up at him but didn’t say anything. Because he was right.

He nodded, as if my reaction confirmed what he already knew.

“I can’t… We don’t…” I sputtered.

He grinned. “You can, and we will. There’s something I have to take care of first. But I’m giving you fair warning.”

“Well, you shouldn’t,” I snapped.

He laughed softly. “I shouldn’t give you fair warning?”

“You shouldn’t want me. Or give me fair warning.” I slipped around him and started pacing. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

He watched me. “Stay away from Titus, for one thing.”

“Damn it, Connor. Stop saying things like that!”

“No.”

I stopped pacing. “No?”

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