Page 68 of The Rejected Omega

“We’ll see.”

He drapes the blanket on the back of the couch over me and pushes my hair behind my ears. His fingers go to my neck, tracing the bruised glands with his thumbs.

“I marked you up.”

“It’s okay.”

“I wasn’t apologizing. I like seeing my marks on you.”

Fuck, that was hot. I clench my eyes shut. “You can’t say things like that, Connor.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll start to believe them.”

My stomach growls, and Connor heads to the kitchen. His place is nice, but soulless. Open floor plan with lots of sleek angles and black and chrome accents. He hasn’t bothered to decorate. Like he isn’t planning on staying long.

“I’ve got eggs, bacon, OJ. Suit you?”

“Yes please.”

“Scrambled? Medium well?”

“How come you remember all the things I like and the ways I like them?”

“Cause I love you, Birdy.”

My heart flops in my chest like a fish out of water. He says it so casually, it makes me question if he even realizeswhathe said. Does he expect me to forget by the morning?WillI forget?

It should feel like a revelation, but it doesn’t.Of coursewe love each other.

Like friends. That’s what he meant. My heart is leaping into my throat for no goddamn reason.

I doze wrapped in the scent of his blanket until Connor brings me a plate of deliciousness, then we eat together on the couch. I scarf everything down.

“It’s a one-bedroom, but you can take the bed. The couch sleeps alright.”

I look at him skeptically. “There’s no way you fit on this couch. Sleep in the bed with me.”

I don’t know what makes me say it. The alcohol—it has to be. I’m playing with fucking fire. I’m in his domain, surrounded by his scent, asking him to sleep in the same bed as me.

Connor stills. I watch the flex of his throat as he swallows.

He’s going to deny me. There’s no way he’ll agree.

“You sure?”

I nod silently, stunned.

I follow Connor into his room. Things feel awkward between us in a way they never have before.

“You wanna shower, or?—?”

I shake my head. “Maybe in the morning. I’m beat.”

“You sleeping in that?”

I glance down at my bandage dress. Usually I sleep in the buff, but even stripping down to my bra and panties feels risqué right now.

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