“Top floor, third door on your right.” Kenny sighs, “But if anyone asks, I didn’t know shit about this.”
“Smart choice.” I walk past him and make my way upstairs. I’m about to raise my hand and knock when I decide to just open the door. If Connor didn’t want me to come and check on him, he wouldn’t have called me. Okay, technicallyhetexted me, andIcalled him.
But he was wasted. I’m just here to make sure he hasn’t choked on his own vomit or something. I’d hate for him to die and then people find out I was the last person he spoke to. Considering we’re not supposed to be speaking to each other at all.
There’s a lamp turned on, casting a low light over the room. And Connor is sitting in a chair, slumped back. Passed out. I walk over and kick at his shin, probably harder than I should. “Wake up.”
“Huh?” His eyes flutter open and a smile spreads across his face. “Mo mhuirnín, good dream.”
“How much did you drink?” I ask him.
Connor slips as he tries to sit higher in the chair and shakes his head. “Ut-uh, this is the part of my dream where you start getting naked, SB.”
“SB?” I ask.
“Sleeping Beauty, my Sleeping Beauty.” He smirks. “You’re so beautiful,mo mhuirnín.”
“Okay, Prince Charming, you seem fine, so I’m gonna leave you to it. Try not to drown in your own vomit.” As I turn to leave, Connor reaches out and grabs hold of my wrist.
“Why do you have a gun?” he asks me.
“Why are you drunk?”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you. Thought it’d help,” he says, standing up and not letting go of my wrist.
“Did it?”
“Not even a little.” He shakes his head and pulls me towards the bed.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting on that bed with you.” He smirks at me. “This is my dream. I get to say how it goes.”
“This isn’t a dream, Connor, and you’re drunk.”
“Mmm, come on, Aurora. Just lie here with me,” he says, pulling me down on top of him as he falls onto the mattress. “That’s better.” Connor rolls over to his side. I fall next to him. His fingers reach up and brush my hair out of my face. “It didn’t work.”
“What didn’t work?”
“The month. You left for a whole month and told me to forget. It didn’t work.”
I smile. I don’t know why, but I like his drunken honesty, his vulnerability. “I didn’t forget either.”
“I know. I’m not easily forgettable. And you gave me your V-card, babe. That’s something you’ll never forget.” He smirks at me.
“I’m still holding a gun you know. I could wipe that stupid smile off your face with the pull of a trigger,” I tell him.
“You’re not going to shoot me.” His hand moves to my leg, and his fingers start trailing up and down, leaving goose bumps on my skin.
“You seem pretty sure about that.” I raise the barrel, pressing the cold metal against his chest. The safety is on.I’m not completely insane.
“I am sure,” he says. “But let’s put that down, because I’m going to make you come. It’s been too fucking long. And I don’t want you accidentally pulling the trigger when your body explodes.”
I let Connor take the gun from my hand. He places it on the bedside table while rolling his body on top of mine. “Connor, you’re drunk. We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“I’m not that drunk, and we most certainly should be doing this.”
“I’m not taking advantage of you,” I tell him, while my hands do the opposite, snaking under his shirt and roaming over his abs.