I nodded once. "If that’s how you want it."
She crossed her arms, defensive, hurting. "It is."
I tilted my head, studying her. Hiding my panic as I tried to find something to change her mind, and then, I shouldn’t have said it, but—"But if that kid is mine, you can’t expect me to leave you alone."
Her breath hitched. "What?"
My eyes darkened. "You want me gone? Fine. But I’m not just gonna disappear while you’re pregnant. I need to make sure you’re taking care of it."
Summer stared at me, her pulse fluttering at her throat. And for the first time, I saw real fear in her eyes. Not fear of me. But fear of what I meant. Fear of what this meant. And that was the first thing that made me feel like I was still in control.
Chapter 16
Summer
I knew he was still here before I even stepped into the kitchen. The smell of toasted bread, butter, and something else—probably ham, maybe turkey—hit me the second I opened my front door. I’d left this morning, assuming he would too, but Connor had to prove me wrong every since time, didn’t he?
I kicked off my shoes, rubbing my temple as I walked into the kitchen, my bookbag slumping to the floor with a dull thud. And just like I knew he would, he was there, standing at the counter, making himself at home.
Like he belonged.
Like we hadn’t fought. Like he hadn’t forced his way into my apartment. Like I hadn’t meant it when I told him I was done. Like we hadn’t had filthy, monkey sex on my kitchen counter.
God, I hope he cleaned that counter. It was sticky and gross when I saw it last. I didn’t even check this morning, too embarrassed about what I let him do to me. Dear god, what was wrong with me?
Connor didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge me at all as I walked toward the fridge. My scowlgrew more intense when I saw he had, in fact, cleaned the damn counter. Instead of saying anything though, he finished making a sandwich, cut it in half, and handed me a plate without a word.
I stared at it.
I should have refused. Should have shoved it back into his chest and told him to get the fuck out.
But my stomach was already twisting with hunger, and I hated how casual, how familiar it all felt.
He knew I’d eat. He knew I wouldn’t just throw it out. He knew that, no matter how much I wanted to hate him, I wouldn’t throw out a sandwich. Not when, at one point, he’d been the onemaking me lunch and dinner sandwiches with Vic when Mom and Dad were out of town.
And that pissed me off more than anything.
I grabbed the plate, turned away without thanking him, and leaned against the counter, taking a small bite even as resentment boiled under my skin.
Connor, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate. He finished making his own sandwich, then dropped onto my couch like it was his own personal throne, legs spread, completely at ease.
Like we hadn’t been at each other’s throats. Like we weren’t falling apart at the seams. Like I didn’t still need him, pussy throbbing, even after all the rough, hot sex last night—or maybe because of it.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to swallow before speaking. "You’re not staying here."
He looked up, unfazed. "Yes, I am."
I gritted my teeth. God, he was so fucking stubborn. Fine, if he didn’t want to go after I explicitly told him to, then I could just get rid of him by making his life hell.
"If you’re going to be in my life, then we’re setting some fucking rules."
Connor smirked, tilting his head. "Like what? You gonna make me sign a contract?"
I ignored the jab. "Like you sleeping on the couch. Like you not pulling the shit you did last night. Like you not thinking you can just control me because of the baby."
Connor breathed out sharply. It seemed like guilt flickered behind his eyes, but he didn’t argue.
"I don’t want to control you, Summer."