Page 74 of Connor

And I haven’t been acting like it.

I’ve spent so much time fighting everything. But Summer’s right. Vic was right. North was right. Even Quinn, who can’t fucking stand me, was right. I needed to grow the fuck up. I needed to start acting like someone who deserved to be here, someone who deserved to be in this kid’s life. Someone who deserved her.

Because I’ve spent too many years looking for something to numb me—women, alcohol, fights, running away. Always running. But there was no running from this. No escaping the weight of what I’ve done. What I’ve created.

And for the first time in my life, I didn’t want to run.

I just wanted to be better.

Summer shifted slightly. She murmured something in her sleep, her body pressed closer to mine. Like she felt it too. And fuck, my heart was hurting with how much I wanted this. How much I needed this.

No more fucking up.

I pressed my lips to her temple, inhaled the soft and familiar scent of her before whispering, "Time to wake up, sunshine."

She groaned as she buried her face in my chest. "No."

"Yes. You’re going to be late for your classes."

She grumbled something I can’t hear, but I caught the way her lips twitch. That alone made me feel something unfamiliar.

Something like hope.

She finally peeked at me, her eyes still heavy with sleep, and fuck, she’s so goddamn beautiful I almost forget what I’m supposed to do. Almost.

Then she blinked, her brows furrowing slightly. "You’re still here?"

That hit somewhere deep. And it fucking killed me that she had to ask.

"Yeah, baby," I brushed my thumb over her hip. "I’m still here."

Her expression flickered —like she doesn’t know whether to believe me or not. I pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth and slid out of bed.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

That woke her up fast.

"What?"

"You heard me."

She’s sitting up now, watching me like I just said I was planning to rob a bank. "I would love anything you make."

***

Twenty minutes later, she was standing in the kitchen, arms crossed, watching me like I’m some kind of alien.

"I love when you cook."

I smirk, flipping the eggs.

She snorted but sat down at the counter. Eggs, toast, bacon—simple, but delicious.

I grabbed my own plate and leaned against the counter.

"Mhhhmmmm."

I grinned. "That good?"

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