Page 97 of Rules of Association

I didn’t want to be here with him. Funny enough, I didn’t want to reenter Connor’s little bubble of friendship either. It felt toorightover there. He seemed too normal, too perfect. Like he was somewhere he belonged rather than playing stupid games and sneaking around with me.

God what was wrong with me?Why did I even care? I shouldn’t. I should feel happy that Con had other friends to share the other parts of himself that I couldn’t offer anything toward. And I did, I just…I just wished I knew exactly what I even offered Connor. Why he was my friend in the first place.

Aside from my one obvious fuck up, I usually have a pretty keen ability to notice when things were off around me. But as Blondie stopped talking entirely and I continued fingering my napkin along the bar, I didn’t even realize someone was behind me untilaftera broad chest was pressed up against my back.

Fluidly and without question, my hand slid around the hilt of the little butter knife beside my napkin. But it relaxed almost immediately when I heard the voice of the chest behind me.

“Put the knife down, Celestia,” Connor said, low and rumbly near my ear. I could feel the reverberations of his deep, familiar voice all along my spine.

“Con?” I asked, less to confirm it was him and more to ask what he was doing over here, away from his friends.

He chuckled, “Were you going to stab my eyes out if it wasn’t me?”

“Was thinking about it,” I admitted.

“I should have never signed you up for those classes. You’re more of a threat now than ever.” He was close to me, leaning over my shoulders and talking close to my ear like our conversation was this secretive private thing rather than a simple little joke. I frowned. I bet he talked about important things with his other friends. Connor leaned even further into me and I fought the urge to sink into his chest. Normally I wouldn’t have a problem doing so, but today, somehow, it felt wrong. “Celestia, what’s wrong?”

I was just about to answer with a lame “nothing” when my blonde headed friend decided to make himself known. “I thought your name was Ceci.”

“It is,” both me and Connor answered.

“Is that short for Celestia, then?” he pressed.

I bristled, the name sounding forced and butchered and tasteless coming from him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Hejustcalled you that,” he said, sounding both insulted and indignant. “You didn’t have a problem with it then.”

I was going to tell him to fuck off with his tone when big arms circled my shoulders. Hands landed on my thighs as Con wrapped me up in a cocoon of him. His head ducked lower, and I could just imagine him glaring at the poor guy.

“She doesn’t have a problem with me touching her either. You want to take a guess what that means, boss?” Con said, andoh my god,had I ever heard his voice so deep and challenging before? I don’t think so. It had me peeking over my shoulder at him to see what his face looked like.

Mad.

You wouldn’t be able to tell it if you didn’t know him. The way his eyebrows pinched intensely or how his jaw set tight and stiff, veins straining along his throat. But I did know him, and for some unknown reason he was irritated. Which did nothing to alleviate my rushing thoughts, only ramping them up further.

Good thing Blondie was here to distract me. With a scowl he straightened up in his seat and glared at me, “You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.”

“I—” I faltered, momentarily distracted by the wordboyfriend, not to mention the way Con’s hands gripping my thighs felt much more provocative than they ought to. Especially as his grip grew tighter and his hands inched upward. Thumbs caressing my inner thighs the way they would if—

“She’s shy,” Con said. I audibly snorted. When he looked to me I could see mischief in his eyes, “Right,Jellybean?”

Nodding my head slowly I agreed with Connor.

Blondie, whose name I remembered was actually Dan, narrowed his eyes at me. “You didn’t seem shy when you swallowed two olives and dared me to get you to leave with me.”

I could feel Connor stiffen behind me.

Oh, so now he was a snitch. I narrowed my eyes and mouthed something that may have started with a “B” and ended with an “itch” to him. He glowered right back. Behind me Connor hummed, but it did not seem as relaxed as before.

“Swallowed, Ceci?”

“Yeah,” Bitchy Dan said. "Whole. Damn, what a waste of two drinks.”

He threw some bills on the table and excused himself from the triangle. Connor didn’t move. Not his body, not his hands, nada. Instead, he just looked at me. “Swallowed, huh?”

“I hate olives.”

“Just don’t eat them then. You don’t have to swallow,” he said like I was the most ridiculous person in the world.

---