Page 81 of Freshmeet
“There’s honestly not much to talk about. He left, I stepped up, and now Jamie has the life he deserves. What about you? You said you went on vacation with your mom. Are you two close?”
It was my turn to cringe. “We were, but things changed. Or maybe I finally noticed how it had always been.”
He tilted his head as he ate the last of his roll.
“Last semester, my sorority sister fell off the roof of Frattic and died. That same night, I got busted for an MIP just hours before I was officially twenty-one. Well, when my parents found out, my dad got pretty nasty with me, and she just satthere and agreed.” I took a breath. This wasn’t fun first date stuff, but something about Connor made me want to open up. “Disapproval had always been passive-aggressive in the Tilney house, but last year, my dad let me know just how much of a disappointment I am. And she let him.” Saying it all out loud hurt more than I expected.
Connor frowned and reached out to squeeze my hand.
Embarrassed, I fanned my face, looking up to stop the tears welling in my eyes from falling. “Okay. Next topic.” I scanned the restaurant until I found Kat at the bar chatting with the owner. “Desserts!”
“Are we ready for dessert?” Kat’s barely polite smile fell as she noticed my watery eyes. Shooting Connor a questioning glare, she leaned against the table, hovering over him.
“Kat, it wasn’t him.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I mean it.”
She didn’t become any less suspicious, but she did release Connor from her murder stare. “Dessert?”
“I actually have something back at my place for dessert,” Connor said with a shy smile.
Kat crossed her tattooed arms and craned her neck back. “Oh, do you now?”
“Not like that.” Connor rolled his eyes and put his focus back on me. “My mom makes the best apple pie and homemade vanilla ice cream. I asked her to make us some. It’s not on theme with sushi, but . . .”
A smile crept onto my face. “That sounds delicious.” I looked up at an unimpressed Kat. “Can we get the check?”
She walked away without saying anything, which, under the circumstances, was a small miracle.
“I wasn’t trying to assume anything by having dessert at my place.”
“Don’t worry about it. Pie and ice cream sound great.”
Connor’s tan cheeks darkened. I loved the way he blushed. A lot of guys tried to be hard asses, but he had emotions and let me see them. I didn’t always know the whys, but I figured we were new to each other. We’d get there eventually.
Connor paid, and we walked the three blocks to his apartment. We skirted around the smokers outside the door of his building. When the door closed behind us, the smell of cigarettes lingered in the hallway—one of the perks of living above a bar. Luckily, his apartment smelled as fresh as always.
“Why don’t you go sit down, and I’ll bring you a plate?” Connor placed his hand on the small of my back, encouraging me toward the couch while he went to the kitchen. “You want coffee?”
“Yes, please.” As I spoke, a kettle whistled from the kitchen.
“Be right back.” Some more clanging, and he returned with a French press of coffee and two mismatched mugs. “Just a minute on the coffee.”
He picked up his plate and dived right in. Following his lead, I cut off a piece of pie and nearly died when it hit my tongue. “Oh my god. Connor, this is fantastic.” I shoveled in another bite for emphasis.
“It’s won a blue ribbon.”
“I can’t imagine having a mom that cooks like this.”
Connor poured us each a cup of coffee, and I was blown away by how good it tasted. “What did you put in this coffee?”
“Nothing special. I just grind my own beans, and then the French press does the rest.”
“Is it a McCormick thing to make everything taste delicious?”
He paused with his fork between his teeth. Slowly, he pulled it out, and my eyes devoured the silver sliding against the plump flesh of his bottom lip. The corners of his mouth quirked up, and I quickly looked away.
