Page 66 of Wicked Sexy (Wicked Games 2)
“Don’t you dare,” I say through gritted teeth, staring him down.
He gazes back at me with fire in his eyes. Every inch of his body is filled with tension.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, his voice husky. “But you’re keeping so much to yourself and I have to find out secondhand about your uncle and that you lived with Søren—you won’t just be honest with me. How was I supposed to react?”
“I have been honest with you,” I counter, hearing how tight the words sound because my throat is closing with emotion. “I might be a lot of shitty things, but I’m not a liar!”
Connor blinks. His dark brows draw together. “You’re not one single shitty thing.”
I whisper, “You don’t know me.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No you—”
“You live alone,” he interrupts. “You don’t trust anyone. Your only friend is a fifteen-year-old girl who reminds you of yourself, smart and odd and lonely. Before that, your only friend was a woman whose entire identity was made up…by you. Because she was like you too, completely alone in the world, mistreated and misunderstood, and by helping her, you did what no one had ever taken the time to do for you, namely—be on your team. You’re a team of one. And I suspect that’s because of Søren, because you’ve never gotten past whatever it was between you. Because he somehow taught you that trust is worse than anything else.”
He pauses. “How am I doing so far?”
I swallow around the lump in my throat. The arm I have braced against his chest starts to tremble.
Connor’s voice softens, and so do his eyes. “When the exact opposite is true. Trust is better than anything else. Ryan, that goofball downstairs? I trust him with my life. I’d take a bullet for him. There’s nothing we wouldn’t do for each other. Nothing.”
He reaches out, gently brushes away a lock of hair from my cheek, cups my face in his hand. “I want that for us too.”
I struggle to keep the waver from my voice. “You move pretty fast, soldier. First it was one night you wanted, then one week,
and now it’s bullet-taking trust?” My soft laugh sounds choked. “I think you’ve got the wrong girl.”
“No, I don’t.” He takes my face in both his hands, forces me to meet his eyes. “You can trust me, Tabby. I’m not him. I’ll never lie to you. I’ll never let you down when you need me. I might irritate the shit out of you and say or do something stupid once in a while because I’m a guy and sometimes we’re clueless, but if you want me to, I’ll give you one thousand percent and have your back one thousand percent and be one thousand percent on your team.”
His eyes shine so bright, they look unreal. “I want to be on your team.”
I can’t breathe. My throat has closed. There’s water in my eyes—fucking tears! I want to slap myself.
“You’re just trying to get laid.”
He smiles. “Can you blame me? Look at yourself, baby.”
“I’m not your baby!”
His smile deepens. “I stand corrected. Sugar? Sunshine? Angel?”
I shake my head to clear it and give his chest a push. He steps back, releasing me. He makes no move to come closer again, just keeps watching me with those warm, beautiful eyes.
Eyes that, if I’m not careful, I’ll fall so far into, I’ll never be able to crawl back out.
“Let’s go.” I cross my arms over my chest and stare at the sliding doors.
After a moment of silence, Connor says, “All right.” He pushes the Stop button again, and the car lurches into motion. We stand unspeaking as my heart thunders. When the elevator stops on my floor and the doors open, Connor adds ominously, “But this conversation isn’t over. And remember, I’m not him.”
He steps out of the elevator and strides down the hall.
Nineteen
Tabby
When I wake up, it’s dark outside and I have no idea where I am.
