Page 13 of Coming Clean

I walked toward Connor, wondering if touching him would be wrong.

Would Connor see it as a come-on? I hadn’t exactly succeeded in hiding my attraction to him.

Fuck it. He looked so despondent, I had to try something.

I laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.

” The words sounded hollow and insignificant compared to Connor’s obvious grief.

Connor put his hand over mine, and I froze, trapped by the warm pressure of his fingers and my own desire.

Connor was thanking me for the comfort. That was all.

I needed to remember that. But how could I when Connor looked up at me, his eyes damp with unshed tears?

Connor allowed me to see his vulnerability; he didn’t try to shake it off like I would’ve expected.

Connor trusted me, and that thought made my chest tight.

I worried I would suffocate from repressed emotion if I kept standing there, but I didn’t care.

I wasn’t moving until Connor wanted me to.

Connor studied me like I was a puzzle, a being he didn’t understand, but not one he found repulsive. Something about me held him mesmerized. After a few seconds, he lifted his other hand and cupped my cheek. I didn’t dare move and spoil the moment.

I’d tried to convince myself the hungry looks Connor had given me were all in my imagination. Now I wasn’t sure.

Connor’s thumb slid back and forth over my cheekbone. I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t get any words out. There were none to describe the feelings Connor’s touch gave me.

“Your skin, it’s so soft,” he whispered. “I’ve been wondering if it would feel as smooth as it looks. And your hair…” He threaded his fingers through my long bangs. “So beautiful.”

I had always thought of my hair as too fine and limp, but Connor made me feel as if it were spun silk. I wanted to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming. Connor was straight. How could he possibly be touching my face, my hair, as if reverently worshipping me?

I watched the line of his throat as he swallowed. Then he spoke again. “I… I’ve always wanted…” He shook his head, and his hands fell to his lap. “I’m sorry.”

Before I could say anything, Connor strode toward the door, each step coming faster until he was running.

I considered going after him but stayed right where he’d left me.

I touched my face. Was it really still warm from Connor’s caresses, or was that my imagination?

Would I ever stop feeling his fingers there and in my hair?

Long after I heard his truck start up and zoom away, I realized he’d left a bag of cleaning supplies in the foyer. Would he come back for them? Not tonight. I was sure of that.

The image of Connor watching me intently stuck with me.

I’d wanted to kiss him more than I’d ever wanted anything.

Why had he run? Did his desire for me scare him?

Make him angry? Embarrass him? If I had kissed him, would he have stayed?

What if he sent Sabrina or one of his other employees to pick up the supplies? What if I never saw him again?

I shook my head. I wouldn’t let that happen. There were too many questions I needed answered. I could return his supplies to him. Then he would have to talk to me, right? It was worth a shot. Not now, though. He needed some time first.

The thought of what David would say about my plan made me cringe. It was exactly like something David would plan himself, but I knew he wouldn’t approve of me doing it. As if David heard me thinking of him, my phone buzzed.

U got planz 2nite

Did David really have to text like a child? Come over. I’ll make dinner.

Ooo. What’s up?

Nothing.

Liar.

Bring good beer and you might find out.

David sent a tongue-sticking-out emoji, and I stuffed my phone in my pocket. How pathetic was it that I needed seduction advice from my straight friend?

Who but a straight guy can help you bag a straight guy?

I brought my hand to my face again and traced the line of my cheekbone just like Connor had.

No way in hell was Connor straight. Accepting my hand on his shoulder or a hug, those were all in the realm of normal for straight-guy friendship, but caressing another man, commenting on his skin, his hair?

That was absolutely not straight behavior.

Danger. Danger.

If Connor was in the closet, which he certainly seemed to be, pursuing him was foolish.

I had sworn I’d never date a closeted man.

I’d worked too hard for my own freedom. Of course, even when my boyfriend was out and proud, I could easily get hurt.

Silas had been as gay as he could be until he decided being straight would be better for his career.

Or rather, pretending to be straight and marrying a woman who wanted his money so badly she didn’t care who he fucked on the side.

But a relationship with Connor wouldn’t be easy, even if it was possible.

I was sure of that. I might have been able to walk away if he was just a hot guy who pushed my buttons, but he was more than that.

Connor was complex, and something about him called to me, made me want to heal him as surely as he wanted to heal his friend Mario.

David would give me no end of grief for that.

I had never been a caretaker. In fact, I didn’t have much use for other people most of the time, David being an exception.

In the past, I had preferred to stay in my cabin writing, reading, and ignoring the world.

Maybe that was the reason I’d only had one relationship, albeit a shitty one, even before Silas had leapt back into the closet.

But I could change, couldn’t I? I could learn how to be more caring if that was what Connor needed. At least, I could try.