Page 126 of Empire State Enemies

Connor’s voice stops me in my tracks, stripped of its usual crisp authority. He sounds raw, almost vulnerable.

I turn warily, eyeing his flashy car like an alien invasion on my suburban street, my feelings all in knots.

“I need to see you. Please.”

There’s real urgency in his tone. What the hell has brought on this sudden change? His piercing eyes hold a ragged vulnerability that’s messing with my head in ways I don’t appreciate.

Letting out a sigh that feels way too much like I’m rolling over, I slide into the passenger seat, bracing myself.

“Mind if we just drive for a while?” he asks hoarsely.

I check my watch with a small frown. “I’ve got ten minutes. Grace is waiting on me.”

Ten endless minutes of charged proximity, his masculine scent enveloping me. I grip the leather beneath my legs.

He nods, easing the car into motion. His jaw is granite, eyes stormy and haunted like he’s walked through hell. Dark stubble roughens his skin, and his T-shirt has definitely seen better days.

This isn’t the polished, put-together Connor I know—MisterGQ, always picture-perfect. Now he’s still got that magnetic vibe, but there’s something off, something . . . broken.

Sadness. That’s the word that keeps coming to mind. It’s written all over him in the tightness of his mouth and the shadows in his eyes.

He shoots me a quick, hard-to-read glance before turning his attention back to the road.

The silence in the car feels thick, almost choking. Connor’s usually so direct. But now he stays silent, jaw tight, leaving me in uneasy suspense about why he randomly showed up and what the hell he wants from me.

“I’ve been driving around for hours. Ended up here without realizing,” he eventually says.

“Okay . . .” I reply slowly. “For someone who sees speed limits as mere suggestions, that’s concerning.”

He chuckles, but there’s no real humor in it. “Seems recklessness is my MO these days.”

I can’t help but notice the tiredness shadowing his eyes. “You taking a day off?”

“Just needed some time to myself,” he replies, his grip on the steering wheel betraying tension. “Look, I know you’re not keen on accepting my help. But can I ask a favor?”

I eye him warily. “Depends. What are you asking?”

“Keep me company for a bit. Could really use the distraction right now.” His eyes briefly meet mine. “Feel free to call me an asshole if it makes it easier for you.”

“A distraction? I’m flattered,” I reply, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“That’s not what I . . . damn.” He exhales heavily, some of the fight leaving him. “You’re a good distraction, Lexi. The only distraction I need right now.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m not up for a quickie at your hotel, Connor.”

He looks genuinely taken aback. “No, that’s not what I was getting at. What do you say to a drink at my place?”

I snort. “Thought your bachelor pad was a strict no-women zone.”

“I’m making an exception because I want to see you,” he says quietly.

My heart’s racing like a fool, but my brain’s on high alert. I can’t let my guard down. This is the same guy who said he couldn’t give me more. Now he’s changing the rules, wanting more but only on his terms? Hell no.

“I can’t do it, Connor. It’s like one red flag after another with you. You told me you want nothing from me yet here you are. You kick me out right after we hook up—”

“I regret that,” he cuts in, his voice low and edged with frustration.

“Oh I’m sure you do,” I volley back. “Then you completely ignore me at that interview. Treat me like I’m invisible.”