Page 22 of Lies Beneath Secrets (Skeleton Crew #1)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Lauren
Conner and I have been laughing and playing cards for the past hour. He’s listening to every word I say and laughing at every lame joke I try to make. “You’re quite funny, you know?” he says, making me pause mid-sentence.
“Eli always tells me I can’t tell a joke to save my life,” I say, unsure why I’m even bringing him up. I’m having a nice evening; I don’t need to dampen it with thoughts of him.
“Are you two dating?”
“No. He comes to the diner a lot with his partner. We’ve gone on a few dates, but nothing has happened between us,” I tell him honestly.
“Seems like he hasn’t gotten that message,” Conner lays down a card, then moves a peg on the cribbage board.
“I probably could be a little more direct with him but when I get that chance, I always wind up sugar coating it, telling him thank you for a great date when it really wasn’t. I just don’t want to hurt his feelings, I guess. I mean, he’s a good enough guy.” I shrug.
“Good enough? You deserve far more than good enough, Lauren,” he tells me, his gaze holding mine for far too long.
“Oh! Thirty-one!” I lay down my card, breaking the growing tension into pieces. I do a little dance on the couch, then move my peg. We count our cards and with a big smile, I dance a little more and put my peg in the winning space. “And that’s how it’s done.”
“I’d demand a rematch but beating my ass in cribbage three times is enough for me for one night.” Conner laughs and shuffles the cards before putting them back into the box. “Haven’t played that in years. Surprised I still know how. We mostly play poker.”
“We?” He pauses for a moment, then nods.
“Yeah, me and Knox.” He puts the cribbage board and cards back where he saw me get it from and comes back to the couch. “Thank you for letting me crash your night. I really needed a distraction.” He reaches over and tugs on my foot a little.
“Yeah, of course. What are neighbors for?” The small act of affection makes me want to jump off the couch and leave the room, just like every other time I get too close to this man. It got better the more time we’ve spent together but now, after not seeing him for so long, it’s come back full swing. I’m caught between wanting to wrap myself around him and running as fast as I can in the opposite direction. The man turns me on but scares the hell out of me. “I need to go to the bathroom,” I say and hop up from the couch.
I dart off to the bathroom across from my bedroom and close the door behind me. Trying my best to calm myself down, I look in the mirror and roll my eyes. My mascara has smeared all under my eyes. “Oh, that’s fucking great,” I tell myself and take a cotton ball to my makeup remover, then trace it underneath my eyes. I run my hands under cold water, then touch my cheeks with them for a minute before doing it two more times.
“Get your butt out there; you can’t hide in here forever,” I tell myself and take a deep calming breath before walking back out into the apartment. Conner is in the kitchen with both of the glasses we used to drink the vodka. My stomach drops a little because he must be leaving. “Taking off?” I ask and grab my glass to fill up with water. Why do I want him to stay?
“Maybe.” He gives me a smile and steps back so I can get by him to the sink. As usual, he doesn’t step as far away as he could. I’m forced to brush alongside his chest. The contact sends a tingle up my spine. His heat seeps into my back as I fill up my glass with water and gulp it down.
I swear he steps a little bit closer the longer I stand there with my back to him. I’m caught between wanting to turn around and wanting to just wait it out. See if he leaves .
Turning around wins out and when I force my head to tip back, the sight of him staring down at me with a hungry gaze meets me head on.
Without a thought, my hand not holding the now-empty glass reaches out and touches his chest. The feel of him nearly makes me pull back. Maybe it’s the vodka, or maybe it’s the fact I’ve just suddenly decided that being scared isn’t so scary anymore, I find my other hand placing the glass on the counter. It joins the wandering one, now flat against his chest. The black tee shirt he’s wearing is stretched across what I can only guess is a muscled chest that only exists in movies and on magazine covers. Not right here in front of me. Conner closes his eyes and sucks in a long deep breath, then lets it out just as slow.
“What are you doing Lauren?” he asks in almost a whisper, eyes still closed.
“Are you more than good enough?” I ask, getting his eyes to shoot open.
“I’m so far from good enough, you probably should be running.” His words come out as if he means them to be a warning. With such a sober and stoic expression on his face, I almost believe him but like any other woman in my position, I choose to ignore his warning.
“I can decide that for myself.” He lets out a groan and places his hands on top of mine. Just when I think he’s about to pull me in closer, he gently grips my hands and pulls them away from his chest.
“I’m not going to let you though. Decide for yourself, that is.” He takes a step back and releases my hands, effectively dousing any liquid courage I might have had. “I need to go.” He doesn’t wait for a response before stepping even further away and walking out of my apartment. I stand there in my kitchen for far too long, wondering what it was I could have done wrong. My heart pounds in my chest, and I take in one deep breath after another to try to calm myself.
“It was nothing to do with you, Lauren,” I say to myself and keep breathing. “Nothing to do with you,” I repeat over and over. My hand clenches with the need to flick my lighter and burn the inside of my thigh. “Nothing to do with you,” I say it again as I force air into my lungs. Breathing becomes easier the longer I stand there. Then my heart finally calms in my chest.
Maybe it was ten seconds, could have even been ten minutes, but I push past the bad thoughts trying to creep in and walk over to lock the door. I reach for the top lock, but I don’t get the chance to lock it before it’s pushed open. At first, my reaction is to scream but when Conner’s face comes into my line of sight, everything in me screeches to a halt. “I’m a fucking idiot,” he tells me, then brings his hands to my face, palming my cheeks before crashing my mouth to his.