Page 25

25

STAR

Conor was hot.

I wasn’t just talking appearance-wise which, being an O’Donnelly, was a given. I meant he was like a furnace. He gave off more heat than a radiator, and my feet, always cold, were toasty warm thanks to how I’d tucked them between his calves.

My face was pushed into his side, his arm was around me, and our legs were a tangled knot.

The couch was too small for us, the cushions not wide enough for two people to lie flat, and yet, I hadn’t slept so well in years.

The only reason I’d woken up in the first place was because I knew he was texting someone. His arm was flexing slightly and a soft laugh rumbled from him that made his chest vibrate against my cheek.

For a moment, I just enjoyed myself. His citrusy scent filled my senses, he was warm and comfortable, and he felt so fucking good beneath me that I knew I’d made the right move last night when I’d found him on the couch.

While I could have rested a lot longer, quality usurped quantity with this man.

“Who are you talking to?” I rasped drowsily, nuzzling my nose into his ribs.

“My brothers.”

He answered so easily that I blinked.

Was everything so simple with him?

He’d make a shit spy.

“What are they saying?”

“Declan said Shay got drunk for the first time last night at a party and puked all over the girl he’s got a crush on.”

My lips curved. “Fuck. He’ll be mortified.”

“That’s more of a punishment than what Aela’s got him doing for getting drunk at sixteen…

“Through his dad, Shay’s apparently begging me to eradicate all online footage of it happening from Instagram.”

“That’s extreme.”

“I don’t think he wants Inessa and Camille to know who his crush is.”

Frowning, I asked, “What do your sisters-in-law have to do with anything?”

“Their baby sister is his crush.”

I hooted at that, then something occurred to me. “Don’t they use Snapchat now?”

“Who?”

“Kids?”

“Apparently not. He’s the one who pointed me to Instagram.”

I hummed.

“I’ll check.” His arm flexed some more as he continued typing. “He wants Snapchat erased too.”

I smirked. “The whole site?”

“I don’t think he’d be averse to it crashing forever, no,” he teased.

“What’ll it cost him? You worked out a fee?” I joked.

“When he’s president, he’s got to let me visit NASA. I’m not allowed anywhere near it.”

Taking note of the pout in his voice, it was his words that gave me pause. “ When he’s president?” I took a moment to let my mind filter through those loaded sentences. “Wait, you’re not allowed to visit their museum?”

He huffed. “Why would I visit their museum? I’m talking about Ground Control.”

“You’re a space nerd,” I accused.

“Of course I am,” he scoffed. Then, he admitted, “Didn’t expect to wake up with you on the couch.”

Another woman would have felt awkward.

I was me.

I shrugged. “When you didn’t leave the room last night, I figured you wouldn’t mind the company.”

“I didn’t like leaving you unprotected,” he said apologetically. “I should have asked.”

“You didn’t encroach upon my personal space, Conor. I did. I should have asked you if it was okay to join you.”

I should also have just offered the other side of the king-sized bed like I’d wanted last night.

Stupid nerves.

He cleared his throat. “You have an open invitation to always join me where I’m sleeping.”

I tipped my chin up. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Even though I haven’t worked on atonement?”

“Even though you haven’t worked on atonement.”

“Do you know what I need to do before you’ll forgive me?”

“I have a semblance of an idea.” Yet again, he changed the subject. “I asked Aidan not to tell Savannah that I’d found you.”

I pondered his words. “She can know.”

“She’s upset that you stopped answering her messages.”

“I upset a lot of people.”

“You did. You should work on that.”

I probably should.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked when I didn’t reply to his comment.

“I did. You’re like a heating pad.”

“I run hot.” His shrug jostled me. “Didn’t think I’d spend the night like this.”

“That bad or good?”

“You looking for compliments?”

“Maybe.”

“You know it’s not bad.”

“Is it good though?” I queried wistfully.

“Do you want it to be?”

“I’m not like a regular woman, Conor.”

“No, you’re an alien. Aren’t you glad I’m a space nerd now?”

My lips twitched. “Shut up.”

He chuckled. “No, you shut up. Not like a regular woman? What’s that supposed to mean? You have nuances, Star. If someone gives enough of a fuck about you, then that someone will learn them.

“You think I don’t have nuances of my own? There’s a reason I topped Manhattan’s most eligible bachelor list for so long.”

“What reason?”

His arm tightened around me. “I don’t like people in my space.”

I should probably have cringed considering I’d eaten over half the room on the couch and was making his personal space my own, but I didn’t even bother fidgeting at his words.

I knew that I’d disturbed him. When I’d settled at his side, I’d felt his lips brush the crown of my head, so he could have told me to get back into bed if he’d wanted.

Now, I felt his arm around me.

He was making damn sure that I knew, to him, I wasn’t people.

“Where do you like people?”

“Wherever I’m not. Apart from family. Family, I’m more… hell, shall we say, permissive with?”

“Why?”

“Because you have to let someone in. Plus, I didn’t have a choice. I grew up with them. They were already in. It was nice to get them out when we all moved into our own places, but it’s a habit. Like Katina and Savannah are with you.”

Slowly, I nodded. “I get that.”

“Shay and Jake are different though.”

“You don’t like hanging around them?”

“Nah, I love it. I wasn’t sure if I would because kids aren’t something I’ve ever had much experience with. But Shay’s wicked smart and he has so much potential.

“Jake’s already got an attitude and he’s a toddler. I’m more scared he’ll break than Shay though.”

“Toddlers are resilient.”

“He wails the fucking house down if he bangs his head on something,” he pointed out.

“Wouldn’t you?”

“I swear.”

“He can’t, can he?” I retorted, tone droll. “You swear; he wails.”

“True. But, anyway, I choose my people carefully and it’s hard to become one of them.”

I knew he said that on purpose.

“I don’t deserve to be in your inner circle.”

“I get to decide that. Not you. Anyway, it’s not like you’re arguing. You came to me last night.”

I had.

I didn’t immediately reply, just let his words percolate.

“Where did you pick up on that dialect?”

“The one Anton speaks?” At his hum, I looked down at his forearms. What was it about men’s forearms that were so sexy? Letting my eyes flutter to a close, I answered, “My nanny spoke it. I learned it from her. Have to think Mom picked her for a reason now.”

“What’s the dialect?”

“Chechen.”

“So, the Kuznetsovs don’t originate from Central Russia then. Interesting.”

I sniffed. “It’s an endangered dialect. He could have learned it just because so few people speak it.”

“Maybe.” He cleared his throat. “That wasn’t the answer I expected.”

“Thought the CIA programmed it into my brain?”

“That’d have fewer familial repercussions if it were the truth.”

“There’s no denying that,” I admitted. “Do you believe in kismet?”

His hand and arm had started flexing again so, even with my eyes closed, I knew he was texting his family.

“Umm, not really.”

“Why not?”

“Because my brain’s too logical.”

“It’s not totally logical.”

“It is.”

“Is not.”

“It is!”

“It so isn’t. Otherwise, you’d never have let your da control you,” I grumbled.

He stilled a touch. “That made sense, and you know why.”

“I know it was to keep your brothers safe, but that’s also not logical. They’re grown men. They can care for themselves.”

“No, they think they can. They’ve never had to do shit without me around and that makes all the difference.”

“Love isn’t logical,” I reasoned. “You love them.”

“More than life itself,” he agreed.

“That’s not logical,” I repeated.

“No. But that’s why I hesitated. Smart ass. I UMMED. Remember?”

My lips quirked. “Explain, Mr. Logic.”

“Remind me why I got on a plane for you again?” His huff told me he was teasing, but I couldn’t have misinterpreted his words anyway. Not when my feet shuffled around and he clamped his calves around them to keep them in place. “I didn’t believe in things like kismet before . I don’t wholly now, but?—”

“What changed?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

His voice had darkened, deepened. I gently nipped my bottom lip, bobbing my teeth around the soft flesh I’d trapped.

Me.

He was talking about me.

And I was talking about him.

“When this is over, I want you to meet my family.”

His words didn’t just ram their way home, they slipped under my skin, sank into my muscles, and dispersed through my bloodstream.

“They’ll hate me.”

“They’ll be wary around you until they see why I like you.”

“I’m not even sure why you do,” I said calmly. “I don’t know if I would like me if I were standing in your shoes. It’s one thing to say that we challenge each other, but?—”

“But what? Don’t you think that’s the basis of a friendship?”

“I guess.”

“And don’t you think that the basis of a friendship should be at the heart of every relationship?”

“Maybe.” I rolled onto my side and propped myself up so I could look down at him. His words sent hope flaring inside me and that was the deadliest, most addictive drug alive. There were many things I could have said or done, many apologies I could have made and offered. Instead, I stuck with a truth I knew would resonate with him. “I promise I won’t run again.”

His hand reached for mine. “That’s my favorite kind of promise.”