We walked into my apartment. Connor shut the door behind him. I threw my purse on the table and walked to the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine.
“Are you okay?” Connor asked as he followed closely behind. I scratched my head. “Yeah, I’m fine. Do you want some wine?”
“Ah, no; I really have to go. I have a meeting with someone.”
I rolled my eyes with my back turned to him because I was sure his meeting had to do with getting laid. I opened the bottle, poured some into a glass, and turned around, putting one hand on his chest.
“Thank you, Connor. I want you to know that I truly appreciate you being here for me.”
He brought his hand to my face and gently wiped away a couple of tears that were left with his thumb. “I know you do, and you are welcome.”
Fire swept through my body, heating every part that ached for him at this moment. This was a side of him that was tender and gentle; a side I wanted to know better. My heart started racing, and the butterflies fluttered around every time he touched me. I was vulnerable at this moment, and all I could think about was kissing him passionately. I restrained myself because I wasn’t about to ruin our friendship.
I patted him on the chest. “You better go to your meeting, Mr. Black; it’s rude to keep someone waiting.”
He managed a small smile. “If you need anything, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to call me,” he said as he pressed his lips against my forehead.
“I will. Now, go have a good night.”
I shut the door behind him and sat down with my wine. For someone my age, I had experienced death more times than I should have. I needed to call Peyton and let her know what was going on. As I got up and reached for my phone, there was a knock at the door. I looked out the peephole and saw Connor standing there.
“Hey, what are you doing here?”
He walked inside. “Pack a bag because you’re staying with me tonight.”
I looked at him with a stunned look. “No, I’m not; I’m staying right here.”
He sighed. “Elle, for once, just once, please do as I say.”
“I’m not a child, Connor and, frankly, you can’t order me around. I thought we had this discussion already.”
He walked over to the corner of the room where my easel was and looked at the unfinished painting sitting on it. His tone changed. “I don’t think you should be alone tonight after the news you received, and my place has a guest room. I would feel better knowing you weren’t alone.”
He struggled with every word he just spoke; I now realized that he had a hard time with emotions.
“Okay, Connor. Give me a minute.” He nodded his head, never taking his eyes off the painting.
I threw a few things in a bag and walked over to him where he stood by the easel. “This is what you were drawing in Central Park, isn’t it? The bride and groom in front of the fountain?”
“Yeah, I started painting it that night.”
“From what I can see, you’re a very talented artist.”
“Thanks, Mr. Black. Now, let’s go.” He smiled and took my bag from me; he was full of surprises today.
His penthouse was breathtaking, from the marble floors in the hallway to the white walls and two-story windows. The living room housed a beautiful dark gray sofa, a large, square, wooden table in the center, and two leather wingback chairs in a soft gray shade. Long curtains hung from the floor-to-ceiling-windows, and the marble fireplace was the focal point of the room. Black and white pictures hung vertically on the walls in groups of three with various city scenes from around the world. He came up behind me as I was staring at the pictures.
“Do you like these?”
I smiled. “Yes, they’re beautiful. Where did you get them?”
“I took them.”
I whipped my head around, and the look on my face must have amused him because he started laughing.
“You took these?” I emphasized each word.
“You look so surprised, Ellery. Photography is a hobby of mine.”
“Well, how would I know that, Connor, especially since you refuse to tell me anything about you?”
I stood there and studied the photographs. I smiled, because at that moment, I realized we had something in common; we were both artists. I painted pictures, and he took them.
“Your home is beautiful. Did you decorate it?”
“No, my sister did.”
I looked at him confused. “You have a sister?”
“Yes, and she’s an interior designer. She did this place and my office building.”
I nodded my head. “I get the impression that talent runs in the family.”
He laughed as he walked over to his bar. “Drink?” he asked.
“Shot of Jack, please.”
“Are you sure?” His eyes widened.
“Does that surprise you?”
He reached for a shot glass. “It doesn’t – well, maybe it does. I just don’t know any women who do shots of Jack Daniels straight.”
He handed me the shot glass as I held it up. “You do now.” I threw it back as it burned all the way down, but it felt good.
“I thought you didn’t do sleepovers, Mr. Black?”
He looked at me and grinned. “I don’t, Miss Lane. I never have, but tonight I made an exception for a friend,” he emphasized the word friend, “because I felt she shouldn’t be alone.” He poured another shot and held up the glass.
“Another shot?” he asked.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
He looked at me in that sexy way that made my body ache. “Should I be?”
I threw back the shot and sat down on the couch. Connor walked over with his glass of scotch and sat next to me. “Are you okay?” he asked.
I looked up at him and sighed. “I was just thinking about how I can visit my mom and dad’s graves when I’m back in Michigan.”
I looked at him, blue eyes staring into green, and seriously spoke, “When I die, I don’t want a funeral. I don’t want people staring at my dead body and crying over me. I want to be cremated and have my ashes scattered around Paris.”
Connor stared at me and gave me an irritated look. “Stop talking like that. You have many years to decide what you want.”
“Connor, I’m serious; I want people to drink and celebrate me. I want them to remember the good times, not mourn in the death of me.”
“Okay, you need to stop because you’re talking as if you’re going to die tomorrow.”
“You never know what each day will bring, and that’s why I believe that nothing lasts forever.”
“Okay, I think Mr. Daniels has gotten to you. Let’s get some sleep; I have to work in the morning.”
We walked upstairs, and he showed me to my room. “Good night, Elle, sleep well,” he said as he walked out and towards his bedroom.
“Good night, Connor.”
I changed into my nightshirt and climbed into the comfy king-size bed that occupied the room. I took in the luxurious feel of the satin sheets as I looked around at the classically decorated room. The taupe walls with carved moldings were astounding. There was a beige dresser with a large, round mirror that sat above it and matching nightstands on each side of the bed. The large window had built-in bookcases on each side, with a window seat that was covered with the same material as the bed comforter. I could curl up here and stay forever, residing in its beauty and comfort.
It was too late to call Peyton, so I decided to text her and let her know what was going on.
“I got some terrible news today. My cousin called me earlier to let me know that my aunt and uncle died in a car accident. I’ll be going back to Michigan in a couple of days for the funeral. I wanted you to know so that you didn’t worry.”
“OMG, I’m so sorry, Elle. Do you want me to come over? You shouldn’t be alone.”
“I’m fine. I’m staying at Connor’s tonight; he was with me when I got the call.”
“Seriously, Elle? What the hell is going on between the two of you? Did you sleep with him?”
“NO! We’re just friends, and I’m staying in the guest room.”
“Shut the fuck up. Go get into that man’s bed, and let him make you forget about everything bad—at least for tonight.”
“LOL! Good night, Peyton. I’ll keep in touch.”
“Live, Elle! Have you ever heard of friends with benefits? Nighty night…”
She was right. When I was with Connor he did make me forget about everything bad, but the ironic thing was that he was the one who was bad for me. One of us would have our heart broken by the other, and I couldn’t have that in my life right now.