N erves skittered through Connor as he stood at Miranda’s front door. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to be there or not. No, that wasn’t quite right. He liked Miranda. She was sweet and funny, a great girl, but he wasn’t sure how far to take things between them. They’d only been on a few dates, so it wasn’t like they were in a relationship and they certainly hadn’t talked about being exclusive. But it still didn’t sit right with Connor to start anything physical between them when he was unsure of how in to her he was. And knowing how fucked up he was about what’d gone down after Levi’s party and the strain it’d put them under was doing his head in. He couldn’t focus long enough to make a decision. Was he happy to go out, leaving Katy and Levi to indulge in their shopping expedition? Or did he want to crawl into a hole? God, what if they ask for a tutorial? What was I thinking? It didn’t matter though. There was no way his crush on his best mate was reciprocated—Levi had made it clear enough when he’d stumbled back off the bed and looked at him horrified—and as if it would have been anyway. Connor had to suck it up and move on.
He raised his hand to knock, but before he connected with the dark timber front door, it swung open. “Hi,” Miranda greeted him. “Were you planning on standing out there all night or were you gonna knock? I don’t bite you know.” Her smile turned wicked, and she wiggled her eyebrows. “Most of the time.” Connor couldn’t help but laugh.
“Hey, Miranda. Thanks for the invitation.” He held up a bottle of wine. “Wasn’t sure what we were ordering for dinner, but this is a good one.”
“I’ve cooked. We’re not ordering.” She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Come on in, and you can pour me some while I finish dinner.” He followed her through the living room into the kitchen, and she pointed out the cupboard where the glasses were to him. Connor poured two while Miranda finished cooking on the stovetop, then dished up two plates of grilled chicken, salad, and crusty bread. The crisp white he’d brought over was a pretty decent match to their meal.
Conversation flowed easily while they ate and long after they’d finished the cherry chocolate mousse, they still sat at the table talking. He was having a good time, and that surprised him more than it should have. Miranda was great; he liked being around her. He could definitely see them being good friends, especially with so much in common—music, food, movies, and she was a runner too.
“Want another glass? You don’t have to drive home tonight, do you?” Miranda went to the fridge and pulled out another bottle, and Connor stood as she left the table.
“You want me to stay the night?” he asked, uncertain of how he should answer. His feelings were still up in the air, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt her.
Returning to the table with the bottle, she looked up at him. “Hey, I like you. I think you like me. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to hook up. I’m good with casual for the moment, but if it turns into more, I’m fine with that too.”
Connor smiled, relief coursing through him. He might not be ready to hand her his heart, but a night with her certainly wouldn’t be a hardship. Reaching out, he took her hand and squeezed. “I’ve had fun, Miranda.” He’d barely uttered the words before she was stepping forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her mouth to his. Connor swiped his tongue across her bottom lip, and she opened to him. Deepening the kiss, Connor surrendered and enjoyed the touch of the first woman he’d been with in far too long. He directed Miranda to the couch and guided her down onto the soft cushions. Propping himself up so his weight didn’t crush her, Connor looked at her and found himself wishing he was with Katy. He closed his eyes and forced the thought from his head. He couldn’t go there—it wasn’t fair to Miranda, and he had to face the fact that Katy would never be his, that Levi wouldn’t be either.
Connor leaned in again and nipped Miranda’s throat before kissing a line down to her collarbone and back up to her mouth. He let out an “oomph” when Miranda pushed him off her and straddled him, tugging off his Henley and tossing it aside. Chest to chest, arousal flared inside him. Kisses and teasing licks against his throat had him shifting, rocking his hips to get some friction against his painfully rigid length.
Miranda hopped off him and slid to her knees before him. After pulling open his button fly, she curled her fingers around him. Her hand on his dick, even with the thin barrier of his boxers between them, had Connor thrusting into her grip. He hissed when cool air hit his heated skin as she yanked down his underwear exposing his cock. Her startled, “oh,” had him cracking open his eyes. She was eyeing his piercing thoughtfully, biting her bottom lip. He was beyond the point of caring whether she liked them or not—if she wanted his Prince Albert gone, he’d take it out. He’d do almost anything as long as she put her hands back on him.
Connor arched into her grip as she curled her hand around the base of his cock and stroked him, leaning down to tentatively lick along his length. A strangled moan left his lips when hers closed around the head of his shaft, and her tongue flicked the ring protruding from it. Soft fingertips trailing down under his sack, brushing up against the barbell piercing, had Connor shuddering. He involuntarily punched his hips forward as Miranda massaged his balls, forcing himself deeper into her mouth. Connor balled his hands into fists and fought off the orgasm threatening to erupt from him, and the raw need to pump into the hot, wet cavern engulfing him while he chased his orgasm. He had to be gentle, logically he knew that—his piercing could easily chip a tooth—but goddamn he was so close. So. Fucking. Close.
Picturing the old lady from There’s Something About Mary pulled him back from the edge—the dog licking into her mouth was enough to make him gag, to pull him back from teetering on the precipice. A memory of Katy’s reaction when he’d told her and Levi how he stopped himself from coming popped into his head. Connor gasped, an electric shock pulsing through his body with the thoughts of the beautiful woman he’d been lusting over for years and her hot-as-sin boyfriend. Images of them filled his mind’s eye, flashing before him. Katy’s smile. Levi’s laugh. Katy dancing as she cooked. Levi lifting weights. Katy sleep ruffled and in need of coffee. Levi sprawled out, naked on his bed, fast asleep. Connor moaned, the pictures of them turning erotic: Katy kneeling between his legs sucking his cock and palming his balls; his lips on her pussy, licking and spearing inside her with his tongue until she came, while Levi pressed into him from behind, sliding his cock deep inside, anchoring Connor with strong arms against his broad chest. “Fuck, Lee. Gonna come.” His balls drew up tight, the tingling heat at the base of his spine unstoppable as his cock throbbed, cum erupting from him in thick white ribbons across his abs. The waves of Connor’s orgasm crashed over him and he cried out.
“Lee, Katy.”
Where a second before there were warm bodies pressed against him, cold air filled the space. Boneless and still humming from his epic orgasm, Connor cracked his eyes open and tried to figure out where they went. But Miranda standing rigid and shaking had him scrambling to sit up. She looked fucking furious—her jaw was clenched, and anger flashed in her eyes.
“Get out of my house you piece o’shit.”
“What?” He blinked, totally surprised at her outburst. What had he done wrong?
“I won’t be some ruse for you to hide behind.” She pointed to the door and in a deathly calm voice added, “Get the fuck outta my house.”
“Huh? Ruse? What’re you goin’ on about?”
“You didn’t even feel me stop touching you, did you?” she spat. “You were so damn wrapped up in your fantasy that you didn’t feel me let go and get up. You yelled out Levi and Katy’s names for fuck’s sake.” Her voice shook with anger as she glared at him, disgusted. “You wanna fuck both of them. You can’t even make up your mind on who you want. I won’t be the girl you’re with for show while you’re lookin’ to fuck more than one person on the side, especially not my friends. Get outta my house.”
Stunned, he sat on the couch, his mind furiously ticking over everything that had just happened. What the fuck? He’d heard their names. No, he’d said their names. Confusion and shame welled up inside him like a lead balloon. Seeing her shaking with fury, her face red, eyes sparking with anger, made Connor’s gut flip sickeningly. “Fuck,” he cursed, shaking his head in self-disgust. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. Why the fuck did I start something with her when I knew I was so fucked up inside? He scrubbed a hand over his hair.
“Miranda, I’m sorry. I... I’m so sorry,” Connor said quietly. He picked up his clothes and turned to her, ready to apologize again. He didn’t want her to change her mind—he didn’t deserve that. But he did want to try to set things right, to tell her he was an arse.
“Don’t, Connor. Just go.” She sounded tired, resigned. He nodded and, head hung low, walked out. Palming his keys, he considered driving home, but he promised Levi he wouldn’t go back there until the morning. There was no way he would risk walking in on them testing out what they’d bought. No fucking way would he be able to hold himself back.
Driving, he pulled into a car park at the beach. He hadn’t had a destination in mind while he drove; he just found himself there. Just north of Surfers Paradise it was quiet. The place drew him in, helped him think, helped him make sense of the mess his heart had become. He looked out over the glass-like surface shimmering in the light of the three-quarter moon. Connor sat down on the sand, his arms wrapped around his legs. One thing was obvious to him—he didn’t have a crush on his best friends; it was a whole lot more than that. So what were his options? Did he try to ignore it, keep living with them like the third wheel he was? It’d destroy any chance of him ever finding happiness. There was no way he could let himself become intimate with another person after treating Miranda so badly. And where would that leave him? He was resigning himself to becoming a cat lady if he pulled away from everyone. He could move out, get his own place, and put some distance between them. But even that would only work until he saw them again, until the craving reignited within him, leaving him shaking and desperate for a fix. Like a damn addict, he’d keep going back for more until he was a shell of himself. He deserved better than that—he’d done his time in hell, and he wasn’t going to live it again if he could help it. If he left, started afresh, could he be happy? Could he walk away, once again leaving the two people who meant the world to him?
Connor squinted, pulling down his shades to block the sun’s morning rays as his limited options rolled through his mind on an endless loop. The warmth of the dawn sun hit his skin and Connor stretched his aching muscles. He’d been there for hours, mesmerized by the lapping water, working through the thoughts bouncing around in his head and warring with his heart. He still didn’t know what to do, and the uncertainty was like an anvil on his shoulders.
Connor went back to his car to get his sneakers from his gym bag and change into a pair of shorts. Setting out, he jogged along the boardwalk, dodging the early morning crowd of people. Dog walkers, surfers carrying boards and personal trainers working out with their clients dotted the paths. But Connor ignored the lot, trying to get some clarity.
He was lost in his own world until, “Yo, Con, wait up,” broke through into his thoughts. He recognized that voice. Spinning around, he saw Katy’s cousin Nick, and his best mate, Mike, catching up to him.
“Hey, guys. How’s it hangin’?”
“Good, mate, you?” Nick answered.
“Fuckin’ dandy.” Connor scowled, kicking himself for being a dick.
Nick huffed out a laugh. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Nope.” He didn’t mean to sound so churlish, but the last thing he wanted to do was pour his heart out to Nick and a man he’d only met for the first time at Levi’s birthday the week before.
“Good. We can pick up the pace then,” Mike replied, saving him from deflecting the conversation any more. They ran together, feet pounding the path. On their left was the ocean, the morning swell picking up, the waves glittering in the bright sunlight. Surfers rode them into shore, carving and cutting along them. Dogs and their owners ran along the shoreline. On the right were the towers—hotels and apartments, office buildings—and older beach huts, the surf club and oceanfront mansions.
Clear blue skies and a warm breeze should have made for a beautiful run—flawless like the day was—but Connor blocked it all out. Seeing the happy people around him, living and loving life made the knife in his chest plunge deeper. Why had he gone and let his heart run away with him? Why couldn’t he love someone like Miranda? Someone uncomplicated? Available even? But no, as if it wasn’t bad enough that he was in love with one person already in a relationship, he’d gone and fallen for two. And better yet, they were together, and talk about perfect for each other. This was why he’d left in the first place, why he’d run. It’d held off the yearning for the woman he couldn’t have but had never obliterated the desire. Coming home was a bad idea. He’d known it, but like a blind fool, he’d tried to fulfil Rob’s dying wish.
Connor picked up the pace, pushing himself and trying to outrun the pain until sweat soaked his skin. Kilometres passed under the steady beat of his running shoes, his two silent companions matching him step for step until finally, he couldn’t run anymore. Out of breath and desperate for water, Connor followed Mike and Nick into the beachside park, collapsing against a tall palm, the smooth bark pressing against his back. Exhaustion coursed through him, the lactic acid in his muscles making his limbs unbearably heavy.
“Fuck me, haven’t done a workout like that since I’ve been home.” Sweat dripped off his brow as he bent over, resting his hands on his knees, trying to drag air into his lungs. “Burns like a mother.”
Nick stretched his legs, leaning against the same palm Connor was. “What are you running from, mate?” he gasped.
“Fuck,” Connor groaned, frustrated.
“You can talk to me, to us, if you need to, bud. We’ll always listen.”
Connor huffed out a humourless laugh. “Yeah, you guys’ll be so understanding of my fucked up life.”
Mike’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “Don’t be a prick or so fuckin’ judgemental of us.”
“That’s the fucking problem though isn’t it—the judgement.” Connor threw his hands up in the air and paced. “Knowing that the one thing I want is wrong. Goddammit,” he shouted, kicking at a stone and sending it flying. Hands in his hair, he tugged on the curls that’d grown since he’d returned home. “I can’t handle it anymore. I just can’t do it.”
“What can’t you do, Con?” Nick asked gently.
“No, it’s what I’m gonna do. I’ve gotta leave the Coast, and not come back. Cut all contact, maybe.” He shook his head. There was no way he’d do that. He couldn’t even if he wanted to—Katy would never stand for it. “I can’t see any other way to move on. I can’t get ‘em outta my head, ya know?”
“Don’t do anything rash, Con. Can you open up more to Katy and Lee? Maybe work through whatever it is you’re dealing with, with them?” When Connor shook his head, his shoulders sagging, Nick continued, “Get away if you need to but don’t just leave. You three have been friends forever. It’ll break their hearts if you walk,” Nick counselled him.
“I know, but I can’t….” He trailed off, raking his fingers through his hair and wiping the sweat from his brow.
“Look, I know we don’t really know each other, but maybe that’s what you need—someone independent, detached. Come hang at my place for a while,” Mike offered.
“Nah, mate. I don’t wanna get in your way.” Connor shook his head and pressed his lips into a sad smile. “Didn’t you say last weekend that your girl was flying in today? I’m not gonna let her come all the way across the damn country and have me sittin’ there like an idiot while you want some alone time. And don’t you have kids? They’ll probably be there too. Nah, you don’t want me around. I’ll just check into a cheap hotel somewhere.”
Nick rested his hand on Connor’s shoulder and squeezed gently, getting his attention. The other man had this way about him which commanded attention. Connor shouldn’t have been surprised—Nick was a lawyer and a damn good one at that. He exuded confidence without being arrogant, strength without being overbearing. “Come to my place. It’s big enough. You won’t even know we’re there most of the time and you can spend as long as you need to figure things out. There’s no way I’m letting you stay in a hotel when we live down the beach from them. And you aren’t gonna make the decision to leave your friends, your home while you’re alone. I’ll give you my spare key when we get back to the cars.” A good ten kilometres away. Connor groaned and scrubbed a hand across his forehead.
“Are you sure? I don’t wanna put you out, but I could do with somewhere to hide out and think for a few days. Get my head on right.”
“You won’t be in the way, and Em would love to have you too.” Nick smiled at him encouragingly.
“It would be kinda nice having someone independent to talk to. But don’t worry, I won’t get in the way and like I said, it’ll only be for a few days.” Connor sighed, looking out over the ocean he loved. It was the first time he’d ever been sad seeing it. “Just until I figure out where to move to.”
“That’s our Uber.” Mike pointed to the bright green hatch pulling up at the curb driven by the cute blonde. “How about we head on back to the cars and you two can work out the deets?”
Connor smiled gratefully at his friend, before falling into step between them.
*****
Four days. Four days had passed since he’d seen Katy and Levi. He was like a recovering addict counting the number of day’s he’d been clean. It was probably as torturous too. Between the two of them, the messages had been constant. He’d deflected most of them, answering with just enough detail that they wouldn’t worry, but at the same time letting them assume he was still at Miranda’s house. It was the coward’s way out, but he didn’t think he’d be able to explain why he couldn’t see them anymore.
Now, sitting in his therapist’s office, he showed her Levi’s last message. We’re glad ur happy with M. Guess ur living there now. The first time he’d read it, he’d sucked in a breath and swallowed around the lump in his throat. Seeing it again didn’t make it any easier. The pain in his chest still so fucking raw. The text was innocent, yet filled with assumptions that were entirely wrong. The misunderstanding didn’t surprise him, but now they thought he’d moved out. Are they happy I’m not there anymore? That they’ve got their lives back, without me in it? The thought broke him. Loneliness as vast as the Sahara Desert swallowed him whole and sucked the life out of him. He’d been staying with friends, and had gone to group sessions every day, but he was so alone. He couldn’t shake the dark storm cloud that hung over him. He was barely eating, he drank far too much and was lethargic.
“Is M for Miranda? You didn’t tell me that you two were serious.”
“We aren’t anything.”
“Why not?” she asked, sitting back in the armchair and crossing her legs. She was laid back and he liked that about her, but she had a sharp mind like a steel trap. She didn’t forget anything; it was unnerving at times. “Last time you spoke about her, you were going to see where things led.” Yeah, he’d told her that. At the time he was trying to persuade himself it was the right thing to do.
“Because I fucked up. I called out another person’s name when she was giving me a blow job. Didn’t even know I’d done it until she yelled at me.”
“When we’re at our most vulnerable, our most raw, sometimes our true selves come out. I know you were struggling with whether you were into her. Maybe your subconscious answered the question for you?” Pausing, she added, “What prompted Levi’s message? You live with them.”
“I called out their names,” he whispered. “I haven’t been able to face them. I haven’t gone home since it happened.” Connor sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“Where are you staying?”
“With Katy’s cousin and his wife.”
“That’s a lot of upheaval and stress. Have you had any more episodes?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “At the garage. One of the boys knocked a toolbox off the bench. The noise set me off.”
She sat quietly and assessed him in the way she did sometimes, waiting to see if he’d fill in any more of the details, but he couldn’t. The flashback he’d had was a bad one. It’d freaked out most of the guys, but Kevin’s father was a Vietnam vet. He’d seen his fair share of episodes, so he’d known what to do. “Connor, you need your family. And Katy and Levi, they’re it for you.”
“No,” he rasped, shaking his head. What was he doing? He couldn’t live like this anymore. He couldn’t stay so close, yet so far. The yearning to see them, to be with them—and not even sexually, although that was definitely part of it—was slowly killing him. Every day he stayed at Nick and Emma’s was a day he was delaying the inevitable. But he was living with a dead dream and clutching its rotting corpse, unwilling to let it go so he could live. And wasn’t that the promise he’d made to Rob? To himself when he’d been discharged from that shithole he’d been stationed in for far too long?
Tears sprang to his eyes, and the remaining pieces of his heart crumbled into dust. Clutching his chest, Connor curled up on the couch and sobbed. He was mourning for himself, the lifetime friendship he’d once had, that was now destined to end if he wanted to survive into the future, even crying a little for the hope that he’d be able to have a normal relationship with someone like Miranda. He’d managed to fuck that up spectacularly. Connor hated being alone, but that’s how it looked like his future would pan out. The vast void stretched beyond him, bleakness wrapping its tendrils around his heart. The screen on his phone blurred more as the tears ran down his cheeks and his chest heaved with sobs.
Leslie, his counsellor, moved to sit next to him, rubbing his back with warm hands. He turned away from her, not able to face her anymore. “Shh, it’s okay.” she murmured, over and over.
Tears fell down his cheeks as he rested his head against the scratchy material of the deep blue couch. He had nothing left, physically or mentally. Exhaustion overwhelmed him. Nightmares had plagued the nocturnal hours, but now they’d morphed into some sick and twisted mind-fuck. It wasn’t just Rob who he was reliving losing in that desert, it wasn’t just his bloodied body he cradled as the life left him, but Lee and Katy too. Watching their eyes dull and them take their last breath had him jolting awake, drenched in sweat and shaking so hard he had trouble unscrewing the cap off a bottle of water.
“I have to go.” Connor tried to sit up, but after not having eaten for two days, his body didn’t even have the strength to do that.
“Your attacks, and I’m guessing your nightmares, are getting worse because of the stress you’re putting yourself under. Talk to me. Let me help you get through this.”
Connor wrenched himself off the couch. Standing on shaky legs and lightheaded, he threw his hands up in the air. He didn’t shout, but it wasn’t far off. “You wanna know what’s wrong? Fine. I’m in love with them, okay? Both of them. And they don’t feel anything like what I do. It’s killing me watching them, but I can’t help it. I can’t stop loving them. And I can’t watch it anymore. Every time I see them, it’s like my guts are being carved out with a rusty fucking blade, and I’m slowly bleeding out on the floor.”
“Have you talked to them about it?”
His laugh held no humour. “Yeah, because I can tell my best mate and his girl that I wanna be between them when they fuck. That’s gonna go down real well.” It was torturing him, but the only way he could think to fix the mess he’d got himself in, was to extract himself entirely. Airlift himself out of the quagmire that his life had become and start afresh in a place where no one knew him, where he could carve out a future for himself away from the two people who meant the most, but who he could never keep. The thing was, they’d never been his to begin with.
Cold. So, so cold. A shudder wracked her body, rattling her bones. Her muscles seized and Katy groaned. When had she been hit by a freight train? Pain radiated from her very pores and the hacking cough she was suffering from only made things worse. Like a kick to the ribs every time her lungs spasmed, she sounded like a sixty-year smoking veteran. Katy tried to lift her head from her makeshift bed on the couch, needing another blanket from the hall cupboard, but fell back instantly. The daggers shooting through her temples made her vision swim.
The TV was on, but she just wanted quiet. She did her best to keep her head still when she looked around for the remote, but it was a few feet away on the coffee table. Without getting up, she had no hope of reaching it. Whatever exercise equipment they were advertising was just noise, and it hurt her head even more listening to it. Katy bit back tears, slowly lifting a heavy hand to wipe the errant ones that had slipped free. It matched the ones she’d shed since Con disappeared, leaving them as soon as he’d jumped into bed with Miranda.
She hadn’t been well for a few days, but that morning it was far worse. She was only at the shop for twenty minutes when Dylan had insisted she go home. The throb of her four-day headache had turned blinding, the bright sunlight outside her shop acting like a lance to her eyes, spearing right through her. Katy had barely made it home, staggering in the door. She should have fallen into bed, but instead, she’d gone over to the couch, shoved the half-folded clothes out of the way and laid down, watching TV instead of sleeping like she should have.
But the blankets she had folded on the armrest weren’t enough to keep her warm. Desperately trying to reach for another of Levi’s polo shirts in the pile of folded laundry on the floor, Katy let out a frustrated cry when she couldn’t get it. The move sent another jolt of pain through her head, radiating through every inch of her body. She curled in on herself and let the tears fall. She needed painkillers, but she couldn’t get up to get them. And another blanket. She needed her man, but her phone was sitting in her backpack near the front door.
The bang of the screen door closing had Katy letting out a shuddering breath, thanking the stars for answering her pleading. “Lee, babe, I need you.” Her voice was husky, damaged from the barking cough that had slammed her.
“No, Cupcake, it’s me. What’s wrong?” Con asked, the thump of his footsteps quickly announcing his approach.
Katy steeled herself against the agony of moving and wiped her eyes. Con didn’t need to worry about her. He had his own girl to care for; there was no way Katy was going to be a burden on him. She’d manage herself. Hell, she’d been sick before—this was no different. “Never mind, I’m fine.”
Another shudder rocked her, and Katy clamped down her groan, biting down on her tongue to stop it escaping.
“Katy, you’re sick.” Con lay his cool hand across her forehead, and she sighed. She wanted to melt into his touch, let him soothe her. No, no I can’t. He’s got his own priorities. And he left us. He doesn’t need us anymore. I shouldn’t need him. Unreasonable as it was, it hurt that he hadn’t even made time to call and let them know he was staying at Miranda’s for a while. He’d barely even bothered answering their texts. It wasn’t like they were his keepers, but Katy had thought they were friends. And friends didn’t just disappear.
“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” Katy croaked, forcing the words past her throat. Every swallow was like knives shredding her oesophagus. Talking only made it worse. “Get what you came for and go back to Miranda’s.”
“Shut up, Katy,” he chastised her. “You’re burning up. You need to get this fever down or you’ll do some damage.”
Katy moaned, the ache intensifying to screaming pain when she tried to push his hand off her and sit up. “I’ll be okay, Connor.”
Con gently removed the tie from her hair, his hands caressing her face. His lips pressed against her forehead in a gentle kiss had Katy breathing him in, all spice and man. She relaxed back onto the cushions, no longer fighting him. His murmured words were quiet, just like the rest of the room had become, as he soothed her. His slow movements kept her from jerking too much, even as he peeled away the blankets she’d wrapped around herself. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he whispered, before kissing her temple softly. Katy closed her eyes and sighed, wishing just for a minute that he was hers to love.
“Does Lee know you’re sick?”
“No,” she croaked. “He’s filming all day.”
“You’re too sick to be by yourself, Cupcake. Why didn’t you call me?” Con ran his fingers through her hair, his gaze holding so much warmth, but at the same time, sadness.
“You left.” Katy closed her eyes, trying to hide the tears welling in them. “I didn’t think you wanted to see us anymore.” It’d hurt when he’d moved out, especially because of the way he did it. She was pissed with him, but mostly he’d broken her heart. Knowing that he didn’t want them anymore had flayed her. But she’d forced herself to put up a strong front—Levi was hurting too and he needed her.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, leaning down to press his lips to her forehead once more, kissing across to her temple. “I’m here now. Let me help you.”
Katy was too weak to argue with him, to question why he was being almost intimate with her when he’d been with Miranda. She started shaking violently. “Shit, you need something to get rid of this fever.”
He laid her down gently, moving ever so slowly until she was stretched out again. Katy let her eyes drift closed as Con stepped away. She heard rummaging around, water running and then two tablets were dropped into her palm. The crack of the lid from a bottle sounded, and Katy forced her eyes open. Struggling to swallow the pills down, she winced, a pained groan escaping her lips.
“Give it a few minutes. They’ll kick in soon.” He placed a cool, wet cloth on her forehead, and it was like heaven. The headache sending stabbing pain through her temples immediately lessened. A shudder tore through her and Con set to work on her clothes, unbuttoning her chef’s jacket and pulling her white pants down her legs. “Sit up, Katy. I need to get this uniform off you. You need to cool down.”
She wanted to cry. She already was. Swiping angrily at the tears tracking down her cheeks, Katy struggled to sit upright. But Con wrapped strong arms around her and pulled her into his embrace. Burying her face in the crook of his neck, Katy cried. Yes, she was sick and hurting, but that wasn’t the worst part. He’d left her, left them, and she missed him. He didn’t know it, but he’d broken her heart, and she wanted her friend back. Lee hadn’t said anything, but she knew he wanted Con with them too. He belonged with them, dammit. They could make him happy.
“Have you eaten anything?”
“No,” she mumbled into his chest, not wanting to let him go. He was warm and solid, and there. God, she’d missed him.
“I’ll make you something. Lee’s mum used to make the best chicken soup. You think you’re up for that?” Katy hummed her agreement before yawning, and Con replied, “Lie down and rest. I’ll get started.”
He held her hair back as she rested her head on the armrest. Dressed only in a tee and her underwear, Katy curled into a ball, wrapping her arms around her chest to keep warm. She was cold, but the thin cotton blanket Con laid over her moments later helped. The medicine she’d taken must have started to take the edge off her fever. Katy sighed as the cool material hit her skin, warming her up, and she snuggled into the couch. The sounds of Con working in the kitchen faded as sleep began to take over. Eyelids heavy, exhaustion coaxed her into relaxation, pulling her towards slumber.
Katy startled, every muscle in her body tensing as a loud bang tore through the quiet of the room. The breeze flowing through the open doors at either end of the house was warm on her face, the only part of her uncovered.
“Sugar, baby, are you okay?”
Katy didn’t have the chance to respond to Levi’s question as Con shushed him as he raced down the hall. “Mate! She’s asleep.”
She managed to croak out a response, sounding more like a hoarse whisper than the volume she’d intended. “I’m awake.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Levi knelt before her and ran his fingers gently through her hair. Katy turned into his touch, nuzzling against his hand. Featherlight kisses rained down on her temple as he caressed her.
“You were filming. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Next time, interrupt. You’re more important than filming. If you needed me, I would have been here.” Levi rested his forehead against hers and whispered, “I can’t lose you, too.”
“You won’t. Ever.” Katy closed her hands around Levi’s shirt and held him close. She didn’t realize how much she’d needed the reassurance that they were solid until Levi had voiced his own worries. He had nothing to fear—she loved Levi. Needed him like the earth needed the sun to sustain life.
“Rest, sugar. I’ve got you.” The couch shifted, and the heat from Levi’s solid body moved away. Katy didn’t want him to leave, but she knew he needed to speak with Con. She hated intruding on their conversation, but her head still pounded every time she moved. They’d be picking her arse off the floor if she tried to give them some space.
“So?” Levi asked, almost petulantly. Katy opened her eyes again, craning her neck to see into the kitchen. Levi was crowding him into the corner. He may have been a few inches shorter than Con, but their height difference didn’t matter then. Levi was using his bulk. “What’s goin’ on?”
“I, um….” Con looked away, his shoulders dropping.
“What? You’re moving in with her?”
“Yeah, um, something like that,” Con muttered, still not meeting Levi’s eyes. Levi was defensive, hurt. Chest to chest with his best friend, his fists clenched, his body language screamed aggression, but Katy knew him better. He was all bluster, and once the wind went out of his sails, he’d be broken inside unless Con treaded carefully. “I’m here to pick up some stuff.”
Levi grasped Con’s shirt in his fists and shook him. “What?” The shock and incredulity were obvious in his tone. “Last week you didn’t even want to get serious with her, and now you’re movin’ in together?”
Con pushed Levi’s hands away. They fell easily when he sidestepped Levi’s grip. “It isn’t really your problem though, is it?”
“No, of course not.” Levi leaned against the kitchen cupboards looking defeated. He wore his heart on his sleeve and Con was breaking it all over again. “But mates look out for each other, don’t they?”
“Yeah. Yeah, they do.” Con nodded, running his hand through his hair. “Sorry, man, I’ve been a bit stressed out about this. It’s a big decision.”
Levi reached out, this time gripping Con’s arm, spinning the other man away from Katy. “Why don’t you take things a little slower if it’s worrying you?”
Con shrugged out of Levi’s grip but reached up to squeeze his shoulder. “Soup’s ready, mate. Don’t leave Katy waiting. She hasn’t eaten anything all day.” He spun and walked to the front of the house, but even Katy could see the unshed tears in his eyes. Con was hurting too. She just didn’t understand why.
“Suit yourself then. Don’t talk,” Levi snapped. Slamming down a bowl, Katy was surprised it didn’t shatter. Fists resting on the benchtop, he stood there, breathing hard. Katy moved, tentatively standing up and walking towards him. Lightheaded, she gripped onto the furniture as she silently padded over, the timber floors warm under her bare feet.
Katy reached out for Levi, but as she did, Con came back in. He wasn’t carrying anything, but that didn’t mean anything—he probably had his bags stacked at the front door.
“Guys, I’m gonna go.”
“Con,” she pleaded, “please think about this. We don’t want to see you get hurt. We love you.”
“I love you, too. But I need to do this. Please understand,” he replied, cupping her face in his hands.
“We’ll stand by you, whatever you decide. And our door is always open for you to come home. Just don’t shut us out, please.” Katy’s eyes welled with tears. She didn’t want to lose him again, but Con was slipping from her grasp. Levi’s strong arms wrapped around her, his big body behind her. Her man gave her strength, but knowing Con was going to walk away tore her heart out.
“Don’t worry about me, Cupcake. Don’t get upset. I need to do this. I’m not ready to talk about it yet, but I need to do it.”
“I’ll call you soon.” Katy slipped her arms around his waist. Levi still had a hold of her. It was like he couldn’t let her go either. “Thanks for looking after me.”
“Anytime, Cupcake.”
Con flashed a weak smile at Levi. His eyes were expressive, often revealing much more than Con thought he did. This time she saw so much emotion in them, none of it good. If he was moving in with Miranda and he was happy about it, why did he look so damn sad? Resignation, misery, and heartbreak were written all over Con’s face. The dark rings under his eyes suddenly looked more like sleeplessness rather than nights being in a lover’s arms. Watching him turn away, hands in his pockets, his gaze focussed on the floor, Con looked broken. Why was he doing this? Why was he leaving again?
“Babe,” she gasped, her tears falling freely. Levi sheltered her in his arms while she cried, tucking her against his body and holding her close. His shuddering breaths left her in no doubt he was struggling too. Watching Con walk away the second time was easily as bad as the first.
*****
“Hi Miranda,” Katy greeted her friend when she picked up her mobile. “How are you, sweetie?” She’d been as quiet as Con over the last week, and now that Katy was feeling better, she was determined she was going to catch up with her friends again. She and Levi needed to get back the balance they had in their friendship with Con, and now, with his girlfriend. As much as it pained Katy, seeing him with Miranda was better than not having him in her life at all.
“Fine,” Miranda responded sharply. Katy’s eyebrows hiked up, and she pulled the phone away from her ear looking at it as if it would shed some light on her friend’s murderous tone.
“Is Con there?” Katy asked tentatively. “I told him I’d call him, but he’s not answering his mobile. I thought maybe we could catch up.”
Miranda huffed out a laugh but it didn’t sound happy. “He didn’t tell you, did he? Fucking coward.”
“Tell me what?” Confusion laced her tone, and she frowned. What in the hell was her friend talking about?
“Ask the arsehole yourself,” she growled before adding, “He hasn’t been here since I kicked him out.” When there was no further explanation, Katy pulled the phone away from her ear again. Miranda had hung up, the line between them dead. What the hell just happened? Tell me what?
Katy dialled Con’s phone again and left yet another message. Then she waited. And waited. She had a partially decorated cake sitting in the cool room waiting for her, but there was no way she could concentrate on it with her current mood. Stripping out of her chef’s whites, she hung the jacket on the hook behind her office door and sat in front of her computer, attempting to get her mind around the mountain of paperwork sitting in her in-tray. An hour later she was pacing, walking back and forth across the length of her small office. It was quiet, so still that she could hear the ticking of her watch as the seconds crawled by.
The shrill ring of her mobile cut through the air and startled her so much that Katy fumbled, dropping it despite the death grip she’d had on it. Skittering under the desk, Katy was down on her knees in a flash, reaching for it.
“Hi, Con,” she said, sitting up and smashing her head on the desk. Rubbing the spot at the back of her crown, she complained, “Ow, shit that hurt.”
“You okay, Cupcake?” he asked, concerned.
“Yeah, I smashed my head on the desk. Why haven’t you been answering?”
“Cut to the chase next time.” He laughed nervously.
Katy was confused and downright frustrated at his evasiveness. Her tone was cutting. “Don’t change the subject.”
“Okay, okay. I’m on a lunchbreak at the moment. I have to finish off this part of Lee’s bike I’m working on. Why don’t I come over tonight and we can talk?”
“Or we could come over to wherever you’re staying.” From Con’s intake of breath, Katy knew she’d hit a sore spot. “Where is that by the way?”
The extended pause on the line had Katy wondering whether he’d answer, but his quiet response shocked her. “Nick and Emma’s.”
Nick and Emma’s? Katy blinked, her jaw slack before the indignation set in. Far louder than she should have for her business, she accused, “You’re staying at my cousin’s house and you didn’t even bother to fucking tell me. What the hell, Connor?”
“I needed some time to think. I’m sorry. For everything. I’ll come over tonight and explain.”
Clenching her teeth together to stop herself from saying something she’d regret, Katy ground out, “I’ll be home by six tonight. Make sure your arse is there.”
“Okay,” he responded quietly before hanging up. Fury and devastation warred for the top spot in her psyche. Why did he go to Nick’s rather than come home to us? What did we do to drive him away? All the ups and downs she and Levi had been through over the past week, going back to that place they were in—that limbo—when he was enlisted, was for nothing. A part of her heart had been missing, and Levi had spent the whole week on edge, constantly checking his phone for a missed call or text and hovering over his email account. And for what? So Con could enjoy a beach holiday rather than coming home to them?
Katy shot off a text to Levi. Six o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.