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Conor keeps his secrets and dreams of things that aren’t meant to be. Like how he wants me to move into his mom’s house. Even if I wanted to see Barbie Jessup repeatedly through my day, there is no way in fucking hell on earth does she want to see me. Over the last week, we’ve run into each other a handful of times. She called me “Molly” twice and “Monica” four times. I also caught her calling me a bitch once. In her defense, I did refer to her as various Barbie products.
“Did you like having the apartment to yourself before I moved in?” I ask Amity as she dances around in the kitchen, wearing boxers, knee-high boys’ socks, and a white Buckeyes jersey.
“No, why would I want to be alone?”
“Privacy.”
“Who needs that?” she asks while wrapping her dark hair into a floppy ponytail. “I don’t like the quiet. The past gets really loud when people aren’t around to distract me.”
I think to ask about her childhood, but Amity doesn’t want to get bummed out. She’s been in a good mood since breakfast. Now, she’s positively giddy. Amity is always happier when she gets to work at Rooster’s in the evening.
“Oh, my, god,” Amity says and gasps. “I was thinking about how Bronco got hooked up and then Anders. They were single for years, then wham! Now, not so long afterward, Conor gets hooked up. That’s when I realized you’re the girls from ‘Friends.’”
“Explain, please,” I insist while joining her in the kitchen.
“Lana is the clean-cut good girl like Monica. Pixie is the fun hippie like Phoebe. And you’re Rachel. You even ran away from a wedding.”
“The wedding was months away, and I don’t want to be Rachel. She was a bitch, and Conor’s too hot to be Ross.”
“Conor is like the three guys mashed together. He’s smart like Ross, sexy like Joey, and funny like Chandler. You got the trifecta, baby,” she says, winking at me while lighting a joint. “Still, I’m sorry you’re Rachel.”
“It’s okay. She does have the best hair,” I say, running my fingers through mine. “But who would you be in that scenario?”
“Umm... one of those sidepieces the guys had.”
“How about the hot one that dated Joey, and he stole her food?”
“Sure, as long as I’m not Janice.”
“Oh, no, that’s most definitely Jena.”
We share a laugh while Amity hands over the joint. “I like having you and Conor around,” she says as her mood gets a little funky.
“That’s good because I don’t want to live anywhere else.”
“What about his house?”
“In that scenario, I give you up as a roommate and get Barbie in return. How the fuck is that fair?”
Amity grins, scooting closer. I take her hand, sensing she’s lonely.
“How long do you think you’ll be a bunny?” I ask as she wraps her arm around my shoulders and squeezes.
“Until I get too old and fat. Then, maybe I can waitress. Except it’ll depend on how full the Overlook is by then. If a bunch of bunnies have moved on and there’s space for me here, I bet they’d let me stay.”
“Aren’t you hoping to find a man of your own?”
“No.”
“Is it for the same reason that Jena didn’t find someone?” I ask, thinking about her crush on Bronco.
“No,” Amity says, sighing warily. “Love can make a person vulnerable, allow them to do things they don’t want to do. I’d rather be alone than feel pain.”
A part of me wants to know Amity’s past, to understand why she acts the way she does. But she owns her memories and secrets. No one else has a right to them. So, I don’t ask. I only comfort her as she did for me when I first arrived in Elko.
“Marriage and men weren’t important to me. I never imagined I’d feel like I do for Conor. Back in Minton, I dated a few guys. They weren’t awful for the most part, but I never felt any heat. Dating was something to do to waste time. Yet, being with Conor transformed me into a lovesick pup.”
Amity squeezes me again. “He always seemed lonely and a little disconnected from everyone. I’m glad he found you.”
Cuddling closer, I give Amity the comfort she craves and enjoy the close friendship we’ve built. Yet, there are moments when I feel guilty for bonding with her. As if I’ve forgotten or betrayed Zella. However, if I remained stuck in the past, I’d never have let Conor closer. Without him, I would have missed so much awesome stuff these last weeks.
By the time Conor arrives at the apartment with plans to order pizza, I’m ready to have him naked and under me. Scratch that. Behind me would be better. I want his hands free to explore.
While Amity gets ready for work, Conor and I head to my bedroom. I expect him to tease me about how quickly I’m stripping naked. Instead, he stands near the bed, seeming rather passive.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he lies before trying to distract me by removing his shirt and showing off his excellent chest. “Wanna get married?”
“Sure, why the fuck not? Now, tell me what’s bothering you?” I ask and shove his face between my now bare boobs. “Breathe in Monroe and let out the truth.”
Conor inhales deeply and wraps his arms around my waist. “Rather than retire, Bronco wants to slowly transition to me running things.”
“And that’s bad?”
“It’s not how he planned to do things before.”
Studying Conor’s unreadable face, I search for the truth behind his words. “And you worry the change is because he doesn’t trust you. Do you think he worries I’ve pussy whipped you?” I ask as my nails gently scratch his scalp.
Reclining us onto the bed, he holds me tight. “It could be that he thinks retiring makes him seem old, and his ego can’t handle that.”
“Well, he’s right. Retiring would make him seem old. He isn’t even fifty. Why does he need to retire?”
“Because he’s been in charge since he was nineteen,” Conor explains while cupping my butt. “I guess he’s tired.”
“From what?” I ask, kissing his forehead. “His life is so easy now.”
“He has four daughters.”
“Yeah, but retiring ain’t getting rid of them.”
As his green eyes study me, he asks, “So, you don’t think he needs to retire?”
“Of course, he needs to retire. Didn’t you hear how he’s been running shit for almost three decades?”
Conor allows a small smile. “Then, what are you saying?”
“All the blood left your brain, huh?” I tease while his lips stroke my left nipple. “What I’m saying is his slow pace isn’t about you. It’s all him. Bronco isn’t an old man, but he’s tired. His friends are all getting ancient. His oldest daughter is nearly ready to leave for college. But he’s also got a hot new wife and a toddler. He’s stuck between feeling like an old man and being a guy at the start of a new life.”
Conor gives my nipple a little bite and then exhales softly on my wet flesh. “No doubt you’re right. I shouldn’t read too much into it, but this plan isn’t how I thought it would be. I figured he’d hand control over by now, or he’d make me wait. The slow-go approach took me off guard,” he says in between wet kisses on my chest and stomach. “He also said some stuff that made me think he doesn’t trust my judgment.”
“If he didn’t think you were up to being president, there’d be no slow-go approach. He’d just shut that shit down and get someone else in order. Why toy with you and piss off a whiny Wyatt if he doesn’t trust you? No, you’re golden, and can you suck a little more on this one?”
Conor switches nipples, lavishing my hard, red nub with a tongue bath that leaves me so wet that I finally have to insist he fuck me so I can find relief.
“No more shop talk,” I moan as the head of his cock teases my pussy before entering with a hard thrust. “We fuck. We eat. We choose not to think.”
Conor wraps me in his arms as his hips thrust. He seems weird today, both needy yet cold. Insisting he open up is dumb, though. I wouldn’t want him bossing me around, and Conor’s easygoing veneer is a con. He’s a stubborn man who’ll tell me his truth when he’s ready. Until then, I plan to enjoy the ride.
