Eastern Lights (Compass 2)
I smiled. “I think that would be a great idea. Maiv is all about us writing articles with the complete heart of our subjects, and from what you’ve shared with me, your mom is a big part of your life.”
“The biggest,” he agreed.
“How long has she been cancer-free?”
“This will be year ten, which…” His smile spread wide. “It’s just really good to hit the ten-year mark.”
“I’m so happy for her.”
“Yeah. She’s been through a lot of hard battles. I still deal with a lot of worry and fear that it will come back some day, but so far, so good.”
“Stay positive. Ten years is a long time.”
“I know. Sometimes my thoughts just spiral, but I’m really happy she’s okay. I know the invite is a bit last minute, but I’m planning to go down two weekends from now.”
I smiled. “Lucky for you, I have no life. I cannot wait to see what the small-town life is all about. I’ve never been to a small town.”
He laughed. “It’s a bit different than the New York life, that’s for sure. The people are everything you’d imagine them to be—gossipy, caring, closedminded, but fun. Everyone’s involved in everyone’s affairs, pretty much.”
I rubbed my hands together. “I can’t wait.”
“Just a heads-up, not to sound cocky, but I’m a bit of a superstar down there. I’m like the small-town celebrity, which is ridiculous, but also flattering. Last year, they named a street after me. Had a full-blown festival to do it, too. It’s insane, and a waste of money, but they love me.”
“What’s not to love?”
He looked my way and smiled before going to grab a plate to stock high with Chinese food. “I’ll book the flights for us tomorrow if that works?”
“Perfect. I’ll email Maiv later tonight to keep her in the loop of what’s happening.”
“Okay, so we have General Tso’s, egg foo young, shrimp fried rice, and...” He opened a carton and arched a brow my way. “Crab rangoon. What would you like?”
“Everything.”
“Thatta girl,” he said as he began making a plate for me. I would’ve argued that I could’ve made my own plate, but something was so sweet about him wanting to serve me before he made himself a plate.
He handed it over to me, and then after he had his plate in front of him, he sat beside me on the couch, and we both dived into the food.
“I want to give you fair warning that when I bring you home, people are going to assume we are in a relationship because I’ve never brought a girl home before.”
I laughed. “We’ll have to work hard to convince them that we aren’t.” Even though the thought of us being in a relationship made my stomach fill with butterflies. Connor was only my roommate and my friend—nothing more, nothing less. But sometimes, like at the photo shoot today, he’d touch my skin and I’d feel a million different emotions all at once. It was as if his touch, his smile, his warmth, his whole persona shot flashes of love throughout my body every single day.
My favorite kinds of flashes of love came solely from the man sitting across from me.
Connor kept talking about anything under the sun, and then, one moment he paused his words and looked at me. His blue eyes smiled brighter than his lips, and I shifted around on the couch cushion.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing. It’s nothing. I was just thinking…” He laughed lightly and shook his head. “My mom’s going to love you.”
And just like that, his flashes of love crashed straight into my heartbeats.
32
Connor
The hardest part of living with Aaliyah was that she was insanely attractive and kind.
There was so much to like about the girl. A day did not pass where she didn’t put a smile on my face. I found myself picking up on her little quirks, and the more I saw them, the more I loved them. Like how when she typed on her laptop and she couldn’t think of how to spell a word, she’d snap her fingers in the air repeatedly until it came to her. Or whenever she was about to eat food, she’d do a little excited jig.
When we’d be out in public and she saw a dog, she’d always react as if she just met an angel and she’d beg the owner to let her cuddle the fur ball.
I loved how she tried to tell me corny jokes, but always forgot the punchline. I loved how when she had a bite of food, she’d moan a little and then always offer me a bite, too, so I could moan along with her.
I loved her ass—I know, shallow—but damn, her ass. The way it moved in dresses, in skirts, in jeans. Fuck, in jeans. I could get a stiff one solely from watching Aaliyah Winters move in some blue jeans. Must’ve been the Southern boy in me.