The Perception (The Exception #2)

“I’ll be your co-author.”


The elevator began its descent. “Was that your mother that called for you earlier? Is she okay?”

Connor’s face softened a bit. “Yes, it was. She’s okay, just had a question about her meds.”

“She’s lucky to have you.”

He shrugged. “Well, I’m all she has, so she’s stuck with me either way.”

“You’re an only child?” I asked as the door opened and we walked into the cool darkness. I hated walking through the parking garage at night. It was such a lonely place.

“Yeah. Well, my mother has a son from a previous marriage, but I don’t know him. She married my dad and they had me but divorced when I was a teenager. She’s kind of a hard pill to swallow sometimes, pardon the pun.”

“I’m sorry.” I stopped at the branch in the roadway, needing to take a right but knowing that he parked in the doctor’s lot to the left. “I hope she gets better soon.”

“Me, too.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and grinned. “So, you going home to Max?”

I matched his smile. “Yeah.”

“He seems like a decent guy. I think you should go work out whatever was going on. A girl like you deserves a man that will appreciate you and Max seems to understand that.”

“Ah, doling out relationship advice along with medicinal instructions tonight, huh, Doc?”

“I am a professional at everything I do.”

I laughed. “Noted. Have a good night, Connor.”

“You, too, Kari.”





KARI


The house was dark when I pulled up. I would’ve thought that Max wasn’t home except that his truck was in the driveway. I parked my car and walked up the front steps, knocking lightly before going on in.

I felt weird knocking, since I technically lived there. But it seemed like the right thing to do.

I tossed my bag beside the front door. The kitchen light in the back of the house was on and I bent down to pet Titus before making my way into the lit room. It looked like it did before I left the night before, except a mark on the far wall.

“Max?” I called out. I walked cautiously through the house and up the stairs. I could see the bedroom light on beneath the door and I knocked timidly. “Max?”

The door popped open. He took my breath away. His dark hair was unruly, his green eyes soft and glistening. He had a dark pair of denim jeans and a plain white t-shirt, his feet bare. When he saw me, he smiled and the dimple in his cheek shined.

“What ‘cha knockin’ for, sweetheart?” He reached for my hand and guided me into the room, his eyes never leaving mine. All at once, he pulled me into him, wrapping his arms securely around my waist, pinning mine to my sides, and kissed me like his life depended on it. He rested his forehead against mine and caught his breath.

“I missed you,” I whispered. I sagged into him, my cheek resting against his heart.

“The only thing I hate about any of it is that you didn’t tell me this stuff before. Not because it would’ve made a difference, but I hate it that you don’t trust me. To know that Blaine knew and I didn’t . . . it feels like you had something with him that we don’t.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing that I couldn’t put this conversation off any longer. “It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you. It’s not that at all.”

“That’s how it felt.”

“I know. It probably did. Does. Whatever. But it’s the opposite, really.” My throat was tightening, the warmth that came with tears and sadness creating waves inside me.

Max kissed the top of my head and held my hand, pulling me gently to the bed. We climbed on and rested against the headboard. “I’ve told you before that I can’t be what you need if I don’t know what you need. And when I try to get close, you push me away. And then I see in black-and-white that you had no issues getting close to another man.”

I snuggled into his side, trying to comfort him by letting him feel me close. “It was different with Blaine. He didn’t want kids, so he didn’t care—hell, he was happier knowing that I probably would never be able to have them, even if I wanted them. But you are the opposite. You were meant to be a father. Family is everything to you. So I figured telling you that would be writing my own exit.”

He squeezed my shoulder. “Do you really think I’m that shallow?”

“It’s not shallow to want a family.”

“No, it isn’t. But to think I’d love you less because you have a health issue that you can’t control would be pretty damn shallow.”

“It just felt wrong to love you and know that I would eventually put you in a position where you had to pick me or a future.”

“You think that my future and you are separate things? You silly girl.”

I smiled against his side.