Blood rushes to my face. I glare at him, outraged. “It’s my computer.”
He shakes his head and doesn’t budge.
“Oh, fuck this.” I take two long strides, brushing past him, determined to sit down at my own damn computer in spite of what anyone says, when before I know it, I’m swept up off my feet and am staring openmouthed at the hideous gold carpet on the floor.
Connor has thrown me over his shoulder.
“Be right back, boys,” he says calmly, turns around, and walks away.
I pound on the expanse of his broad back, sputtering, “You—you—jerk! Put me down! Right now! You giant—”
“Animal, I know,” he says drily. In one smooth motion, he flips me over and sets me on my feet.
We’re in the adjacent room. It’s an average office with a desk and two chairs, a bookcase, a sofa along one wall. A poster of Arnold Schwarzenegger from The Terminator stares back at me from the opposite wall.
I wonder how it’s going to look with Connor’s blood splattered all over it.
With a kick of his boot, Connor shuts the door.
“You did not,” I say, breathing hard with my hands balled to fists at my side, “just pick me up and throw me over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes. In front of everyone. In front of that epic asshole Rodriguez, you did not just do that. Right?”
Connor folds his arms over his chest. “Is that a trick question?”
“Because if you did,” I continue, ignoring him, “I’m going to tell you that I loathe you.” When his eyes flare, I add, “And not in our secret code way!”
He purses his lips. “Now you’re just being mean.”
I take a moment to try to calm myself. When I’m reasonably sure I’m not going to stab him with the scissors from the jar on the desk, I ask through gritted teeth, “Why would you do that to me?”
“Because I’m gonna look out for you,” comes the instant reply, “even when you’re not looking out for yourself.”
I glare at him without speaking, forcing him to explain.
“Harry will arrest you if you interfere with the investigation.”
“I just handed him the investigation!”
“It doesn’t matter. He told you to step aside. If you don’t listen to him, he’ll have you removed from the premises with some shiny new metal bracelets decorating your wrists.”
When I open my mouth to retort, Connor interrupts me.
“I know him, Tabby. This is as far as he’ll be pushed.” A muscle in his jaw jumps. “And I’m not taking a chance with your safety.”
A noise is growing in my head. It sounds like a swarm of bees after someone has kicked their hive. “You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I say, holding his gaze. “Just because we’ve slept together doesn’t give you any right to tell me—”
“I care about you.” His voice is big and loud in the small room.
For so many reasons, that leaves me breathless. Unable to meet his eyes any longer, I turn away. When I can finally talk, it sounds like I’ve swallowed gravel.
“I know you have a hero complex, but I don’t need you to save me. That includes saving me from myself.”
He mutters an oath under his breath. “You can’t do it, can you? You just can’t let anyone in.”
He’s bitterly angry with me. It’s obvious from his tone. That hurts so much, I find it hard to say what I know I have to say. But if I let this thing between us go any further, I’ll hate myself.
I can’t drag him down with me. I have to cut the cord before it’s too late.
In a flat, emotionless voice, I set him loose.
“It’s not your business what I can or can’t do. Why do I have to keep explaining this to you? There’s nothing between us, Connor. We have nothing in common. I thought we were both adults, on the same page about our agreement, but I have to admit I totally regret it, because it’s given you some kind of bullshit idea that you’re entitled to an opinion about the choices I make.”
I gather my courage, take a deep breath, and turn to look at him.
“Stop trying to convince yourself this thing between us is anything other than sex. It isn’t. You said it yourself. I’m a team of one.” I pause and then drive home the final nail in the coffin. “And that’s how I want it to stay. Forever. So back off.”
His silence burns and lasts an agonizingly long time. A vein in his neck throbs. One of his fingers intermittently twitches.
Finally—so, so softly—he says, “I’ve always admired you. Respected you, for everything you are. But right now, I’m so disappointed in you, it’s making me sick to my stomach.”
I force myself to hold his gaze steadily, to keep my breathing slow and even, to stand upright when it feels like I might at any moment fall to the floor.
Without another word, Connor turns on his heel and walks out, leaving the door open behind him.
And what’s left of my heart breaks a little bit more.
Twenty-Two
Connor
As soon as I enter the room, I know something has happened in my brief absence. The mood has turned from excitement to frustration.