Damn the truth
1741 Words
Claire's POV
"I have a problem," Connor said, stretching his long legs beneath the consultation table like he owned the damn room. "I haven't been able to reach climax for five years."
I looked up from the patient chart slowly, one eyebrow arched, nearly stabbing myself with my pen. “I’m sorry… what?”
Across from my desk, Connor lounged deeper into the leather chair, one ankle resting lazily over his knee. His expensive black slacks stretched over those long legs, and his fingers drummed against the glass tabletop as if he had all the time in the world. The Los Angeles skyline glowed behind him through the tall office windows, gold bleeding into violet dusk, but Connor still somehow managed to outshine the entire thing in this office.
Annoyingly handsome. Always had been.
His mouth twitched into that signature smirk. “You heard me.”
“No, I heard the words,” I said, setting my pen down deliberately. “I’m just trying to figure out why you walked into my office at six-thirty in the evening and announced your erectile dysfunction like we’re discussing a patient charts.”
His grin widened, lazy and wicked and far too familiar. “Because you care. You’re my best friend.”
“I absolutely do not, Connor.”
“You looked concerned for a second there.”
“I looked medically alarmed, you idiot.”
Connor pressed a hand dramatically to his chest. “Damn. And here I thought we were finally having a vulnerable friendship moment.”
“Connor, I’m serious.” I tossed my pen onto the desk with a clatter. “I’m an internal medicine doctor. Not your s*x therapist. And definitely not whatever the hell this conversation is turning into.”
“Wow.” He shook his head with exaggerated sadness. “Healthcare in America really is collapsing.”
I just stared at him. He stared back with complete, infuriating innocence.
God, he was exhausting.
And the worst part? He knew exactly how funny he was.
“We grew up sharing one bathroom with fourteen foster kids,” I reminded him. “Nothing about you shocks me anymore. But this?” I pointed at him. “This is illegal.”
Connor barked out a laugh, deep and warm enough to do unfair things to my stomach. “You used to kick the bathroom door open while I was showering because you thought I stole your Pop-Tarts.”
“You did steal my Pop-Tarts.”
“You can’t prove that.” he argued.
“You confessed, genius.”
“False confession under emotional distress. You were holding a hairbrush like a weapon, Claire. I feared for my life. You were terrifying.”
I snorted before I could stop myself.
Connor pointed at me immediately, eyes sparkling. “There it is.”
“What?”
“That laugh.” He leaned forward, smug as ever. “You missed me didn’t you?”
“Oh my God.” I shoved my tablet into my bag. “You are unbelievably obsessed with yourself.”
“Not true.” His eyes dragged slowly over my face, warm and shameless. “I’m actually pretty obsessed with you.”
My hands paused for half a second and I froze.
Connor always did this. He’d joke and tease and push until suddenly the air changed, and I remembered he wasn’t just the boy I grew up with anymore.
He was dangerous now.
Dangerously attractive. Dangerous to my peace of mind. Dangerous to every sensible decision I’d made in the last three years.
I cleared my throat. “You’re flirting with me now because you’re emotionally unstable?”
“I’m flirting because you’re hot as hell.”
“Connor.”
“What?” He spread his hands innocently. “I’m being honest. Personal growth. Therapy would be proud of me.”
“You’ve never been to therapy.”
“I watched three TikToks from a licensed psychologist. Same thing.”
I rolled my eyes, even as heat crept up my neck. “Go flirt with one of the nurses. Half the hospital already wants to climb you like a tree.”
“Yeah, but they don’t yell at me properly.” He tilted his head, that wicked gleam in his eyes. “You do it with emotion. Passion. Commitment. I kinda like seeing those from you.”
“You need professional help.”
“Are you offering sessions?” His grin turned downright sinful. “Because I feel like my healing journey would improve if you sat on my—”
“Connor!”
He burst out laughing while I glared at him hard enough to start fires.
“That’s s****l harassment in the workplace,” I informed him.
“But you’re smiling, it's a good thing”
“I’m smiling because prison orange would look terrible on you.”
“I’d make it fashionable then”
Unfortunately, he probably would.
I zipped my bag harder than necessary and stood up “I’m leaving. Tyler’s waiting for me.”
The second the words left my mouth, the mood shifted subtly fast.
But I felt it.
Connor leaned back slowly, the smirk fading around the edges. “Right. Tyler.”
The way he said my fiancé’s name made it sound like spoiled milk.
I sighed. “Don’t start.”
“Well, I didn’t say anything.”
“You made that face.”
“I have expressive eyebrows. That’s not a crime.”
“It should be with the way you weaponize them.”
His jaw flexed once before his gaze returned to mine. “You really excited for tomorrow?”
“My engagement party?” I frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He shrugged casually, but his eyes stayed locked on me. “I don’t know. Usually when people are happy, they don’t look like they’re about to get audited every time wedding stuff comes up.”
I let out a disbelieving laugh. “You are unbelievable.”
“I’m observant. You’re just deflecting.”
I grabbed my coat from the chair behind me. “I’m not doing this with you again.”
“Because you already know what I’m gonna say.”
“That Tyler is secretly evil?” I shot him a look. “Yeah, Connor. I’ve heard the speech.”
Connor stood up then, all six-foot-three of him unfolding slowly, and suddenly my office felt a whole lot smaller.
“He doesn’t deserve you.”
I hated how quickly my heartbeat changed when Connor got serious.
Tyler never affected me like this. Tyler was safe. Predictable. The kind of man my father approved of within five minutes.
Connor was chaos wrapped in broad shoulders and expensive cologne.
“You don’t get to do this every time his name comes up,” I said quietly.
“Do what?”
“Act like I’m making some horrible mistake.”
His eyes held mine. “I think you are.”
Silence stretched between us. Somewhere down the hall, I could hear a phone ringing at the nurses’ station. Someone laughed and a cart squeaked past.
Meanwhile, the tension in my office felt hot enough to burn through the walls.
I crossed my arms tightly. “You know what your problem is?”
Connor huffed a laugh. “Besides the original one?”
“You think just because you feel something strongly, it automatically makes you right.”
His gaze dropped briefly to my mouth before lifting again. “And you think pretending not to feel things makes them disappear.”
Damn him! Seriously damn him for knowing me so well.
I stepped closer before I could stop myself and jabbed a finger into his chest. “I. AM. HAPPY WITH. Tyler.”
Connor glanced down at my finger against his shirt, then slowly looked back up at me, eyes dark and knowing.
“You sound a little uncertain saying that.”
I pulled my hand back immediately. “I don’t.”
“Claire.” His voice dropped lower. Rougher. “Your wolf reacts only to me. You know that, right? It gets quite repulsive with other men, don't you think—”
“That’s not true.” I cut him off at once before he could finish the sentence. My stomach flipped hard enough to piss me off.
“Really?” He took one slow step closer, crowding my space. “Isn’t that why you hide the fact that you have a wolf because you're scared of what might happen when someone it doesn't want gets too close? I mean everyone calls you the wolf-less doctor but you and I know that isn't the case.”
I choked on absolutely nothing while Connor looked unbearably pleased with himself. If he wasn't my best friend, I would have thrown him out of this office.
“You’re insane,” I muttered.
“Don’t you like me insane?”
“I like you quiet.”
“Ouch.” He pressed a hand to his chest again. “That one hurt my feelings a little.”
I tried to move around him, but he caught my wrist gently. His thumb brushed once over my pulse, and my entire body lit up like he’d struck a match under my skin.
Of course he noticed. Connor noticed everything about me.
His eyes darkened slightly. “Tell me something honestly.”
I swallowed. “What?”
“If Tyler kissed you right now…” His voice stayed quiet. “Would your heart race like this?”
The question landed too hard.
Because I didn’t know.
And Connor saw the answer before I could hide it.
A slow, humorless smile tugged at his mouth. “Yeah,” he said softly. “That’s what I thought.”
My chest tightened painfully.
Before I could say something reckless, the office door slammed open hard enough to rattle the glass walls.
A man I don't recognise stumbled inside, breathing hard.
“Dr. Connor—”
Connor released my wrist immediately and turned.
The man looked pale and shaken. “Damien’s here.”
The room went dead still. Every trace of humor vanished from Connor’s face.
My stomach dropped as I saw the expression on him now completely replaced with a stern look.
“What?” Connor said flatly.
The guard swallowed hard. “He crossed the border twenty minutes ago. He’s demanding a meeting with you at once.”
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