“To tell me what’s going on? Warn me that I’m on your parents’ hit list for having the audacity to hang out with you?”
“I did not think it through,” he says, gaze on mine, each word enunciated. “I said that I am not accustomed to thinking of others, and I meant it. I—”
He runs his hand over his mouth. “Excuses. I’m making excuses and shifting the blame. I can do better.”
He straightens. “I made a mistake. Multiple mistakes that disrespected you and our friendship, and possibly put you in danger.”
He pauses, and gives a sidelong look, waiting for me to recognize the bravery in acknowledging his mistakes.
I look down at the phone. Still spinning.
“I had no intention of allowing you to be endangered,” he says. “That’s why I stopped returning your texts. That’s why I showed up in person, instead. That’s why I rented a car. However, that was patronizing of me.”
Another of those looks that begs for a little credit. I tap the phone as if that can make it find me a ride faster.
He continues, “If you feel in danger now—which is your right to feel—then please allow me to accompany you on the ride share, for your safety.”
“How the hell does that help? I’d still be with you.”
Silence. More silence. The wheel on the app slows, only to pick up speed again.
“You would prefer not be with me,” he says. “Under the circumstances.”
“No, Aiden. I would prefer to have that choice and to know the circumstances.” My phone blips and look down to see a “Match Not Found” alert. I let out an oath.
“Allow me to drive you home, Kennedy,” he says. “If you would prefer not to, then allow me to summon a hired car for you. That will be both safer and more efficient.”
I hit Search again, but when the message pops up immediately, I shut the app.
“I’m furious, Connolly.”
“As you have every right to be.”
“And I would feel very stupid—and gullible—getting into a car with you after what you’ve done.”
“I understand, but I’m also the one who put you into this situation.” He holds out the keys. “Take the car. Please. I can rent another.”
“You’re not giving me your car, Aiden.”
“It’s a rental. I’ll have it retrieved from Unstable tomorrow.”
“I’m not stranding you here.”
“You are unable to book a ride share because no driver wants to take you all the way to Unstable. I can easily get a lift to a rental company.” He takes out his phone and punches in the address. A moment later, “There. My driver will arrive in five minutes.”
I shove my hands in my pockets. “It probably seems as if I’m overreacting—”
“It doesn’t.”
“But it feels like it.” I exhale. “It also feels, though, like if I let you drive me home, I’m sending the wrong message. Saying what you did is no big deal.”
“It is a big deal. I understand that now, and allowing me to take you home in no way implies a lessening or undervaluing of your anger.”
I hunch my shoulders and peer down the darkening street. “What if I accept the ride and say I want to check out that address for the painting, since we’re almost there?”
“In that case, I would conclude that you are accepting the ride because you are understandably concerned about the painting. Concerned enough to permit that to override your anger.”
I scuff one heel against the sidewalk. Then I mutter, “Cancel the ride. I really don’t want to be in a car with you right now, but it’ll keep me awake at night if I don’t check it out.”
“Understood.”
Chapter Seven
Seven
“I’m going to need something from you,” I say as we hit the road again.
“A promise that I will not permit my parents to interfere in your business?” he says. “You have it.” He glances over. “I will handle this, and you will not suffer in any way for our friendship. I swear that.”
His expression is so earnest that I can’t bring myself to point out the impossibility of such a guarantee. Connolly’s biggest problem with his parents is a lack of control. He’s spent his life moving this particular goal post. As a child, he’d have set it at his first year of college. Just get out of the house, and he’d be free of their influence. Okay, so he won’t be truly free until he’s eighteen and legally an adult. Move the goal post there. Okay, he’s an adult now, but he’s still a dependent in college. Move it to graduation. Hmm, now his parents want to invest in his business, and he doesn’t have a credit rating so, fine. Start the business. Skimp and save to pay them back. There, free at last. Oh, wait. There’s Rian, who still works for the family business, and so Connolly has to run interference. Fine, but now Rian is finally making moves to become independent and . . .
And then there’s the marriage contract.
Connolly is like a fairytale prince locked in a tower. He gets out of the tower, only to find a shark-infested moat. Clears that to discover he’s in an endless forest. Oh, and then there’s the desert beyond . . . With each obstacle, I’m sure he blames himself for miscalculating. Yet everyone else can see the truth—that the wicked king and queen are erecting new obstacles as fast as he clears the old ones, and unless he does something drastic, he’s never escaping their hold. They won’t let him.
At some point, Connolly is going to need to make hard choices. I can’t make them for him. I can’t even suggest them. He needs to see the weapons laid out before him and select one, rather than keep dodging the fight. He’s looking for compromise, and his parents see only a refusal to take up arms, which suits them just fine.
“I don’t need a promise, Aiden. If I am part of this, then I need to take control of my corner. I want to speak to your parents.”
In his silence, I make the mistake of sensing victory. He sees my point and—
“Absolutely not.”
My hackles rise. “Is that an order?”
“If I could give that order, I would. As I cannot, it is only the most extreme advice. You do not want to do that, Kennedy, and if you insist, I will do everything in my power to keep you from making that mistake.”
“Mistake . . .” I say, my voice low.
He hear the warning in my voice and looks me square in the eye. “Yes, mistake.” He turns back to the road. “There is no possible way you can confront my parents and win, and if you see that as an insult, it is not. I presume you don’t mean to confront them in any aggressive sense. You intend to reason with them, yes?”
“Yes. You think I’m incapable of that.”
“No, I think they are incapable of that. They will turn this into a confrontation, and they will use it against you. You cannot reason with anyone who does not respect you.”
“They don’t respect me because they don’t know me.”
His hands adjust on the steering wheel. “I have spent my life trying to win my parents’ respect, Kennedy. If I say you will not do it in an hour, that is no reflection on you. They have cast you into a role, and they will not allow any deviation from it, as they will allow me no deviation from mine.”