Page 79 of Rebooting Conor Flynn

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. We’ll figure this out. You?”

“I know we’ll figure this out. The fact that anonymous sent me that text—knows who put the fix in—gives me hope. We just need to get this person talking.”

My hands curled around the sheet. Conor was thinking about our relationship while I was thinking about our careers. What did that say about me? “I was thinking that if this person wants to remain anonymous, he or she probably signed an NDA. And to me that screams Gordon Cooper. Maybe we should just accept that Gordo is the culprit.”

Conor grunted. “I can’t confront him if I don’t have the truth...proof, even if that proof is an anonymous witness.”

“Do you need to confront him?” I licked my dry lips. I didn’t like confrontations. Gordon was powerful. He could probably stop a Five2Go reunion tour if he wanted.

“He changed our lives, Noelle. Nobody has the right to do that.” Conor’s arm hung down from the upper bunk, and he wiggled his fingers.

I reached up and entwined my fingers with his. “I don’t want to see you hurt, Con. Just like with Ashley’s victim scheme. I don’t want you to be the villain when you did nothing wrong except agree to my foolish PR stunt.”

Conor tugged on my hand. “Why’d you do it?”

“Suggest the scheme?” I tried to twist my fingers from his, but he wouldn’t allow it. “Because I knew Orlando and Dina would eat it up. Because it’s the gold standard for publicity. Because I knew it would make me look good—like a team player. I-I just didn’t think you’d accept it.”

He gave a strangled laugh. “I did it for you. I sussed out right away what was going on. You made that suggestion, and suddenly, you became the golden child, the promotion you coveted within your grasp. How could I refuse you that, Noelle? How could I ever refuse you anything? I did it once. It wasn’t going to happen again.”

“When did you ever deny me anything, Conor Flynn?” A tear leaked from one of my eyes and trailed into my ear. “From the moment we met, you made it your job to protect me.”

“Someone had to do it. Baker Street led a little lamb to slaughter with five horny lads tasting fame and fortune for the first time in our lives.”

“Oh, stop. All of you were so lovely from the get-go. So genuine and funny, and God, the talent. I felt like the luckiest girl alive landing that position.”

“We were the lucky ones. The boys still talked about you after you left...until they realized I never joined in. They may have talked about you out of my presence, but they understood what you’d done to me. What I thought you’d done to me.” He gripped my hand. “I’m not letting that person get away with it—whether it’s Gordo or someone else.”

“I don’t see who else it could’ve been. He’s the one with the motive. He didn’t want one of his boybanders getting into a relationship with a normie. He wanted to control your images.”

“I’m gonna find out and reclaim that for us.” He loosened his hold and stroked the back of my hand. “Why would you have to prove that you’re a team player? Have you gone rogue before?”

I sipped in a sharp breath. “I have my own ideas about promotion that doesn’t always match that of 92 West, so I guess you could say I’m problematic at times. It’s why I’m still an assistant.”

“I’m shocked.” He chuckled. “Can you just say fuck it and quit? I mean, your old man has money if you need it. Hell, I have money if you need it.”

“Ugh, failing at my job and asking my father for money would be worse than 50,000 comments on social media calling me a slut, and it would open the door to his controlling behavior.”

“Nobody’s calling you a slut...are they?”

Conor obviously hadn’t been reading the posts.

“No, no. I’m just kidding.”

His fingers tickled my wrist. “If you were a slut, you’d crawl into my bunk up here and let me fuck you senseless.”

Just the toying of my fingers and hand made me wet. His suggestion curled my toes and sent my heart racing. “What is it with you, Con? Can you only get hard in a bus?”

“Yeah, a bus with you in it. Something about the vibration. Can you feel it? Touch yourself and let me know.”

If anyone else up here was awake, could they hear our whispers?

“Are you wet for me?” Conor didn’t care.

“I...”

“Touch yourself, Noelle.”