Page 25 of It Had To Be You


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Conor followed behind me as I made my way to the counter. “You know what they say is good for migraines?” His voice was low and husky.

“What?” I asked, not paying full attention until he replied. “Orgasms. Lots of orgasms.”

I glared at him while also wanting to laugh. My glare was because there were other customers around who might’ve heard him. I mean, it wasn’t like we were going to scandalise any New Yorkers by mentioning orgasms, but still. Maybe I was too easily embarrassed.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he said, eyeing me hotly as I snatched a bottle of water then went to the counter to pay. “I think about that day in my office constantly, how you looked on my couch,” he went on while the cashier scanned the box and I handed her some cash.

“Will you stop,” I whispered. “You’re going to make my migraine worse.”

Conor stepped ahead and opened the door for me as we left the pharmacy. I removed two pills from the box, put them in my mouth then swallowed them with a gulp of water.

“Poor baby,” he murmured, his large hand caressing my neck before wandering down to clasp my shoulder. His eyes were bright under the street lamps. The festive lights and decorations in the shop windows made the street seem more romantic somehow.

“Do you think it would be rude if we didn’t go back to the bar?”

“It’s my niece’s and your best friend’s wedding day, Conor,” I answered. “Yes, it would be rude.”

“But you’re not well. Plus, Ev and Dylan are so focused on each other they probably won’t even notice we’re gone. I want to take you home and test out my cure for migraines.” His look was pure flirtation and I struggled to resist his charms.

“Just because I’ve agreed to give this a try doesn’t mean I’m going to jump right into bed with you,” I said as we walked in the direction of the bar. “And besides, that won’t be necessary. The pills are already starting to kick in.”

“So I’ll just make you come for my own personal enjoyment,” he said, leaning into me. “And yours, of course.”

“Maybe you could start by taking me on a date first,” I said, having to work to catch my breath.

“Hmm, you’re my date at this wedding. Does that count?”

“No, it doesn’t. And I’m not your date. We’re individual guests.”

“Individual guests who have just agreed to start seeing each other.”

I shook my head at him. “You don’t quit, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you,” he said, kissing my cheek and filling my stomach with butterflies.

We arrived back at the bar and Conor reached forward to open the door for me. I stepped inside and we rejoined our party. I switched to drinking orange juice instead of champagne, while Conor remained glued to my side. His warmth was a constant reminder of this new thing between us. I’d agreed to see where it went but I wasn’t ready to tell anyone yet. It was too new. I wanted to keep it between us for a while.

As the night wore on, we all started to run out of steam and Dylan’s father suggested we divide into groups to take cabs back to the townhouse. I didn’t plan on going with them since I’d brought my things back to my apartment earlier today. Ev and I had only planned to stay for two nights, after all, though I hadn’t anticipated there’d be a spontaneous wedding over the course of our visit.

I stood outside the bar, waving goodbye to everyone as they climbed into cabs before casting my gaze to the road to hail one for myself. It was only as I was lowering into the back of a yellow cab that I felt Conor slide in next to me.

“What are you doing?” I asked in surprise.

He cast me a sultry look. Unlike me, he hadn’t switched to orange juice and had continued drinking long after we’d returned from the pharmacy. “Take me home with you, Yvonne Flynn. Take me home and have your way with me.”

A peel of laughter burst forth. He was drunk, but also very adorable. So adorable that I didn’t have it in me to scold him for hoodwinking me and climbing into my cab without permission.

“Where to?” the driver asked, a faint smirk on his face. He’d clearly heard what Conor said.

I gave him my address before returning my attention to the very drunk man next to me. “I’ll take you home, but the only thing I’ll be doing with you is handing you a large glass of water before tucking you in on my couch.”

“Promises, promises,” Conor said, his eyes hooded as he placed his hand on my knee. Slowly, he began to move it up my thigh before I stopped him.

“That’s enough,” I scolded, unable to help smiling as I returned his hand to his own lap.

His eyes found mine. “Nothing’s ever enough with you.”

“You’re far too charming when you’re drunk. It’s not fair.”

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