We drove to the restaurant in penetrating silence; the streetlamps flickered like fireflies on parked cars as we passed while the static of my swirling emotions marred my thoughts. We ordered and politely chatted while waiting for our food. Although talking would be a stretch, Conner was not the most talkative. He seemed conflicted, and it stirred annoyance in me. Maybe years of Jacob's puppy-dog attention spoiled me, but the partial attention I kept getting from Danny and now Conner grated on me.

"Is there something you want to say?" I finally grumbled.

He just shook me off.

"What's your problem?" I demanded.

"You, Danny, you and Danny." There was bubbling in his cadence; he was struggling to stay steady.

"And what exactly is your problem with us?" I hoped Conner would miss the awkward tone of 'us.'

"Because one or both of you are in denial."

"Maybe we're not in denial. Maybe we're making a choice that has nothing to do with you. Besides, why do you even care?"

"I don't." As he answered, a curt waitress dropped off our burgers.

We ate in silence. I couldn't help but glance over at Conner a few times, hypnotized by his emerald eyes beneath his sandy brown hair. I could have sworn I caught him looking back at me a few times, but pushed it down as a desire I wasn't willing to admit.

As we left, Conner's shoulders tense and he reached for my hand protectively. "Take the keys, and no matter what, get in and lock the doors."

I was processing his sudden change in demeanor when a goad came from barely behind us.

"Hey, pretty girl." It was a sickly slither of sound that impacted me a thousand times harder than Kyle.

Conner just pushed me forward as I stumbled in confusion. He moved me at a faster pace than comfortable, but not fast enough.

"Hey, don't be rude," came closer in the same cloying tone.

Conner dropped my hand, causing panic to rise in me in a mix of painful heartbeats and labored breaths. I wanted to stop and wait for him, demand he take my hand back, but his prodding echoed in my mind, pushing me to get to safety and lock the doors. Moments later, the sound of a fist hitting bone echoed through the parking lot. It was an unmistakable sound, a soft, sticky crunch that hung in the humidity. I hoped it was Conner doing the punching and not the other way around. 

The car was in front of me, but I had forgotten how to open the door. I fumbled for a split second before the door flung open in my hand. Footsteps neared as Conner came running in my direction. Behind him, there was a guy on the ground, while three others were running after Conner. I stuck the key in the ignition and flung open his door as he had for Kyle that first night. He was there, throwing the car in drive and pulling out so fast I barely sat back.

Once out of the parking lot, Conner let out an exhale.

"Fuck. Punching people hurts." He shook out his hand over the steering wheel.

"What just happened?" Everything was still a blur in my mind.

"That guy was a dick."

"Did he try to..."

"He didn't have time to try anything, so there's no reason to conjecture on what he was trying to do." His eyes fixed on the road as he spoke, but continued to shake out his hand.

"Your hand is bleeding!" I smelled the warm copper of blood before I saw the red gleam on his knuckles.

"Yeah, well, at least it's not my face."

"Conner, give me your hand."

I held out a hand, and he gingerly laid his on it. Conner's chivalry had ripped off the skin on his knuckles at every peak, and it was already swelling. Tenderly, I let my other hand glide over the side of his.

"You need ice."

"It'll be fine," he murmured.

"Pull over," I whispered.

I knew he would. He pulled into an empty hardware store parking lot. The blue lights cast an odd air around the night. He weakly protested when I got out, but I didn't hear what he was saying. I walked around the front, meeting him a few paces from his door.

"Em," his tone was worn and tattered, but I didn't wait to listen to his words anymore.

The moment he neared, I threw my arms around his neck and buried my face in his shoulder.

"Hey," his arms gently wrapped around me as I had predicted. One of his rough hands smoothed down my hair. Wrapped in him, I was safe. "Em, it's okay. I've hurt my hand worse punching Kyle over Madden." He hugged me tightly, trying to keep me from entirely falling apart, but the tears poured from me, soaking through his t-shirt. "Em, we're okay. I'll never let anything happen to you."

I clung to him tighter, knowing it was true, but wishing Danny was the one I was holding. Danny's smooth voice always calmed me with ease. Still, I knew Conner wouldn't let anything hurt me, including him. He held me patiently in silence until I could finally breathe again.

"I'm sorry," my words creaked.

"Don't be sorry," warmth layered into his tone.

"I mean, I made your shirt all wet; I'm sorry."

He laughed silently, "that's the least of my worries right now."

I pulled away, looking at him, and mustered a feeble smile. He pulled me into another hug, his hands rubbing up and down my back.

"We're okay," he soothed as much to himself as me.

I couldn't help but focus on 'we'; we were okay. I took another deep breath as my nosed filled with Conner's scent before pulling away again.

"You good?" His eyes were studying me again like I was an experiment that he didn't quite know what to do with yet.

"Yeah," I laughed at my dramatics.

"Good, because my hand is killing me."

As we once again settled into the car, Conner gave me a crooked smile and let his fingertips glide over the back of my hand, sending sparks up my arm. It wasn't a request for me; it was just an absentminded touch before his hand returned to the steering wheel.

"Emma..." He whispered as we pulled back onto Kyle's street.

I craved the way Conner said my name.

"Are you okay?" His voice came out small like Sammy's.

"I'm fine. I just got a little freaked out."

But I knew my tears were not from the brawl. I was safe with Conner; I could let my guard down. As much as Danny claimed he was trying to protect me, it was Conner that always seemed to do the protecting, even when I didn't realize I needed it. Deep inside me, I still wanted Danny to soothe me, but Conner was the hero. It was suddenly suffocating; as soon as the car halted, I ripped at the door handle.

"Emma," Conner called after me, but I was already outside the car, gulping in the cool air. "Hey," his voice blanketed me in safety and comfort, pulling me back from the plague of my mind. "Em, what's going on?"

Thoughts whirled between Danny and Conner. Danny's familiar heartbeat was pounding in my ears as though I were resting on his chest. Conner's fingertips were gliding across the back of my hand, then burning my legs. Each of our touches was like scars that remained on my skin and in my thoughts. My chest throbbed from the escaping adrenalin. Conner's emerald eyes were right there, gazing at me. But all I saw were the sky-blue eyes of Danny. The way his shaggy hair would tickle my face when he would press his forehead to mine. Just as fast, there was Lily, the giggle she shared as she led Danny upstairs.

Hurt, anger, and frustration soared through me before erupting in, "Danny is just a friend." I didn't mean to speak out loud, and certainly without the blurting cadence.

"I wasn't talking about you and Danny." The edge was there now, a harshness to his tone.

I opened my mouth to say something, but he pivoted to me, so he was inches from my face.

"Look at me, Emma." There was nowhere else to look; he was right there scanning me. The heat from him enveloped me as I watched the tick of his pulse in his neck.

"What are your worries?" I spat out before Conner could say anything.

"What?" The question startled him, causing him to adjust away from me by a few inches unconsciously.

"You said that your t-shirt was the least of your worries. What are your worries?" I pressed.

He recoiled further at my prodding. "I don't like whatever it is between you and Danny." As he spoke, he shook out his hand again, as though the tense topic landed on his bruised knuckles.

"It's what we want," my voice faltered over my lie.

"But what do you need?" He drew up close to me again.

I opened my mouth, but my dry throat stole my words.

"Do you need a bookmark? Another IOU that will never be repaid?"

I was reeling from his words and proximity.

"Five years, and you learned nothing. You jumped right into another safe role. Being told what to do, what to feel." The words stung, but he was right.

I hadn't even seen it coming. I fell further back as Conner's hands reached out to steady me. His confidence evaporated with concern for a split second before he was back to his resolve.

"What do you need?" He pressed.

"I don't need anything."

I needed nothing, nor anyone. I was good alone, and at that moment, longed for solitude. I didn't need Danny's arms to make me feel strong, Jacob's hand to walk across the lunchroom, and I didn't need Conner to be my hero. I could do all that on my own.

For the briefest of moments, I could have sworn I saw a smile creep onto Conner's face.

"What do you want?" He pressed on.

I knew where this would end. Maybe I had always known when I sat next to him that night. Conner needed no answer; I met his gaze and matched his confidence. He crashed into me. All at once, my body was aware of every touch as our bodies collided. There was kinetic energy that rushed between us. We were connected but independent of each other. As quickly as it started, he pulled away. We stood there for a moment, catching our breath and letting our hearts catch up.

"Push me away, Emma." There was a pleading this time. "Tell me no. Because I won't."

I couldn't. At that moment, I was confident of only one thing: I hated the distance between Conner and me. He needed to be closer.

"He can't know. It will..." he didn't say it, but I knew what he was thinking. He ran a hand through his hair but still stayed close to me, linked. "Emma, I can't..." He strained. "I can't take you from him..." The words were labored and hard. "Please, just tell me you don't feel this."

"I can't." There was a flicker of hope that quickly went dark again. "Conner, how can you expect me to push you away? He keeps telling me we're friends. You keep being there exactly when I need you, exactly what I need."

"He's my best friend. He doesn't know what he wants. I'm not convinced you do either." His even tone was masking a scream deep within himself.

"Do you know what you want?" I was baiting him as he gaped at me.

His hurricane gaze tried to knock me over. The distance had been too far again; he crashed back to me. This time, the ability to stop evaporated from our heat. His muscular arms lifted me effortlessly from the ground as I clung to him entirely. He propped me on the hood before pulling away again.

"Get out of here with me?" The excitement in his voice infected me.

I managed just a slight nod, and he eagerly grabbed my hand. Neither of us could hold in giggles as we ran along an empty playground in the middle of the neighborhood. I knew that Conner's place was a couple of doors down from where Danny lived, but had never been there. I floated with a reckless levity. His home had the familiar layout of Danny's place except for the heavy smell of cigarettes. I trailed along after him, tugged along by his grip as we climbed the stairs.

Conner's room whirled around me, but I didn't focus on anything but him. His powerful arms circled me as we fell as one to his bed. I braced for his impact that never came; instead, he caught himself on his elbows, so only a soft rush of him came to me. He wanted me, and I needed to be desired.