#connor mcdavid

The first time they fucked, he couldn’t get it up. He told her it was the meds, the painkillers he took for his collarbone pumping through his system and keeping his dick soft. It was half true. The meds made him sluggish in lots of ways. But he couldn’t bring himself to say aloud the worry hiding in his head.

He’d liked her was the thing, liked being around her, more than lots of the guys seemed to like the girls they fucked without issue. And everyone worried less when he mentioned her, told the guys he was seeing Lauren later or that she was the one texting him. If it wasn’t going to happen with her, he didn’t think it would happen at all. He didn’t let himself think about the alternative, about the dreams he sometimes woke up from with sweat soaked sheets and sticky boxers, about Dylan’s calloused hand on him after a win.

He guesses they have even more in common than he’d known then, he thinks now. “Who? You keep saying a friend. You have a lot of friends.” He keeps his voice low, there’s no need to, there’s no one to hear it, they’re alone in a cavernous house.

“Celeste.” She says it with a crispness, doesn’t let herself mumble.

Connor lets out a breath, a small huffing laugh, thinks about how many times he’s heard that name, about the first time he’d met her, the relief Lauren had shown when Celeste had approved him, “That makes sense.”

“I didn’t mean to…” she trails off, “I think I always wanted her, I just never let myself and then, it just happened.”

“And you’re leaving me?”

“Con,”

“You wouldn’t be telling me otherwise, right? It would be pretty fucking easy to have an affair if that’s what you wanted, I’m gone enough.”

“I’m telling you because you deserve to know and yes, I want a divorce, but I’m not…” she pauses, “I don’t want you to be alone.”

“That’s kind of a natural consequence of your wife leaving you.”

“You know I love you, right?” Her hand slides over his, “This isn’t because I don’t love you.”

He nods, swallows the ache in his throat, leans his torso into the cold marble island. “But not the way we’re supposed to love each other.”

“Do you really want to bring that up, Con?” Her eyes are so blue, he feels pierced open.

“I’m not the one leaving.”

“And what, you’ve been with me because you love and want me so much, could never live without me.”

“Laur,” her eyes are teary, he doesn’t want her to cry, “I couldn’t live without you.”

“But you’ve never wanted me.” She looks him in the eye, “She wants me.”

Neither of them say anything for a long time after that. Connor moves to her, tucks his nose into her neck, breathes in and out. Lauren strokes his hair. They stay like that.

“You should have the house.”

“Your name’s on the deed.”

“It’s your baby. And I want you taken care of.” Connor inhales, he can smell Lauren’s perfume, wonders how many more times he will, “I want to take care of you, still.”

“I’ll find a new place for you, an apartment with amenities. I’ll get it set up, figure things out.”

“You don’t have to.”