Indefinite

by Corinne Michaels

  I don’t want to do any of that. I want to forget that this is happening and move on with my damn life.

  “We should go dancing!” I say.

  While we may not be the spring chickens we once were, Gretchen and I are going to attempt to stay awake past ten tonight.

  “Dancing? You didn’t want to do anything a minute ago, and now you want to get dressed and go dancing?”

  “Yes. That is what I want. I want to hang out with my best friend and not think about babies, exes, or lists. I want to put on too much makeup and not enough clothes and stay out late, before nothing fits me. We can make this part one of your bachelorette party.”

  She eyes me suspiciously, but I know she’ll never resist the lure of dancing. Gretchen loves the clubs more than I ever did. Ben doesn’t dance, which she’s totally okay with, but I know she misses it.

  Besides, once I get big, I won’t want to dance, so this is as good of a time as any.

  “Sounds like a plan to me! God, I’ve missed this city.” Gretchen sighs.

  “I’ve missed you,” I say feeling emotional.

  “Aww. Aren’t you becoming a big mush?”

  “Whatever.”

  “Why don’t you come to Virginia Beach for a week? Maybe after you tell Quinn that you’re going to have his baby and he dies, you can swing by his funeral before we hang out.”

  My God, she’s insane. “I can’t with you.”

  “I’m just saying, he’s going to lose it.”

  “I know, but a funeral?”

  Gretchen shrugs without apology. “I’m low on creativity lately.”

  “It’s all that sweaty sex with Ben. Got your head slammed on the headboard a few too many times.”

  “That man lives up to his call sign in all aspects of his life. He’s rather . . . large and . . . enthusiastic.”

  I sit on the edge of the bed with a smile. “Now, this I want to hear . . .”

  “Why?”

  “Because . . . it’s sex with your hunky boyfriend.”

  She makes a gagging sound. “You need boundaries.”

  “That ship sailed about twenty years ago. It’s so hard being around my ex, who tends to make my libido spike when I’m so much as in the same room as him.”

  Gretchen grabs two dresses holding them up. I point to the short black one on the left and she nods. “Now you can at least have sex with him whenever you want, right?”

  “Umm no.”

  There will be no more sex. If he wants, there will be co-parenting to the best of my abilities, but he doesn’t have to do anything. I was totally prepared to be a single parent, and this changes nothing.

  At least, it won’t if I can keep ignoring the fact that I love him and he loves me back—or says he does.

  But, even still, I can’t go there. I have to stand my ground, even more so now that there will be a child involved.

  “That’s stupid. Why wouldn’t you bang his brains out?”

  “Because that sort of negates my entire argument about how we’re not getting back together . . .”

  “No one said you had to forgive him.”

  Okay, I’m convinced that she’s had some kind of body invasion. Gretchen is the pragmatic one. She’s ruled by reason and consequences. Every damn time we discuss anything, she’s so over analytical that, by the end, I give up. I’m the one that tells people to do the dumb stuff, and she’s trying to steal my role. No.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you!” I slap my hands against the bed. “You’re never like this. You’re actually advising me to fuck my ex? The same guy who broke my black heart. The same one who I actually shed tears over? I’m missing something.”

  “Did you think Harold ever loved me?”

  Ugh. Not Harold again. He was using her, and she never saw it. No matter how many times we told her, she found some lame excuse to stay with him. I swear I had never seen Gretchen as a weak woman, not until Harold. He was her boss, he took advantage of the situation, and when she was finally going to leave him, he proposed, only to leave her at the altar. I hate Harold and his tiny dick.

  “No. And you know that.”

  She nods as though I made her point. “Right . . .”

  “Right?”

  “Are you trying to be obtuse?”

  “No. I’m not following you.”

  Gretchen gets to her feet and begins to pace. “You and Catherine told me a million times—hell, Harold basically told me as well, but I didn’t listen. In the end, I was the one who was hurt. I was so sure he loved me, like you’re so sure Quinn doesn’t love you.”

  She’s nuts. This is nothing like that. I’m not purposely ignoring my friend’s advice. They both see traits of the men they love in Quinn. Jackson would do anything for Catherine. He’d slay dragons with one arm behind his back. Ben would smash anyone who ever tried to make Gretchen feel small. They’re failing to see that those guys are men while Quinn is a little boy.

  “Gretchen, we were telling you because you were making a mistake. It wasn’t because we did or didn’t like him. That’s the difference.”

  “Oh, of course, only you’re right when it comes to this?”

  I’m glad she sees that. “Pretty much.”

  “You’re an idiot. Quinn loves you, and both Catherine and I see it. You’re making the same mistake only in reverse. But you know what? That’s on you.”

  “Is this what you came to New York for?” I ask. “To get me to change my mind?”

  Her eyes widen, and her jaw falls slack. “No! I came here to help you pick your baby daddy, which you didn’t actually need me for, and because Quinn asked me to come while he was away.”

  We’ll get to that second part later because that makes no sense. I’ve lived in this city for years by myself, and there’s no reason why anyone should be worried about me being alone. Ridiculous.

  “Since it seems your mission is done, can we go out and enjoy our night without thinking or talking about Quinn?”

  “Of course. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, Gretch. This is what we do.”

  We’re the friends who can say whatever it is that we truly think and then get over it and move on. Which is exactly what I want us to do. Fighting about this isn’t going to change my mind.

  “Well, let’s have fun and dance the night away.”

  I smile and nod once. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

  Now, let’s see if I can actually accomplish it.

  18

  Quinn

  “What the fuck am I doing?” I ask Liam as I slam my hand onto the counter. “Why am I going back there?”

  “I don’t know. I guess you should stay here since it’s not going your way, right?”

  I’d really like to punch him in the face, but since I’m standing in his kitchen, that seems a bit rude. “Thanks for the advice.”

  “It’s better than the shit you fed me when I was dating Lee.”

  I was so stupid then. I had this idea of what was right and wrong, and I was a shitty friend. He wasn’t doing anything inappropriate, but there’s a code we live by, and fucking another SEAL’s wife—even if he was dead—was not okay. However, all anyone needed to do was spend a minute with them together to see they were right for each other.

  Natalie made Liam a better man. Liam gave Natalie strength when she needed it.

  Still, I didn’t support my best friend, and for that, I’m still sorry. “I was a dick.”

  “You still are,” he says with a laugh.

  “Yeah, but I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

  Liam sighs. “We’ve already had this out, dude. We’re fine. You came running here when the unit returned from deployment, and I don’t understand why. Other than you’re lost and needed my expert advice because you probably fucked up your plan to wear her down.”

  And I guess I’m still stupid too.

  I thought that Ashton would’ve seen the truth
and come around. Sure, she kisses me like she can’t help herself and we had some pretty fantastic sex, but then she always walks away. Her touching me is more of a reflex than a want, and I’d like it the other way around.

  “None of it is working in a meaningful way.”

  “Well, let’s recap your brilliance, shall we?” The sarcasm in his voice is not at all reassuring that he believes I’m at all brilliant. “First, you arrive at her parents’ house without talking to her first and use your injury to get sympathy. Then, you rent a room in the same apartment building she lives in with the purpose of proving you’re not going anywhere. Really smart.” His tone is pissing me off. “But that’s nothing compared to you following her around even when she’s pretty much said in a hundred ways she doesn’t want you there. Let me know if I missed any key points. Oh, wait, I forgot, you screwed her too—and not in a way that proves you love her.”

  Natalie walks into the room, rolling her eyes. “Don’t give up, Quinn. Women love to be pursued!”

  “See, your wife thinks it’s a good idea.”

  “She didn’t say that. She just said not to give up. We all know this is going down in a blaze of glory, which I’m assuming you know as well. I’m not sure how you think this plan of yours will work.”

  “That’s not what I said.” Her hand rests on Liam’s shoulder. “I think it’s admirable that you’re going there. When I was dealing with my life falling apart, Liam was here. Showing up is what a woman wants. I know it feels worthless because nothing seems to be changing, but you have to put in the time.”

  No amount of time is going to work, and that’s the scary part of it all. I’m not going to win her back because I’ve failed her too many times.

  “And if time isn’t enough?” I ask.

  Natalie smiles softly. “Then you’ll have to ask yourself if you did enough. Ashton has a huge heart, and no matter what she says, it belongs to you. She needs to find a way to trust you with it again.”

  I know she’s right.

  “So, what’s your plan?” Liam asks as he takes a drag of his beer.

  “I’m submitting early discharge papers tomorrow or a medical release and moving to New York.”

  The beer goes flying across the room and both of them stare at me. “You’re what?” He practically yells his question.

  “I’m getting out. She’s more important than all of this. She wants a husband who isn’t always leaving. She wants kids and a life that I can’t give her while I’m still enlisted. Ashton has a great job there, I won’t ask her to leave it.”

  Natalie opens her mouth and closes it. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  “Why are you two so shocked?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re the one who gave me shit when I talked about getting out. You said this life is all men like us know, and you’ve suddenly had a change of heart?”

  I walk around the counter and sit across from him. Liam has been my best friend for more years than I care to count, and I’ve always had his back, just like he’s had mine. There’s a brotherhood in our line of work, but ours is even deeper than that. He’s the guy that I never have to question. When he’s on my six, I know I’m set. He explains it the same way.

  No matter which way one person turns, the other has already anticipated that move. It seems I caught him off guard for the first time.

  “And I believed that. I thought the team is what made me who I am, and now I see that’s not the case.”

  “All it took was an IED to make you see it . . .”

  I roll my eyes. “You about done being a dick?”

  He shrugs. “Maybe. It’s too easy when it comes to you.”

  Natalie slaps his arm. “Stop it. If this were me, what would you do to win me back?”

  This should be good.

  Liam releases a heavy sigh. “Everything. I would stop at nothing until I had you where you belong—with me.”

  Her eyes go soft. “Exactly. So, how about you stop giving him so much crap and actually help him out?”

  I think I just fell in love with Natalie.

  Liam goes quiet, and knowing him as well as I do, I know he’s trying to find the words in the best way to tell me to give up. “Listen, man, I know you love her. I feel for you on a deep brotherhood level there. When you know that she’s the girl for you, it’s impossible to let that go. I think the way you’re doing it isn’t working. Getting out is a start, but . . . if we were in the trenches, what would you do? How would you get yourself out of the place you’ve pinned yourself?”

  I think about it in a different way. If I were in a tactical situation and the enemy line was holding strong and there were no weaknesses, I’d adapt. There’s always a way, it’s finding the method of achieving success that is the tricky part.

  “I need to change my plan.”

  “Yeah, that’s a start.”

  “I need to prove it and not by pissing her off.”

  “Another good idea. One more, and we might have ourselves a miracle.”

  I ignore the asshole’s comment. What can I do? What is it that she needs? “She wanted me to choose her, let her into my life. All she ever wanted was to matter.”

  He clears his throat and fake cries. “My little boy is growing up.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “I’m glad you’re pulling your head out of your ass, Quinn. Now, figure out how to show her that, and you might just get your girl back.”

  Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

  19

  Ashton

  I called out of work today, which is a rarity for me, but I need a mental health day after Gretchen left last night. I’m still reeling from the news that I’m with child—Quinn’s child—and decided sleeping in and trying to get my head together was necessary. Normally, I would head to Jersey and see my parents when trying to hide, but that didn’t work out too well last time, so today, I’m going to embrace my city. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to do any of the Manhattan type things.

  Since my entire life is filled with the daily sightings that most people come here for, I tend to forget to stop and appreciate them.

  I’m going to change that. Besides, the sunshine and fresh air might help me make sense of the muddled crap inside my brain.

  I open the door to my apartment, and there is a huge vase filled with red roses. I lean down and grab the card.

  * * *

  Fragolina, Roses are red, just like your head. If you could forgive me, I’d take you to bed.

  * * *

  I burst out laughing. Only Quinn would freaking leave a card like that.

  Adorable idiot, but still.

  Once I bring the flowers inside, I grab my phone and send him a text. We should probably talk soon anyway.

  * * *

  Me: Thank you for the flowers and your offer for a repeat. I see you’re back in town.

  * * *

  Quinn: I owe you a lot more than flowers. I’m here, but I’ll keep my distance since that’s what you want.

  * * *

  Oh, Quinn, you have no idea how much that is going to change.

  I know I need to tell him, but I’m not ready. I haven’t even grasped this entire thing. My head and my heart are at war, and soon enough, I know he and I will be as well.

  * * *

  Me: Okay. Well, thank you. Does this mean you’re leaving again soon?

  * * *

  Quinn: No.

  * * *

  That makes no sense.

  * * *

  Me: I don’t get it. If you’re going to keep your distance, then what exactly are you doing in New York?

  * * *

  Quinn: Exactly what I came to do, win your heart again.

  * * *

  My initial response is to tell him to give it up and that it’s never going to happen. Then there’s this other part of me that whispers how much I love him and that I’m unable to resist him. There’s a part of him that’s growing inside of me ma
king my heart soften toward him.

  Had he never come back, I could’ve gone on with everything. I would’ve had no issues navigating my decision to have a baby because, when we parted, that was it for me. Sure, I cried, hated him, went through all the stages of grief, but I was right at the beginning of acceptance.

  But he did come back, and he got me pregnant, throwing all my plans to shit. What am I going to do now? I’ll have to see him. There’s no way Quinn will be an absentee father like his was. That man screwed with his head so much that he’s still recovering from it.

  He’ll want to be a father to our child, but that doesn’t mean that I have to let him back into my life, right?

  Right.

  I groan at the flowers. “Stupid boy!”

  Instead of allowing this to fester, I choose to let it go and keep my plans to ignore him and pay attention to the rest of the world.

  When I open the door this time, my plans are thwarted once again.

  “I preferred the flowers,” I say.

  “I prefer you.”

  Quinn is there, unshaven with the scruff almost a beard, his hair is pushed to the side, and his smile is heartbreakingly beautiful. If his shirt weren’t practically painted to his thick arms or his muscles weren’t quite so defined, it would make it easier to ignore him.

  Then my mind recalls the way he looked naked, and damn if I don’t want to pull him inside and see about taking him to my bed instead of the couch.

  “I was on my way out,” I reply, hoping he’ll take the hint that he’s not required.

  His eyes rake my body, taking in the sweatshirt dress and chucks I’m wearing. I wanted to be cute and comfortable for my outing.