Quarantined With My Ex

by Brynn Paulin

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Quarantined With My Ex

  Copyright

  Thank You!

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Books by Brynn Paulin

  Quarantined With My Ex

  By Brynn Paulin

  Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC

  Powered by Your Imagination

  Quarantined With My Ex

  by

  Brynn Paulin

  When you break up, it’s over, right? You go your separate ways and a cop doesn’t come and drop the ex at your place. Right?

  Unless that ex’s name is still on the lease.

  Now, I’m face-to-face with the dumb jerk who messed up things between us until we took a ‘break’ because we couldn’t even talk anymore.

  Except…darn it, I still love him.

  Now to get through quarantine with both of us alive and our sanity intact.

  Copyright

  © 2020, Brynn Paulin

  Quarantined With My Ex

  Cover Art by Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC

  Electronic Format ISBN: 978-1-62344-364-1

  Published by: Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC

  Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

  Thank You!

  Thank you for your purchase of Quarantined With My Ex.

  I hope you enjoy the story and will consider leaving a review or telling a friend about the book.

  I love hearing from readers! To keep in touch and follow my news, please visit me on my website at www.brynnpaulin.com.

  Chapter One

  ~ McKenna Daniels ~

  “No,” I said flatly. “You can’t be serious. You can’t….can’t… You cannot quarantine me with him.”

  “This is his address,” the officer, wearing a safety mask, told me, his voice disinterested. Obviously, he wanted to get this over with and be on his way. Didn’t we all? “The entire city is under lockdown which means all those who are non-essential need to stay in their residences.”

  “He doesn’t live here,” I growled. “It’s essential to me he’s not here.”

  The cop lifted a brow and shook his head. He glanced at the man standing a respectable six feet from him, his arms crossed, a couple suitcases, a laptop bag and a guitar case at his feet. Even though he was wearing a mask, I could see his annoying, amused expression just fine. Daniel Fucking McKenna. My ex. The last person on the planet I wanted to see…ever.

  “Sir, do you have another residence?”

  “Nope,” he replied. “She kicked me out, so I’ve been living in my van.”

  I hadn’t kicked him out, and he knew it. His leaving had been a mutual decision, but I wasn’t about to start an argument in front of the cop. Poor guy was just doing his job, even if it was dumping Daniel on my doorstep.

  “You can’t quarantine in your van.” He turned to me and repeated, “He can’t quarantine in his van.”

  “Yeah, McKenna, I can’t quarantine in my van,” Daniel added for good measure.

  I hated him.

  He was already getting on my last nerve. Just. By. Breathing.

  “I heard that,” I growled.

  “Good,” the cop said, obviously done with us. He threw a glance at my ex. “Make sure you stay put, or you’ll get fined for a misdemeanor.” With that, he marched off, leaving us alone.

  “You going to let me in?” Daniel asked, pulling off his mask and shoving it in his jeans’ pocket.

  “Whatever.” I turned away, hoping the apartment door would shut and lock before he caught it. No such luck. I heard the impact as he grabbed it. Then the scuffle as he wrestled his bags inside.

  “I like what you’ve done with the place,” he said when he walked into the living space. The kitchen and living room were an open plan, taking up about two-thirds of the spacious apartment—spacious by big city standards anyway.

  “Fuck. Off,” I replied. I hadn’t done a thing to change it in the month he’d been gone, and he knew it. I hadn’t even bothered with the Christmas tree. I wasn’t even close to festive, plus every bit of my—our…no…my—holiday decor had been purchased with him. I couldn’t handle that.

  “So angry,” he muttered.

  I pinned him with a death glare but didn’t say a word. How long were we on this lockdown? A month at least. Maybe more. No one knew for sure.

  I might be in lock-up before this was done. For murder.

  “Why so mad?” he asked.

  “Why do you think?” I snapped. “And wash your hands and sanitize yourself before you touch anything. I don’t want anything you’ve brought home—I mean back here. Not home. This isn’t your home. Not anymore.”

  “Why the hell would you think I brought something home?” he asked. I glared at him, both at his emphasis of the word home and his blatant refusal to admit what he’d probably slept with anyone who’d let him since we’d been apart. I knew his sex drive. And right now, he was really trying to piss me off.

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “Not touching anything will be pretty hard. It’s a thousand square foot apartment.”

  It wasn’t quite that large. But I refused to argue that point, either. I was done arguing with him a few weeks ago. I may or may not have fought with him in my head for days after he’d gone. I wouldn’t confirm it—especially to him.

  “Then pick a foot and stay in it,” I growled, heading for my bedroom—the only bedroom. It was mine, and he could deal with it.

  “Are you really going to make me sleep on the couch?” he called through the closed door.

  I glared at the wood. “No. I won’t make you sleep on the couch. Feel free to sleep on the floor.”

  “Kenna,” he protested, sounding growly himself.

  Ignoring him, I threw myself down on the queen-sized bed that was plenty big enough for both of us. We’d slept together here for a couple years.

  And it hurt. It hurt so bad that everything had disintegrated between us. My eyes burned, and I rolled onto my side and buried my face in my pillows. I hated that it still hurt so much. I hated that I couldn’t heal. I might never heal from him. From the disappointment and disillusion.

  “Kenna,” Daniel said, sounding as if his whisper came from a few feet away rather than the other side of the door.

  I rolled over and found him standing right over me. “Get out,” I said, ashamed that he’d caught me like this. I hated crying. I wasn’t a crier. But Daniel had gutted me, I was emotional, and now, I was stuck with him for the foreseeable future. What bad thing had I done that the universe was punishing me like this?

  He sat beside me and reached for my hand, which I pulled away before he could touch me. “I didn’t cheat on you while we were apart. You know I wouldn’t ever do that.”

  I eyed him. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It fucking matters!” His angry exclamation should have startled me, but part of me liked it. Masochist.

  “You know what they say. Absence makes the heart grow fonder…or
not. It just told me that I don’t love you.”

  He scowled, his face set in challenge. “You fucking love me.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “Because I’m frustrated,” I spat. “I don’t want to be stuck in my place with someone whose life goals are so different from mine. I don’t want to be here with you. All we’re going to do is fight!” My voice rose to match my frustration, and I hated it. I hated that he knew he had any kind of power over me.

  “We’re not going to fight!” he yelled back. “We’re good together. We’re supposed to be together!”

  “Obviously not,” I whispered.

  “Kenna…”

  “Please just go.”

  This was great. Less than five minutes, and we were already yelling.

  He stood there in silence, each of us staring from either side of the insurmountable, invisible wall that stood between us.

  Then, for once, he listened. I turned away from the door, my face pressed to the pillows and splayed my hand on my flat belly. He absolutely didn’t want a baby. I absolutely did. Things had broken down from there until we’d barely been speaking. The Monday before Thanksgiving, he’d left so we could both have space to figure things out.

  It was supposed to be a couple days to cool off, to realize we couldn’t live without each other.

  Then I’d found out I was pregnant, and it was out of my hands. Daniel didn’t want a baby, and I couldn’t force one on him, and I wouldn’t let my baby feel unwanted, because it was wanted. I wanted this baby more than anything.

  More than almost anything. I wanted Daniel, with his arms around me, loving me and this child. God, why did I have to love him so much?

  Chapter Two

  ~ Daniel McKenna ~

  We were meant to be. Like salt and pepper, sugar and spice, coffee and cream… Kenna and I were meant to be together. Hell, we almost had the same name, which had caused a lot of confusion for the mail carrier when we’d both lived in the same building across town before we’d moved here. And that’s how we’d met. We’d constantly had to exchange mail because it was regularly miss-slotted.

  Three years later, we’d both finished school and we’d both gotten jobs here. I worked for an ad agency and she was a junior editor for a publishing house. And I’d been days from popping the question when the discussion had happened, just like the mini-torpedo I’d always thought a baby would be. And our relationship had exploded. We couldn’t grapple back to even footing, even though we tried for weeks.

  I’d told her we were too young. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t think either of us were ready. We needed to be more settled in our jobs, have a bigger place, maybe try to raise a dog first…

  I’d argued everything but the truth.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want a baby. I’d desperately wanted to see McKenna pregnant with our child. I’d been told it would likely never happen.

  How embarrassing was it to admit that I’d had a traumatic injury to my sac due to a skateboarding accident. It didn’t even seem as if it could be real, but it had happened to me. There was internal scarring, and at last check, I had a low enough sperm count to be considered infertile.

  And it had been dishonest of me not to tell Kenna. I’d planned to. Someday. At the right time. But the right time had never come up. Then having a baby had dropped into conversation. Her eyes had almost glowed with the hope of how much she wanted our child. Not just any child, but our child.

  I’d freaked out.

  I’d been afraid to lose her and look where I was now? I’d lost her anyway.

  My closest friend, Kyle, thought I was an idiot. “McKenna loves you. She won’t care if your dick don’t work,” he’d said.

  “It works,” I’d argued. Thankfully, there had never been a problem with that. Apparently, so much so that she now thought I’d had a lineup of ladies over the past month. What the fuck? As if I’d want anyone after Kenna. She’d ruined me for all time. She was my one and only. The last weeks aside, we were perfect together, and even through this rocky period, I’d loved her to the deepest parts of my soul.

  That would never change.

  Slouching onto the couch, which had taken Kenna and me six weeks to decide on buying, I crossed my arms and stared up at the high ceiling. I couldn’t lose her. I just had to trust that she’d understand when I told her why—Kenna wasn’t a coldhearted person. She’d be pissed that I hadn’t told her right away, but I doubted she’d actually break up with me because I couldn’t give her the baby she wanted. But I knew she wouldn’t be happy, even if she put on a brave face and tried. My guilt would grow every day, because I’d be denying her the one thing she wanted. I couldn’t do that to her. Yet, I was selfish, too. It ate me up inside, trying to do the right thing, afraid I was doing the wrong thing, and riddled with guilt over it.

  Kenna came from a massive family with lots of kids. Over the past three years it had seemed like there was always a new baby popping out. And while she didn’t want a huge family, she did want a couple children. I hadn’t known that until recently. I should have. I should have realized it.

  And I should let her find a man who could provide that.

  But I really was selfish.

  I couldn’t lose her.

  We had to find a way.

  And I had to remind her that she loved me, despite what she’d said a few minutes ago. Getting up, I went to the bedroom door and rapped lightly. “Kenna,” I said softly.

  I heard her sniffle, and it tore at my heart. “What?”

  “Have you eaten?”

  There was a long silence. “No,” she finally said.

  “Okay, I’m going to make us something.”

  “Daniel—”

  “I’m going to make us something,” I repeated.

  She didn’t argue, perhaps understanding from my forceful tone that I meant business. Not waiting for her response, I walked away from the door and over to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I stared at the meager contents. Fruit, veggies, almond milk…

  “You might want to arrange a delivery,” she said, and when I looked over, she was leaning against the bedroom door jamb. “None of the junk you like is in the fridge.”

  “I’m sure I’ll manage. When you get a chance, I need the apartment key.”

  “Why?”

  “You changed the locks, and I need to go down to my van to get the rest of my stuff. I have some food, too. But if you won’t let me in…”

  She sighed and looked out the window. “I didn’t change the locks.”

  She didn’t? All this time I could have just…come back?

  “Well, I’m going to run down to the parking garage and grab those things, then I’ll whip up something. Maybe shrimp scampi?” I suggested since I knew she loved that. I could probably get a grocery order here pretty fast. The stay-at-home order allowed for food shopping. If I had to, I could run to the market down the street.

  She shook her head. “No shellfish. No seafood actually.”

  “Chicken alfredo…?” I offered slowly. Since when did she not like shellfish and seafood?

  “That sounds good.” Her shoulder lifted, and when she looked at me, she attempted a smile. I hated that she was hurting so bad. I’d fix it. If she let me fix it.

  We stared at each other, and I saw longing in her eyes, too. It gave me hope, but at the same time, I noticed how much thinner she was, and she looked more pale than she had before. Her dark-brown eyes appeared enormous in her slightly gaunt face. Had she been so upset that she hadn’t been eating? Guilt ate at me some more. All I wanted in the world was her happiness—Kenna and her happiness, to be clear. I wanted her as much as I wanted air.

  I was failing abysmally.

  While I continued to study her, she watched me. No doubt, she noticed I was a little scruffier than normal. I needed a haircut, but for the past few years, she’d been the one doing them. I couldn’t stand the idea of anyone else doing it. My hand shoved thr
ough my thick wavy locks, and her gaze followed the gesture.

  “You need a haircut,” she murmured.

  “I do.”

  “After dinner, do you want to go on the balcony and I’ll take care of it?”

  “You won’t try to push me over the railing?” I teased. It was unseasonably warm, so the weather wasn’t an issue.

  She made a squinty face at me. “I guess you’d better not get too close to the edge.”

  “Thanks for the warning. I’m going to grab my other stuff, then I’ll cook for us.”

  “Okay. Thanks. Do you need any help?”

  I shook my head. “It’s only a few things.”

  That’s when I knew, though. Me cooking for Kenna. Kenna cutting my hair and offering to help me… We did things for each other. Maybe, I wouldn’t win her over with words, but I could win her over with what I did.

  Chapter Three

  ~ McKenna ~

  How fair was it that he smelled this good, even after living in his van, or that his hair was so soft and thick? I wanted to bury my hands in it while we made love. For hours. That was probably the worst thing about the past few weeks. Besides the morning, AKA all day, sickness. I wanted Daniel morning, noon, and night. All night. And he wasn’t here to help me with the constant, urgent need.

  And now, he was back, and I still couldn’t have him. I suppressed a moan, and quickly finished with his hair. I should have shaved it all off. But that would be as painful for me as it was for him. I loved his locks. The man was so damn gorgeous it hurt. At least, our baby was getting good genes from him.

  “All done,” I said after another minute where I ran my hand through the strands and pretended to snip. If he noticed nothing was falling, he didn’t say a word.

  He shifted, and I noticed he had an enormous hardon. Okay, maybe, he wouldn’t have cared if I’d kept on. He liked me touching him.

  Avoiding temptation, I quickly stowed the scissors in the little toiletries bag I’d set on the small table beside us. The zip was loud as I yanked it shut. I needed to head back inside before I circled in front of him, climbed on and got reacquainted with that wood he was sporting.