Rock Bottom

by Emily Goodwin

  “You do overshare,” I laugh.

  “I like to think it’s one of my better qualities.”

  The SUV bumps along the road, and Quinn slows as we drive over another snow drift.

  “Your brother, Sam, is nice,” Quinn says after a minute of silence. “I’ve met him a few times.”

  “He went to your wedding,” I say, remembering Sam’s relentless teasing about going to Disney World to be a groomsman in his friend’s wedding.

  And Dean mentioned his sister got married at Disney World.

  I don’t know how I didn’t put the two together, though it’s not exactly like I was looking to follow the trail of breadcrumbs even if it was laid out in front of me.

  Though now that it is, I’m thinking I should look for a new job in another new state. On the other side of the country. Because I keep messing things up, getting tangled in webs of drama I desperately want to avoid.

  “Archer was excited when he took that job in Chicago.” We slow to a stop and both grimace, watching a teen driver slide through the intersection in a minivan. “I still go to Chicago a few times a month for work.”

  “What do you do?”

  “Simply put, I develop software.”

  “Oh, that’s cool.”

  “I love it. I left a big company a few years ago to start up something with friends. Right now, we’re working on creating robots.”

  “Like robots that could potentially take over the world?”

  Quinn laughs. “If they do, I’ll be able to control them. I’ll give you the cheat codes too.”

  “Thanks,” I laugh. “I went through a phase where I was sure the world was going to end and made it my mission to learn all the survival skills I could, but controlling world-dominating robots wasn’t something they taught us in prepper-camp.”

  “That’s a real thing?”

  “It is,” I laugh. “I still feel like completing a week of it is one of my proudest accomplishments. Not graduating nursing school with honors or the lives I’ve saved using CPR, but surviving a week in the woods shooting zombie-targets with a bow and arrow.”

  “Okay, but that is pretty badass.” She takes her eyes off the road for a second to look at me. “I had a panic room put in our house in case something like that happened. Though now I’m realizing I didn’t think it through since I’m pretty sure my house is haunted.”

  “Ohhhh, I love haunted stuff! What’s going on in your house?”

  “Just weird noises and creepy feelings. I set up thermal cameras and am just waiting for evidence now. You believe in ghosts?”

  “I do. I was a junior ghost hunter with a local ghost-hunting group in my youth.” Amber McMillan called me Spooky Rory that year, which was stupid. If you’re going to give me a mean name, at least make it rhyme or have some cool alliteration.

  “That’s awesome! Maybe I should start one here in Eastwood. You’d have to join, of course.”

  “I’d love that.” I twist my hands in my lap, almost hating how much I like Dean’s sister. She shouldn’t be this awkward and cool at the same time.

  I shouldn’t want to hang out with her after Dean made it clear he didn’t have any interest in seeing me again, which is fine. Fair. I didn’t expect to see him again either.

  And by tomorrow those feelings I thought were real will fade away, I’m sure. Or at least I hope.

  Chapter 15

  Dean

  “I think you’re blowing this way out of proportion,” Quinn says, picking Aiden out of the highchair. All three kids had a meltdown after she left, crying for Mommy, and I couldn’t leave Archer alone to deal with that.

  They were meeting Weston and Scarlet here for a late breakfast, and they showed up before I had a chance to run out of here. And now that Quinn is back, everyone knows how last night unfolded.

  “She gave you a fake name at a bar.” She sits back down, and Aiden snuggles up with her. “Do you want to know how many times I gave fake names to guys at bars?”

  “No,” Weston and I say at the same time.

  Archer turns to her. “I do.”

  “Like once,” she says. “I didn’t go out much.”

  Scarlet leans forward. “I couldn’t tell you how many times I used a fake name even if I wanted to. I agree with Quinn here. You’re being dramatic.”

  “She blew me off and then lied,” I counter, but I know they’re right. If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t care. But Rory wasn’t just anyone.

  Fuck.

  “Fine,” Scarlet goes on. “Did she steal your wallet?”

  “No.”

  “Take cash from your nightstand drawer?”

  “I don’t keep cash in there.”

  “That’s smart.” Scarlet adds sugar to her tea. “Did she try on your expensive Rolex and ‘forget’ to take it off? Write down your credit card numbers? Leave with an expensive Gucci purse?”

  Weston looks at his wife. “You’re speaking from experience, aren’t you?”

  “If I was, would you arrest me?” Scarlet bites her lip and wiggles her eyebrows.

  “As soon as Violet goes down for her nap.”

  “Ew,” Quinn quips but then turns to me. “See? She didn’t con you or anything. She just gave you a fake name. Not a big deal. So you should call her and see her again.”

  “Stop,” I say harshly. Letting out a breath, I rub my forehead. I enjoyed last night. The sex was fucking great, but it was more than that, and I don’t want to go down that path. Not now, not ever.

  Things were ugly after the divorce, as they always are, I suppose. I had to pick up the broken pieces of my heart and rebuild everything I’d worked so hard for.

  Our home.

  Our shared friends.

  Eastwood is a small town. It took effort to avoid Kara at first. She was a teacher at the school Jackson attends, but then she took a transfer and works in Newport, still close enough to run into, but the daily risk of seeing her was gone.

  I blink and it’s like I’m right back there, standing in the hallway looking into our bedroom. I’d never been more pissed in my whole life, and it was a kind of anger I’d never experienced before. It took over my whole body, twisting my mind and darkening my heart.

  I couldn’t think straight. Hell, I don’t even remember exactly what transpired that night.

  There was lots of yelling.

  Swearing.

  Punches were thrown.

  Kara ran after me, crying.

  And then I ended up at Quinn and Archer’s house, sitting on their porch until they came home from dinner. Things passed in a blur the next few days, and I’ve never been happier to have a lawyer in the family. Charlie handled everything, and while I wanted to make Kara hurt at first, I just wanted everything to be over.

  The betrayal hurt like a hot knife to my heart, and my entire life had to be rebuilt. We might not have been the happiest couple, but we had a routine.

  A house.

  A life.

  I’ve rebuilt it all and am pretty damn happy with what I have.

  “I got her number,” Quinn says, trying to be casual as she spreads butter on her pancake. “I can text it to you if you want.”

  “I already have it,” I grumble.

  Quinn’s eyes light up. “So you must like her! You asked for her number.”

  “No, she texted me an hour before we were supposed to go out to say she wasn’t going to make it.”

  Quinn takes a bite of her pancake and makes a face.

  “Something wrong?” I ask.

  “It tastes funny. But anyway, if you like her, call her. Go out again. And she didn’t think you were a loser. She said it was the way Hilary described you.”

  “That doesn’t make it any better. And it’s not her fault, it’s yours.” I point to her and Archer.

  “Hey,” Archer says, catching Emma’s cup of milk a second before it spills. “Sit still,” he says through gritted teeth. Emma has been up and down ten times already and knocked Arya’s water over
twice. Thankfully the cup had a lid on it. “I wouldn’t describe you as a loser and then ask if someone who works with me wants to go out with you.”

  “Then you weren’t being honest,” Weston deadpans. “Because I don’t know how else you’d describe him.”

  “Hah,” I say dryly. “Quinn, I know you mean well, but stop, okay? I don’t want to date anyone.”

  “But you seemed to like her,” Quinn goes on, furthering my annoyance.

  “We had fun.” My mind flashes back to her perfect tits. To how good it felt to be inside her. To have a meaningful conversation with her as well as talk about the most random things and have it feel completely normal…to hear her laugh. Fuck. “Several times.”

  “But you took her out to breakfast because you wanted to spend more time with her, right?”

  Quinn is right. Waking up next to Blaire—I mean, Rory—felt good. We didn’t just hook up, but we got along.

  We clicked.

  And I don’t remember the last time I felt like I clicked with someone like that.

  “Help me out,” I say to Weston. “Tell her to shove off.”

  Weston’s eyes meet mine and he nods before turning to Quinn. “I think it’s time to slow your roll.”

  “Fine,” Quinn huffs. “You guys are no fun. I like Rory. She believes in ghosts and has a cat.”

  “You’re trying to convince him to go out with her again,” Archer reminds her. “I wouldn’t bring up ghosts or cats.”

  “He has a point,” Weston whispers to Quinn, loud enough for us all to hear.

  I reach for my coffee, which is cold by now, and try to remind myself that all Quinn wants is for me to be happy.

  But she doesn’t get it.

  “Fine, I’ll admit she’s nice,” I say, knowing I’m walking a dangerous line. “Nice to talk to. Nice to look at. Nice to…” I trail off and raise my eyebrows. “But it doesn’t matter. I don’t want a relationship,” I press. “I’ve already been down that road and you saw how it turned out.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “No,” I interrupt, pulse rising. “We weren’t perfect, but I did everything right. I showed up. I cared. I tried. Maybe I wasn’t the best husband, but I did what I was supposed to do and look what that got me.”

  Quinn frowns. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine.” I let out a breath and an awkward silence falls over the table, filled only with whatever Emma is making her Barbie say to a pink unicorn.

  “I need to use the bathroom,” Quinn says, handing Aiden to Archer. Her brow is furrowed and her cheeks are suddenly flushed. Shit. I upset her.

  “You okay?” Archer asks.

  “I don’t feel well.” She puts her hand over her stomach. “I think I had too much coffee this morning.” Quinn makes it two feet away before both girls need to use the bathroom too. Violet suddenly has to go too, and Scarlet gets up to take her and help Quinn with the other girls.

  Aiden starts to cry the second his mother and sisters leave, and we spend the next five minutes trying to get him to calm down.

  “Doesn’t this make you want another?” Archer asks over Aiden’s cries.

  “Nope,” Weston shoots right back. “We’re very happy with two. Though Scarlet was hot as fuck when she was pregnant. She disagreed.” He shrugs. “Jackson’s years older than his sister. Having two close together…I don’t know how you do it with three.”

  Archer laughs. “I couldn’t without Quinn.”

  That ache in my heart is back. It’s dulled over the last year, but it’s a missing part of me, sending waves of phantom pain through me when I least expect it.

  The want to have my own family. To be wrestling with my own toddler, annoyed and irritated as all hell but going to bed thankful every night because we have each other.

  “So about Rory,” Archer says, words cutting through my thoughts. Dammit. I should have known this was coming as soon as my sisters left the table. “You liked her enough to take her to breakfast.”

  I look at him, trying to ignore the question in his statement. “Yeah. She was fun.”

  “In your last year of newfound bachelorhood,” Weston starts, “when has fun turned into breakfast?”

  I ignore his gaze on me as well.

  “She’s been great to work with.” Giving up, Archer gives Aiden his phone, and the kid finally settles down. “Nice. Personable. She fit right in with my surgical team, and I’m doing just as bad of a job trying to convince you to date her as Quinn.”

  I let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not dating anyone.”

  “What would going out with her one more time hurt?” Weston asks, looking me dead in the eye.

  A million reasons rush through my mind, with the biggest being what if I fall for her?

  Before I’m forced to give an answer, the girls come running back.

  “Daddy!” Arya yells from across the diner, holding Violet’s hand as they hurry over, followed by Scarlet. Quinn and Emma rejoin us a minute later. Aiden goes right to Quinn, snuggling up in her lap. The tension has left our little group, and I intend to keep it that way…and not talk about Rory again. Thinking about her makes a knot form in the pit of my stomach, giving me a feeling I can’t quite place. It’s like knowing you forgot something but you’re unable to remember what it is you forgot. It’s just that feeling of unknown dread.

  “Are you ready to be a single mom in a few weeks?” I ask Quinn.

  “Yes,” she glares at Archer. “It’s not fair you get to go spend a week in Miami and leave us all here in the cold.”

  “I’m going to a medical conference, not a party.” He puts his arm around her. “I’d say I won’t enjoy it just to make you feel better, but I love biology as much as you love software.”

  “I know,” Quinn grumbles, then she wrinkles her nose and leans down, smelling Aiden. “Your son pooped, and I just took the girls to the bathroom.”

  “You want to change a diaper?” Archer asks. “It’s been a while.”

  “And I intend to keep it that way.” I look down at my watch. “I need to get going. I have a client meeting.”

  “I’m glad we ran into you,” Quinn says, standing and giving me a hug. “See you Sunday?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be at Mom and Dad’s.”

  “Great. See ya then.”

  I say bye to my nieces and nephew, leave money to cover my food at the table, and hurry out the door. I have a few hours before the client meeting, and if Quinn and Archer hadn’t busted Rory’s cover, I wonder what we’d be doing right now.

  Fucking back at her place? Maybe she’d make us lunch and we’d sit on the couch together, watching TV and talking about random things again. Whatever it would have been, it doesn’t matter. Because it’s not going to happen.

  Even though I know I want it to.

  Chapter 16

  Rory

  “You didn’t answer.” Mason’s voice comes through the speaker of my Jeep. I just left the bar and should have let the engine heat up longer before taking off. I’m shivering, gripping my heated steering wheel tight to warm up my frozen hands.

  “Arrest me.”

  “I could arrange that, you know.”

  “I do,” I sigh. “And sorry if I made you worry. I’m heading home now and am fine.”

  “Good. Everything work out?” he asks.

  “Well, not exactly.” I slow to a stop at a red light and let my head flop back against the headrest. “I’m never lying about who I am ever again, though. Rest assured.”

  “I don’t know if asking for details is a good idea, but I’m too damn curious.”

  “Let me start from the beginning,” I grumble. “Hilary, a nurse I work with, was set up on a blind date by our boss, Dr. Jones. The guy was Dr. Jones’s friend. Long story short, Hilary got back together with her ex and convinced me to go out on said date instead. She made the guy sound like a total loser, so I canceled at the last minute and then went out.”

  “That’s going to be relevant later, isn’t
it?”

  “Unfortunately.” I feel the heat of my embarrassment burn on my cheeks all over again. “Well, the guy I went home with last night was the guy I was supposed to go on a date with.”

  “No fucking way,” Mason laughs, and I can imagine the smug smile on his face.

  “Way,” I say through gritted teeth. “And I found that out when Dr. Jones and his wife ran into us at breakfast. Like I said, I’m never pretending to be someone else again unless I’m on vacation, far, far away.”

  “Sorry, sis, but that’s fucking hilarious.”

  “To you. It’s not to me.”

  Though, if it were anyone else, I’d be laughing too. It’s not funny because of the regret I’m feeling for fucking this up.

  Because I really liked Dean.

  “Give it time and you’ll be laughing.”

  “Yeah,” I agree, though I don’t believe it. “I’m sure I will. Thanks for checking on me.”

  “Take care.”

  “I always do. Love you, Mason!”

  “You too.”

  I end the call and turn on my music, singing along to the Frozen 2 soundtrack until I get to my apartment. Figaro is sitting in the small entryway, swishing his tail back and forth.

  “We’ve talked about this,” I say, leaning against the door as I take my shoes off. “No judging.” Leaving my heels in the middle of the floor, I cross through the little living room into the kitchen, getting out a can of food for Figaro. “You didn’t even touch your kibble.” I motion to the full bowl. “So don’t act like you’re starving. We both know you’d eat that if you were hungry enough.”

  I give him his food and then go to shower. I turn on the water and pull Dean’s sweatshirt over my head, trying to push the sour feeling in the bottom of my stomach away.

  Did I ruin things forever with Dean? Does it even matter if I did? I’m fairly certain I need to take Mason’s advice for once and let this one go. Last night was a hookup, and someone with an out with the old and in with the new mentality about love isn’t someone I want to get involved with.