No Strings Attached

by Jiffy Kate

  “Why? Are you busy?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got this… thing.”

  “With Lexie?”

  “No, just a thing.”

  “Sundays used to be our thing,” I say, like a bitter ex-girlfriend.

  He gives me a look over his computer screen and I continue, “Sorry, it’s just, I already paid for the jumps. I really need a good rush. Any chance you can reschedule your… thing?”

  Sebastian finally pushes away from his computer and roughly scrubs at his face with his hands. “Fuck.”

  “What?”

  He looks away, out the large window by his desk. “I can’t go, because I promised Lex no more extreme sports that involve harnesses.”

  “What?” I ask like he just told me he has three heads or descended from aliens.

  “Yeah, after the bungee jumping incident last week, she freaked out and was crying and shit, making me promise I won’t do anything that requires a harness.”

  “What about rock climbing?” I ask, unable to wrap my brain around what he’s telling me. This is not the Sebastian I know. The Sebastian I know would tell a chick to go to hell if she even tried to tell him what to order on his pizza. What the fuck is going on around here?

  “She said rock climbing was okay, as long as it’s indoors.”

  I plop down in the chair across from him and rake my hand through my hair.

  “And before you start harping on me about being pussy-whipped, just don’t, okay?”

  The sharp edge to his voice tells me I shouldn’t fuck with him. He’s obviously just as distraught by this information as I am.

  “Dude,” I say, because nothing else good is coming to mind right now.

  “I know.”

  We both sit there, staring out the window.

  “You loved Quinn, right?” he asks after we’ve been quiet for a few minutes.

  “Yeah,” I answer, feeling the pinch in my chest when he refers to my feelings for Quinn in the past tense.

  “You probably would’ve done anything for her, right?”

  “Yeah.” I would’ve. I did. I still would. But I don’t admit to that, because it’d probably make me sound pathetic. Which I am. Which is also why I need to go skydiving. I need a distraction, anything to take my mind off of how pathetic I am. I also need it to remind me I’m alive and still have a beating heart in my chest.

  “Well, I’ll do anything for Lexie, even holding up my end of the deal to not do any extreme sports with a harness… as fucking stupid as that sounds and as much as it goes against how I normally am,” he admits, exhaling.

  “Even though it’s a stupid fucking deal?”

  “Yeah.” He nods. “Even though it’s a stupid fucking deal,” he admits. “Lexie is it for me.”

  I look over at Sebastian and simultaneously want to punch him in his fucking nose and slap him on his back in congratulations. The emotions running through me are all over the board. I hate him. I’m happy for him. I wish I had what he has. I hate that I wish that. I hate that Quinn and I are over. I hate that I’m slowly forgetting how she smelled and the exact shade of brown in her eyes. I hate that it’s been seventy-four days since we last talked. And I hate that I know that.

  “I get it,” I finally say, standing from the chair. “I guess I’ll just do two jumps. More for me.” I try to force a smile and act like I’m not upset. I know it doesn’t work. Sebastian always sees right through my bullshit.

  “Let’s go mountain biking,” he suggests. “Or fuck, just hang out at the bar or something.”

  Slapping the door frame, I try to think if that would do it for me, but I know it won’t. I need a fucking rush, one I can only get from jumping out of a perfectly good airplane. “Nah. I need this.”

  “Alright.” He sits back in his chair and eyes me closely. “Don’t do anything crazy, okay?”

  “Who me?” I ask, smiling, and this time it’s real, because he knows me better than to put that kind of stipulation on me.

  “Whatever,” he says, laughing. “Have fun. Don’t die.”

  I laugh again, knowing deep down, he wishes he was going with me.

  “I’ll tell you how great it was when I get back.”

  “Next thing you know you’ll be the one telling me about all the different pussy you’re having. What the fuck is happening to us?”

  I stop and turn around, staring at him.

  Maybe I need to get laid.

  Maybe it’s time.

  That’s the natural progression, right?

  “I don’t know, dude.” I shake my head and leave before he has a chance to ask me about my sex life. I’m sure he will at some point, but not today. I can’t think about that today.

  “Thanks, Frank,” I say, shaking the old man’s hand. “It was fun.” I finish taking the harness off and hang it on the hooks inside the hanger. Today was a great day for jumping. The lingering adrenaline still has me flying high.

  “Don’t be a stranger, Jude. Bring that big oaf with you next time.”

  I laugh, scratching my jaw that has a week’s worth of stubble. “Afraid I’ll be flying solo from here on out,” I say, a familiar pinch in my chest, but this time, it’s due to the loss of something besides Quinn. Everything and everyone seemed to be changing.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, seems as though the big oaf has gone and fell in love and the little miss isn’t so keen on him jumping out of airplanes.” I smile to myself, knowing Lexie would kick my ass for the little miss comment, but that’s okay.

  She’s on my shit list.

  “Well, well, well. You don’t say?” The old man shakes his head. “I was for sure that one would be a bachelor for life. He reminded me a lot of myself in my younger years.”

  “I kinda thought that myself, Frank,” I admit, but happy that Sebastian found somebody all the same.

  “What about you?” Frank asks, giving me a sideways glance.

  Shaking my head, I work up a smile for the old man. “Nah, I’ll probably be the one who’s a perpetual bachelor.”

  Frank gives me another sideways glance. “Some pretty girl will come along one of these days…”

  I just smile.

  She came along, alright.

  And then she left.

  Chapter 22

  Jimmy sits another shot glass filled with tequila down in front of me. No lime. I don’t need no fucking lime. Or chasers. Real men just need tequila.

  And it’d be nice if the fucking Mavs could win a fucking game.

  “Might wanna slow your roll,” Sebastian says, leaning back against the bar beside me.

  “Why?” I ask, taking the shot glass and tipping it up, appreciating the slight burn it still has as it goes down, even after six shots… or was that seven?

  Sebastian shakes his head and focuses on the large television across from us.

  “Fucking ref! That was obviously walking. Can we not get one damned thing to go our way?” Sebastian slams his beer down on the bar and crosses his arms over his chest. “Fucking Lakers.”

  “We need to switch teams.”

  Sebastian laughs. “You’d only say that when you’re drunk.”

  “I’m not drunk.”

  “Okay, tell me that again tomorrow morning when we meet with Mr. Jones.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Hey, Jimmy,” a tall brunette says as she walks up to the bar. “How about three martinis for me and my friends?” She points over at a table where two women are sitting, waving. At me. Or maybe at Jimmy. Fuck if I know.

  “How are you, handsome?” she asks, leaning against the bar on the other side of me.

  I look at Sebastian and then back at her. “Who me?”

  She smiles, like I’m joking. “Yes, you.” Her hand touches my chest and smooths down the front of my shirt. The tie I was wearing today is hanging loose and the top few buttons are undone. Normally, I go home and change before coming to the bar, but I didn’t feel like it tonight. I needed a drink more than I neede
d to change clothes.

  “My friends and I have been watching you,” she admits. “Seems as though you might need a distraction, what with all those shots you’ve been taking. Need to relieve some… tension?”

  I look down as her long red fingernails trace a pattern on my shirt.

  Why the fuck is she doing that?

  “Long day,” I tell her, looking up to meet her blue eyes, but they’re not real. No one has eyes the color of my computer screen. They look just like that. Microsoft blue, I decide.

  “Care to join us?” she asks, leaning in further until her mouth is only a few inches from mine.

  A three-point shot by the Mavs makes the entire bar erupt and draws my focus to the television. As I’m turning my head to look at the woman who is now halfway sitting on my lap, I see her.

  Not her. The brunette.

  Well, this one is also a brunette, but that one is my brunette.

  Or was mine.

  Not mine.

  But I wanted her to be.

  “Quinn,” I say before she’s close enough to hear me.

  When she notices the woman at my right, she starts to turn around, but I push her off me. “Quinn,” I say louder, making her turn back around.

  Her eyes meet mine and then go to the woman and then back to me. “I shouldn’t have come here,” she says, fidgeting with the cuff of her jacket.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, unable to filter my words or put much thought into what comes out before it does.

  “I just…” She pauses and looks over her shoulder at the television and the loud fuckers yelling at it. “I knew you’d be here,” she says, stepping closer so I can hear her over the noise. “Can we talk?”

  I nod, but I don’t know if that’s my mind or my heart talking. Part of me says “fuck yes, we can talk” and the other part is saying “fuck no, go away”. I don’t know what part is what or what part I want to listen to, but I follow her to the door. When I’m halfway out the bar, I look back to see Sebastian watching me with a smirk on his face.

  What the fuck is that for?

  Fucking Sebastian, always such a cocky bastard.

  I’m still cussing Sebastian in my mind when the cold air hits me and I realize it’s just me and Quinn on the sidewalk outside of the bar.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask again, because I can’t remember if I already asked her that.

  She lets out a loud sigh. “Fuck,” she groans. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

  I run a hand through my hair, trying to think clearly, but it’s hard. I’ve wanted to talk to her ever since the last time we spoke and now, here she is and I can’t seem to force myself to say the words.

  What did I want to say?

  What should I say?

  Is she in love with Daniel? Are they happy? Did she get what she wanted? How’s Henry?

  But instead, I say, “I don’t know why you’re here either.”

  Why? Why did I say that?

  Her big brown eyes come up to meet mine and I see it—hurt, sadness, regret. It’s like I’m looking at myself in the mirror and for some reason, it pisses me off.

  “I just wanted to see you… to see how you’re doing.”

  “Well,” I laugh hoarsely, spreading my arms wide. “Here I am.” I feel the sarcasm and anger building up and I don’t know where it’s coming from, but I can’t stop it.

  She smiles, but it doesn’t meet her eyes. It’s tight and forced. We stand there for a few moments, the cold air doing wonders on my alcohol-ridden brain, sobering me up a bit.

  “I know I hurt you,” she finally says, wrapping her arms around herself. “And I just wanted to say I’m sorry… for all of it.”

  She apologizes and it’s sincere. I can tell by the way she looks directly in my eyes and her jaw is set tight like she’s on a mission and determined to say whatever she came here to say.

  “I also want you to know that I thought I was doing the right thing and I’m sorry you got hurt in the process. I never meant for that to happen. I never meant for any of it to happen.”

  The familiar pinch in my chest is back and I rub it, trying to get the ache to go away. “What you mean to say is that you never meant for me to happen.”

  “You’re right,” she admits, letting her shoulders fall a little. “I didn’t, but sometimes life is unexpected and it throws things at us we never saw coming.”

  “You don’t have anything to apologize for. You told me not to get attached… that’s all on me. I’m the one who let my heart get involved, but don’t worry,” I tell her. “It’s uninvolved now.” In my semi-drunken state, that’s the best I can do. And it’s a lie, but she doesn’t have to know that.

  Her eyes fall and so does her smile. She kicks her shoe on the concrete as we stand there in silence.

  Why couldn’t you have come here when I was sober?

  “I’m sorry. I should’ve realized you’d be hanging out with Sebastian. This was just the only place I knew I could find you.”

  “What?”

  “It’s not like I came here expecting you to be… not sober,” she says, somewhat defensively.

  “Did I say that out loud?”

  Quinn groans and rubs at her forehead. “This was a mistake.”

  “I fell in love with you, you know?” It’s rhetorical. I don’t expect her to answer, but I need her to hear it. While I have her undivided attention, I might as well tell her everything. A bitter laugh escapes as I lean over and brace my hands on my knees, trying to clear my head as much as possible. When I stand back up, I look directly into her eyes. “I loved you… even though you tried to keep me from it. I loved you anyway. And Henry,” I shake my head. “I didn’t even think I wanted kids before I met him.”

  I swallow hard to keep my emotions in check but force myself to continue. “The shitty thing is, I love that kid so much, I want what’s best for him and, unfortunately, that’s not me. As much as I’d love to be what’s best, I know he needs his father. I can’t even be mad at you, Quinn, because you’re being a great mom. It just fucking sucks that I can’t be what you need.”

  When I look back at her, there are tears streaming down her face and for some sadistic reason, it makes me happy… happy because maybe I want her to hurt as badly as she hurt me.

  And sad, so fucking sad.

  I’d gladly take a bullet for her.

  So, the last thing I want is for her to cry.

  The mixed emotions are tearing at my insides and making me want to scream.

  “Daniel and I—” she starts, but I quickly shut her down. I don’t think I can stomach hearing about her and Daniel and their happy family.

  “Don’t, Quinn… just fucking don’t. I can’t stand here and listen to you talk about you and Daniel, okay?” My blood starts pumping at the thought. Did she come here to rub it in my face?

  I’m pissed she came here tonight. I was starting to forget, not everything, but some things. And now she shows up and her sweet and spicy scent is all I can smell, and I’m reminded that her eyes are this weird combination of gold and amber and brown and that they kind of glisten under the streetlights, especially with freshly shed tears still lingering in them.

  Unable to stand another goodbye, I turn and walk back into the bar, hoping like hell she doesn’t follow me.

  And hoping like hell that she does.

  But she doesn’t.

  Later, as Sebastian drives me to my apartment, I lean back against the seat and watch the buildings as we pass by. He hasn’t said much since I walked back into the bar, probably assuming if I wanted to talk, I would.

  His loud exhale clues me into his struggle with keeping his big trap shut.

  “I know it’s just killing you not to ask,” I tell him, rolling my head to the other side to look at him. “So, go ahead. Let’s get this over with.”

  “If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine.”

  “Bullshit. It’s never fine.” I sink further down in
my seat, wishing I hadn’t had those last two shots, but fuck me if tonight didn’t turn into a shit show. “It’s not fine,” I murmur, meaning it in more ways than one.

  It’s not fine.

  I’m not fine.

  Quinn’s not fine.

  Nothing is fucking fine.

  Unless we’re living in some alternate universe where fine now means fucked up, then yeah, everything is fucking fine.

  “What’d she say?” he finally asks.

  “I guess she came to apologize.”

  “Did you at least get to tell her how you feel?”

  I snort and roll my eyes, causing my head to hurt. Fucking tequila. “Yeah, I told her.”

  “And.”

  “She mentioned Daniel and I lost it. I just couldn’t stand there while she talked about the two of them together. It felt like someone was twisting a knife in my chest.”

  After a few minutes of driving in silence, Sebastian sighs. “Well, at least you told her.”

  “Yeah.”

  I lean my head against the cool glass and close my eyes, but all I see is Quinn’s tear-streaked face.

  “Look at you, leaving at normal people time,” Sebastian chides as we walk toward the elevator.

  After my confrontation with Quinn last week, I felt like he and Lexie had me on some kind of suicide watch or something. But the truth is I’ve felt better this week. My chest still hurts when I think about her. I still wish things were different. But I don’t feel like sleeping at the office or eating week-old food out of the break room refrigerator.

  I also refuse to go on any more blind dates. I didn’t have trouble finding myself dates before Quinn and when I’m ready, whenever that time comes, I’ll find my own fucking dates again.

  “Wanna get a beer later?” Sebastian asks, pushing “B” for the basement parking garage.

  “Lexie lets you do that sort of thing?” I tease, knowing it’ll get a rise out of him.

  “I do what I fucking want.” He adjusts his tie and stands up straighter.

  I try to hold back the laugh, but I can’t.

  When his phone buzzes in his pocket, he can’t pull it out fast enough. I watch as he reads a text message and then sits his briefcase on the floor of the elevator so he can reply quickly.