by Tara Sivec
I don’t just go around yelling at people who piss me off. I will stand up for what I believe in, and if you hurt one of my friends, there’s nowhere you can hide from me. But I have officially reached my breaking point and losing my shit on a bunch of grown men who can handle it, sounds pretty good right about now.
“This is all your fault, you dipshits! I am going to rain hellfire down upon all of you!” I shout, not really feeling better but on a roll at this point. “You’re doing my laundry, and the laundry for all the cottages for the next two weeks to make it up to me! I am going to be a stage-five clinger on your asses the likes of which you have never seen before! Buckle up, fuckers!”
“So this is where the hotheaded, banshee-like, demanding woman with no respect for authority has been hiding all this time.”
The wide-eyed, oh shit looks on every person’s face in front of me right now tells me the velvety, deep, familiar voice coming from behind me that has haunted my dreams and my fantasies for the last five months is not a figment of my depraved imagination.
And he definitely doesn’t sound very happy to finally be in the presence of his secret girlfriend again, or our love child that I have yet to locate….
I take back what I thought earlier. It turns out my life actually can get worse.
CHAPTER 5
Emily
“Awesome… just an awesome turn of events.”
“Does my hair look okay?”
“Why did you make me wear this shirt? It’s a stupid, ugly shirt, and I look hideous.”
“How’s my breath on a scale of one to ten? Whose got gum?”
Ignoring the whispering panic between the fangirls, I let Birdie and Wren try to shush their two ridiculous men while the freakiest sense of déjà vu washes over me. Slowly turning around and then looking several inches up, I see the same annoyed, breathtakingly handsome face with no hint of any dimples hidden under his five o’clock shadow, just like I did five months ago. Except this time, I don’t have the warm comfort of a gallon of tequila to help get me through it.
“Yay, it’s QB!” I shout, throwing my arms up in a high V.
Although it looks like I’m going to act like it…
I’m so thrown off by the fact that Quinn Bagley is standing right here, on my island, in my place of work, that I don’t know how to act. He’s dressed casually in a pair of black joggers, a long-sleeved Under Armour shirt that clings to his muscles in all the right places, with a Nike baseball cap on his head, looking better than he has any right to. And I’ve seen him dressed in a tailored suit, which should be damn near illegal.
Quinn is clearly not amused by me and crosses his arms in front of him. When all I can think about is how it felt to have those strong arms wrapped around me when he teased me about throwing me in the pool, I quickly drop my own arms down to my sides and get my shit together.
“I can’t believe you’re here. I’m so—”
“Who the hell even are you?”
Those words and the pissed-off tone of his voice get my hackles up, and the apology and concern over his wellbeing dies on my tongue and in my heart. I know exactly who I am, so I put my hands on my hips and return his glare, pretending like seeing him standing in front of me doesn’t make me feel like I’m alive again after five long months.
“Clearly, you think I’m exactly who the media says I am, so why are you even here?”
God, that hurts like a bitch to say out loud, when just the sight of him makes me want to tell him everything that’s wrong and let him make it all better with his full belly laugh and teasing smile.
I can’t believe I actually thought that, after a handful of hours, this man would know me better than this and not think the worst of me. I am such an idiot.
“I just wanted to see if it was all an act,” he mutters—like a knife to the heart as he looks me up and down.
Well, now he really is going to think that night was all an act. Of course I couldn’t be wearing something sexy and badass like the night we met. Oh no. I’m like a sad, rejected Stevie from Schitt’s Creek, in ratty skinny jeans, a T-shirt with a flannel thrown over it, a pair of Converse that used to be white at some point, my hair thrown up on top of my head in one of Wren’s signature messy buns, and nary a smoky eye in sight. I look as hideous as Shepherd does in that Dip and Twist shirt.
Oh, who gives a shit what you look like? You’re better than this! Get it together!
“Hi! Palmer Campbell. You’ve probably heard of me. I—”
“Dude, that was so douchey. Don’t say that.”
“I can’t explain what happened without a proper introduction.”
“You guys are so embarrassing. Now he’ll never want to play with us. Just apolo—”
I cut off the men who won’t shut up behind me with another ear-piercing finger whistle, not even giving two shits if Quinn’s open-mouthed stare means he’s impressed or that his poor opinion of me was just confirmed.
“What they’re trying to say is that it’s all their fault that—”
“Doesn’t matter,” Quinn cuts me off, taking a step closer to me until we’re toe-to-toe, I can smell that damn delicious body spray he wears that makes me want to climb him like a tree, and he lowers his voice so only I can hear him. “You promised not to say anything, and you lied. I just came here to hear you admit it.”
“Oh my God,” I whisper with a shake of my head as he pulls back, the hurt and disappointment stabbing into me again. “You actually think I did this on purpose.”
The realization hurts like hell, but I do what I do best—I push my shoulders back and lift my head up high, pretending like everything around me isn’t a dumpster fire, when he continues.
“I can only be thankful none of that shit got out about me questioning whether or not I even wanted to play the game anymore.” Quinn scoffs, making me wince and close my eyes.
“Yeah, that’s brand-new information!” Shepherd pipes up from behind me.
“Take it back, man. That’s not funny. The Sharks need you,” Palmer whines.
I open my eyes back up to see Quinn staring down at me with a shocked look on his face, but I refuse to feel bad for him for even one second.
“You didn’t say anything about that.”
It’s a statement, not a question, coming from Quinn, now that understanding has hit him.
Too little, too late, and I don’t care.
“I’m sorry I told my absolute best friends in the world about one of the best nights of my life.” I clamp my mouth shut and internally cringe, wishing immediately I could take back that little tidbit of honesty, before quickly continuing so he’ll forget all about it. “Contrary to what you think, I’m not an asshole human being. I never shared anything personal that we talked about. Nice of you to notice how everything that wound up in the press was only about the stupid shit I said and did and the fun stuff that happened between us. Followed up by people shitting all over me and my character, while praising the ground you walk on. Things haven’t exactly been a piece of cake for me either.”
A flash of guilt washes over Quinn’s face, but I still don’t care.
“Oh, hey, everyone’s here!”
Like the horror movie my life has suddenly turned into, the sound of Ryan’s voice makes me jump like a serial killer just came charging out of the closet with a machete. While my friends all greet him like he’s Norm on that old television show Cheers as he walks in through the back entrance of the office, and not like this isn’t a complete nightmare.
This is not happening. This is seriously not happening.
And yet, it’s happening, live and in HD, two worlds getting ready to collide and blow up in my face worse than anything that’s happened over the last week.
“Ryan, I am so sorry,” I apologize, quickly turning my back on Quinn, since I can only deal with one major life crisis at a time. And since Quinn has suddenly gone mute now that he realized I didn’t spill his damn secrets and I might not be the awful person he
assumed I was.
“Emily, why are you apologizing? This is awesome!” Ryan announces, stopping a few feet away from me while my friends all stand around with their heads ping-ponging back and forth like they’re at a goddamn sporting event and not at my execution.
With his short, shaggy, dirty-blonde hair, dark-blue Summersweet Wildcats bowling team polo shirt, and adorable boy-next-door good looks, Ryan has always reminded me of a loveable, loyal golden retriever filled with the same exuberant energy.
I hate myself so much for hurting him, no matter how hard he’s trying to hide it.
“I mean, some of the stuff they’ve said in the press sucks, but everyone has been so nice about it!” Ryan continues with that sweet smile of his. “People dropped off so much food I’ll never be able to eat it all. And I heard someone knitted you some sweaters, and you got your own seat at the high school football stadium with your name on it for life, and Heather Compton told me to tell you she baked you a cake, and she’ll leave it on your porch.”
“Sounds like things have literally been a piece of cake for you,” Quinn leans forward from behind me to whisper in my ear.
I clench every muscle in my body so I don’t shiver when I feel his warm breath against my ear. And because his voice is suddenly filled with a teasing humor instead of anger, and that’s some serious kryptonite for me.
“Shut up,” I whisper back to him out the corner of my mouth, still staring at my childhood sweetheart, who is looking at me with that same caring nature of his, one of the main reasons I always found myself coming back to him over the years.
I am a horrible person.
“Anyway, I just wanted to stop by and talk to make sure you’re okay, but now I see you’re more than okay. Everything is going to be great, and I don’t have to worry about you anymore!” Ryan continues with that exuberant smile on his face, making me realize the last week has officially broken him.
“Why would you worry about me after everything that’s happened?”
Ryan laughs and blows out a huge breath of air. I suddenly realize he was nervous as hell when he walked in here, and I really have no idea why, since I ruined his life.
“We should probably be having this discussion in private, but you’ll just tell everyone in here as soon as I walk out the door anyway.” He smiles at me.
“That’s valid.” I shrug, making me wish for the thousandth time that things could be easier and I could just love this man the way he deserves.
“But I’m glad everyone is here. I honestly couldn’t have timed this any better. You have no idea how big of an asshole I’ve felt for thinking I was leading you on all this time and for those stupid, awkward dinners. Ryan Hutton, big fan by the way.” Ryan pauses as he leans to the side to give a smile and a chin nod to the man behind me, making me wonder if now is when I’m officially in the Twilight Zone.
“Thanks?” Quinn sounds just as utterly confused as to what the fuck is going on as I am, as Ryan continues.
“What I’m trying to say is, I met someone.”
Just like in the movies, there’s a gasp amongst the crowd. Wren then takes over my cheerleading duties and starts chanting, “Go Ryan!” and I’m pretty sure my soul leaves my body when he resumes.
“It’s still kind of new, and I don’t want to jinx anything, but I just felt so bad for you when you came home from California. You were so sad and all alone, so I didn’t want to say anything when I was so happy and make you sadder. You know, about you being alone and—”
“Yep! Got it!” I stop him before he says the fucking word alone one more time.
Quinn lets out a little snort from behind me, reminding me that I should never, ever think my life can’t get any worse, because it sure as shit can.
Well, don’t I feel stupid. Here I thought this man had been pining for me all this time and that I was going to crush him. When the man I’ve actually been pining for is standing right behind me, and I want to punch him in the face for thinking I was some psycho bitch.
Awesome… just an awesome turn of events.
“Anyway, I think it’s safe to say we were both fools who should have been honest with each other a long time ago. But now that you’re not alone, I can stop feeling like an asshole. You were just so sad because you were missing him. It’s just great! I really am happy that you guys are together and you’re not alone anymore!” Ryan gushes, making me wish a hole would open up in the floor and swallow me down into the pits of hell.
“I’m still alone,” I tell Ryan with a sigh.
“No, you’re not.” He chuckles, shaking his head at me like I’m so adorable.
“Yes, I am. I’m not dating Quinn Bagley.”
“But… he’s standing right behind you.”
“No, he’s not,” I reply dumbly, crossing my arms in front of me like a petulant child.
“Yes, I am,” Quinn pipes up, the smile in his voice obvious even though I can’t see him, the jerk. He’s definitely having entirely too much fun at my expense.
“We aren’t dating,” I try again.
“Ohhh, I get it. Is this like a secret thing, where we have to pretend like it’s a bunch of rumors until you guys are officially ready to announce it?” Ryan asks.
“It’s not pretend. It is a bunch of rumors.”
“Got it.” Ryan winks dramatically. “Don’t worry; I won’t say anything.”
“Well, this just got interesting,” Quinn says, a damn smirk on his face when he steps up next to me and holds his hand out to Ryan. “Quinn Bagley, nice to formally meet you, man. I’m sorry about all the stuff they’ve been saying about you in the media. I’m just happy to know I’m not really a homewrecker who stole someone’s woman.”
The two men share a laugh, and I just look back and forth between them with my mouth dropped open so wide it might actually fall off and clatter to the floor. I finally throw my hands up in the air, realizing I have completely lost control of this insane situation.
“What in the actual shit is going on?”
“My thoughts exactly,” I mutter, as Quinn and Ryan drop hands when the revolving door that is the Sandbar Cottages rental office lets yet another person enter my nightmare.
“Tyler, this is… a whole bunch of people. Everyone, this is my agent, Tyler.”
My friends all give the man who looks like he just stepped off the pages of GQ a wave, while he pulls a pocket square out of his suit coat and dabs at his forehead.
“Yeah, hi, lovely to meet you. Again, what in the actual shit is going on?” Tyler asks.
“Oh, Emily and Ryan are breaking up, but not really, because they agreed to date other people ages ago, but this just makes it official, since they’re both seeing other people now,” Wren decides to completely not clear the air for him.
“And I thought actresses were insane,” Tyler mutters, shoving his pocket square back and turning to address Quinn. “This entire shitty island is full of idiots, and they don’t even have a Starbucks.”
“All right, that’s enough,” Quinn orders him in a low voice that sends shivers down my spine. “If you’re going to keep insulting this place, go outside. Otherwise, shut the fuck up.”
Did you hear that? It was the sound of my uterus spontaneously impregnating.
“Well, I’ll just leave you guys to it,” Ryan says, stepping forward to shake Quinn’s hand again. “Seriously, it’s great to have you on the island. But if you hurt her, I will fuck you up.”
Quinn nods seriously, like this is even a serious threat he needs to worry about.
“Anyway, I’m sure I’ll see you guys at the steak fry. Thanks for being the guest speaker, by the way.” Ryan smiles at Quinn before he starts walking toward the front door, promising me we’ll catch up for real very soon.
While Quinn just smiles and nods right back at him, playing along and saving my dignity in front of Ryan, making me feel all warm and fuzzy and really want to know what his lips would feel like on mine.
“Don’t worry. I’
ll deny everything if anyone asks me!” Ryan shouts back to us with a wave as he walks out the door.
“You should deny it, because none of it is true!” Tyler shouts after him, finally deciding he doesn’t want to shut the fuck up anymore. “Is everyone here on drugs?”
“I know I am!” Bodhi announces with a raise of his hand from the couch in the corner.
With a curse under his breath, Tyler reaches into his inside jacket pocket for something, while I chance a look at Quinn to find him staring right at me. My skin instantly heats like he just wrapped his arms around me and yanked me against his body, and I can’t pull my eyes away from him no matter how hard I try.
“You’re slacking, Quinn; I thought you’d have her all ready to sign the NDA. Did you even ask her how much money it will take to shut her up?” Tyler asks, finally giving me the strength to look away from Quinn.
“Excuse me?”
“Tyler—”
“No, really,” I cut Quinn off, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach that for a few seconds while Quinn was playing along with all this insanity that maybe he actually came here for different, better reasons. “Please, let him continue to tell me how you only came here to pay me off.”
Quinn opens and closes his mouth a few times, but obviously there’s nothing he can say to make this any better.
It was bad enough when he thought I was fake and did this just to be a dick. But he actually thought I was an opportunistic gold-digger?
“Your five minutes of fame are over, sweetheart.”
“Jesus Christ, Tyler, stop being an asshole!” Quinn yells at his agent, but it doesn’t even matter.
Snatching the folded-up piece of paper out of Tyler’s hand, along with the pen he holds out to me, I use the top of my thigh to scribble my signature at the bottom of the page.
“Emily, you don’t have to do that,” Quinn says softly while I wish the sound of his pleading voice didn’t make my heart skip a beat.
Standing back up, I walk right up to Quinn, smacking the NDA and pen against his chest.
“Don’t worry. I will never, ever utter your name again. But you can take your money and shove it right up your ass. I didn’t do this to you on purpose, and I definitely didn’t do it for fame. In fact, I didn’t even do this to you at all. They did!” I inform Quinn as I point my thumb over my shoulder.