by Isabel Love
“Anyway, I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you two. I won’t make you keep talking about it. You still planning to come home next weekend?”
“I’ll be there.”
He goes on to tell me the agenda, but I don’t hear much. Max’s words keep echoing in my brain after we hang up.
“It seems to me like she was putting the choice back in your hands by telling you.”
“She gave you the power to hurt her, too.”
I rub my chest again. This time I don’t just feel hollow, I feel sick with regret.
I think I made the wrong choice.
I STARE AT THE blank canvas in front of me, trying to muster up the energy to lift my paintbrush, dunk it in some color, and drag it across the white space.
I stare at it so long, my vision blurs.
I can’t think of anything to paint. The colors look all wrong. My charcoal pencils are not that much more inspiring. After two hours of staring at different canvases around my studio, I give up. I take off my paint clothes and crawl into my bed, hugging the pillow Charlie used to use to my chest and burying my nose into it. His smell is gone, but it doesn’t stop me from hoping I might find a trace of his woodsy, spicy scent lingering somewhere.
It’s been almost two weeks since Charlie moved to New York. For some stupid reason, I still held on to a small kernel of hope that he may have just been mad at me and when he calmed down, he’d call me.
When I drove by his house in a moment of weakness and saw the sold sign in his front yard, I knew he wasn’t planning on coming back.
Monica keeps telling me that I’m strong, that I’ve survived bad shit before and I’ll survive this, but how can a heart survive so much pain? How will I face him at the wedding festivities and not fall apart? I want to tell Monica that I’m not strong enough, that I can’t be her maid of honor, but that would crush my best friend and I can’t do that.
Good thing I have five days to pull myself together before he’s due to be in town. I close my eyes and ask the universe to grant me a good dream this time, one of Charlie looking at me with love and mischief instead of hurt and anger. For once, the universe grants me my wish.
Charlie is kissing me, his tongue sweeping into my mouth to play with mine. I know it’s a dream, but I kiss him back with all I am, touching him everywhere all at once.
The sound of knocking threatens to end my dream, but I cling to him, begging him not to let me go. The knocking turns into pounding and the Charlie of my dreams fades away, slipping right through my fingers.
I wipe my face, blinking at the clock. Who would be here at 11 PM on a Monday night? Worried that it’s Monica, or worse yet, Max because something happened to Monica, I race to my front door, fastening my robe on the way.
When I open the door, I’m sure I’m still dreaming, because Charlie is on my doorstep with a suitcase at his feet. He takes me in, starting at my face then traveling down my body. I’m sure I look like a hot mess, and I tighten my robe self-consciously, trying to remember the last time I brushed my hair or washed my clothes. My eyes dart all over his face, absorbing his beautiful features. Are those circles under his eyes? His expression gives me no clues about why he’s here.
My heart pounds in my chest at his unexpected visit. What is he doing here?
“Hi,” I start tentatively.
“Can I come in?”
I open the door and step aside, trying to calm the stampede of elephants in my stomach.
He parks his suitcase next to my door then turns to face me, pinning me with his gaze. “I moved to New York.”
I nod. “I know.”
“I hate it there,” he spits out, breaths coming quicker with his irritation.
“You do?”
“I wanted to get away from you, give myself a fresh start.”
I close my eyes to shield myself, but the words still land, piercing me with pain.
“It didn’t work.” He rubs the center of his chest. “It feels like there’s something missing, some vital organ. Maybe it’s one of my lungs, because I swear I can’t breathe without you.”
My eyes fly open, not understanding. Is he saying he misses me? Or is he here to torture me?
He walks toward me, big body invading my space. He scans my face as if trying to find something. “Do you still love me?” he whispers.
I meet his gaze, those gorgeous eyes the color of the ocean. “Yes.” The elephants in my stomach are running, knocking into each other.
He closes his eyes in relief and blows out a breath. Eyes back on mine, he says, “But you thought I want to have a family so bad I’d leave you because you can’t have kids?”
“Having a family is a big deal, a deal breaker for most. I didn’t want you to settle for a childless relationship with me when you can easily find someone else.”
His eyes flare. “I don’t want anyone else!”
“You don’t?” Hope starts to burn in the pit of my stomach.
“What do you want, Quinn?”
I thought that was obvious. “I want you.”
He touches my face and I tremble at his proximity. “You hurt me.”
I nod. “I know I did. I’m so sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“You were wrong.”
A tear slips out despite my best efforts. “I know.”
He wipes my tears. “I want you, too.”
My heart stops. “What?”
“I’m in love with you, you silly woman. I want you, too.”
“But what about—”
“Kids?”
I nod. “Don’t you want to have a family?”
“I want you to be my family. The rest we can figure out. I don’t want to have a family if you’re not in it.”
Tears start falling faster now. “You say that now, but you don’t know how you’ll feel in 10 years.”
He pulls me to him, surrounding me with his strong arms. “You don’t know how you’ll feel in 10 years either. Maybe you’ll be sick of me.”
“Not possible.” I wrap my arms around his waist and hold on tight.
“I love you, Quinn Fitzpatrick.”
“I love you, Charlie Nelson.”
He steps back to look at me, his smile so wide his dimples flash at me. I laugh at the sight, touching them with my fingers.
Then he kisses me, slow and sweet at first. We breathe each other in, and I touch him everywhere, reacquainting myself with his body.
Our kisses get deeper, and all the pent-up emotion turns into fireworks. We feast on each other, he sucks my tongue into his mouth, and I bite his lower lip. He tugs my lower back toward his body, bucking his pelvis so his erection rubs my stomach. The feel of his hard dick makes me desperate to have him inside of me. I fumble with his belt buckle, unwilling to break our kiss. He helps me, unbuckling the button, unzipping his fly, and freeing his cock. We move over to the couch where I straddle him.
“Fuck, Red. I need to be inside you,” he mumbles between kisses.
“I need you inside me.”
His hands lift my pelvis just a fraction, pulling up my robe, and he rips my underwear off, the sound of the fabric tearing the hottest thing ever. Then I feel the blunt head of his cock against my pussy and I sigh in relief. He rubs it back and forth over my slit, coating himself in my wetness and arousing me with his piercing in the process.
“Now, Charlie.”
He positions himself and I sink down. The feel of him gliding inside, stretching me so full, makes us both moan. Fuck, he’s so big. I rock my pelvis back and forth, keeping him buried deep, loving the way he fills me.
“God, I missed you.” He licks his way down my neck.
“I missed you, too,” I tell him, sliding up and almost off his cock then sinking back down. Mmmm.
“I missed your pussy.” He meets me halfway, thrusting up into me.
“I missed your cock.”
He opens my robe, baring my nipples, sucking them into his mouth, pinching and pulling and biti
ng. The sensation zings from my nipples to my clit and I angle my body toward him, giving him easier access to my tits and making my clit slide along his shaft with every thrust.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he demands.
“I’m yours.”
He clamps his mouth on the part of my neck that meets my shoulder and sucks hard. I know he’s replacing the hickey that faded away and I love it.
I feel him grow impossibly harder and he bucks into me, hands on my hips to help me ride him.
“I want to come inside of you.”
God, I want that, too. The tingling starts and I know I’m close. “I want to come on your cock.”
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he chants, chasing his pleasure.
I shatter first, limbs trembling, vision blurring.
He wraps his arms around my waist, thrusts into me once more, and stills, groaning in pleasure as his cock pulses inside me.
Paralyzed and sated, I melt in a heap on top of him, and we catch our breath together. When I regain control of my limbs, I attempt to get off of him, but he just wraps his arms around me, keeping me where I am. He adjusts his position on the couch while I’m still straddling him, his cock still inside of me.
When I feel him start to soften I try to lift up again, but he just buries himself in deeper. I chuckle at this.
“Sorry, Red, but I’m not leaving your pussy for a while.”
“Fine with me.”
He smooths my hair away from my face and I lay my head in the crook of his neck.
“I love you,” he whispers.
“I love you too.”
“I have to tell you something.”
I look up, wary, but nod for him to continue.
“I quit my job and moved out of my apartment.”
I don’t know why this makes me smile, but it does. “Really?”
He smiles back at me, showing me those dimples that I love so much. “You’re smiling at the fact that I’m currently jobless and homeless?”
“Is there anything I could do to make you move back here?”
“You wouldn’t know of a place I could stay, would you?” I feel his cock harden again and he pushes his pelvis into mine.
I groan and nod, my recently sated body perking back up. “I think I know a place.”
One year later
IF SOMEONE HAD TOLD me a couple years ago that I would end up with a beautiful, smart, talented woman, I’d have scoffed and said I wasn’t looking for a relationship. If someone had told me I’d have my own photography business, I’d have laughed, thinking it was way over my head and out of my reach, but as Logan said so long ago, sometimes the best things happen when you aren’t looking for them.
My love for Quinn burns brighter every day. She believes in me, and that makes me believe in myself. She’s my best friend, my partner in crime, and my biggest fantasy, all rolled into one.
I moved in with Quinn the night we got back together; my house had already sold and we wanted to be together anyway. Quinn encouraged me to collaborate more with Art Redefined, and I still do, but I needed more than that. My brother Dom helped me with the legal side of things and together we formed Nelson Designs. A lot of my clients from Picture This followed me, and my customer base has only grown since then.
A wet, sticky hand slaps my face, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Gaaaah!” Oliver complains.
“Sorry little man,” I coo at the six-month-old. “I didn’t mean to ignore you.”
He smiles up at me with a toothless grin and a big glob of drool splats onto my wrist.
“Dude, that is so gross. I can’t wait until you learn how to control the drool.”
He just laughs and yanks my nose, and I’m impressed with his strength. I think his little nails just drew blood.
“Ouch!” I tell him. “Easy there, Oli, I need my nose.” I blow a raspberry into his hand to distract him and bounce him on my knees the way he likes. He squeals and yells as if to say, This is so much fun, Uncle Charlie, do it again!
Sure enough, once I stop bouncing, his smile disappears, quickly replaced by a frown as he pats my legs, urging me to do it again.
Max plops down in the chair next to mine, smiling down at his son. “You need me to take him?”
“Heck no, Oli and I are hanging out. I’m teaching him about the birds and the bees.”
Max laughs. “I think he’s a bit young for that talk.”
“Look over there, Oli!” I point to a blue jay as it streaks through the sky and lands on the peak of the house. “That bird is called a blue jay.”
He turns his head, chubby cheeks and all, and his bright blue eyes actually follow my finger and find the bird I’m pointing at. He squeals in delight as it flies away.
Max laughs again. “The birds and the bees, huh?”
“Hey, every little boy needs to know the basics of nature. It’s never too early to start with these talks, didn’t you know that?”
Soon Oliver fixates on his dad and whines, reaching his chubby little arms out, telling his dad he wants him to pick him up.
I hand him over, watching my best friend hold his son. Oliver is Max’s spitting image with his dark hair and blue eyes. Max stands Oliver up on his lap, holding his waist to steady him.
“Hey buddy, did you have fun with Uncle Charlie?”
Oli touches Max’s nose and yells some indeterminate sound.
We both laugh at the cuteness of his little baby boy.
If you had told me a year ago that I could hold a baby and feel nothing but happiness, I wouldn’t have believed it, but I can. I still have the occasional dream about my baby, but I’ve made peace with my past, and I’m looking forward to the future.
“WOULD YOU LOOK AT that?” I nod my head toward the back yard.
Monica walks over and looks out the window where Charlie and Max are shirtless, wearing only their swim trunks, playing with Oliver.
“I think my ovaries just exploded,” Monica says.
“Fuck, mine, too.”
Monica shoots me a sideways glance.
“What, Dr. Spencer? I do have ovaries, you know,” I joke.
We both bust up and watch our men some more. I love seeing Charlie with Oliver, the way he talks to him as if he’s an adult, and Oliver loves it, too. Monica’s pregnancy forced me to deal with my feelings of inadequacy. It was the best thing that could have happened, because I found a therapist and got some professional help—boxing up my feelings was not working. Therapy wasn’t magic, but I’ve come to accept my reality, and I can see other pregnant women and babies without feelings of jealousy and anger.
Charlie and I decided to buy a home together instead of staying in my condo, and bought this house about six months ago. A definite selling point was the outdoor kitchen and pool in the back yard, making our place the summer hangout spot.
“Do you think you want to have another one?” I ask Monica.
“Not right now, but eventually. I hated being an only child.”
“Well, you look fantastic, almost better than you did before you got pregnant.”
“Oh stop it, my hips are so much wider,” she complains.
“Your hips are not wider! But your tits are huge.”
She laughs and throws a kitchen towel in my face. “What? I can’t help but notice they’re gigantic. I bet Max is enjoying that particular side effect of nursing.”
She blushes. I love pushing her buttons. “He hasn’t complained.”
I laugh. “You ready to eat? Let’s get the boys to fire up the grill.”
We collect the food and bring it outside, setting up the table for our cookout.
Logan and Tate show up just in time to join us. Logan and Charlie still argue over whose best man speech was better, but Max and Monica refuse to weigh in on it. As I sit next to Charlie with our friends in our home, I want to pinch myself. This is bliss.
“You ready babe?” Charlie yells for me as he so often does.
“Just
about,” I holler back.
Tonight is date night and butterflies tickle at my insides. We are meeting up with Tobias and the thought makes me tingle in all the right places. This is only the third time we’ve asked Tobias to join us, and my mind races with the possibilities of what might happen tonight.
When Charlie and I got back together, he told me we could stop the threesomes if I wanted to, but I didn’t want to. It’s dirty and fun and exciting. Why should we stop if we both want it?
Life has taken so many choices away from us, and I like that we get to define our happily ever after.
Maybe my happily ever after doesn’t include marriage or kids.
My happily ever after is Charlie Nelson. He never stops showing me how much he loves me, and I’ll never stop showing him how much I believe in him.
It may be unconventional, but life gave me a second chance at happiness, and I'm not letting it go.
The End
To all of the people who have experienced a miscarriage, unexpected hysterectomy or abortion, I’m so sorry for your loss. Losing a child is hard no matter the circumstances. It’s something that stays with you forever. I hope you are able to heal and find peace. *hugs*
Thank you so much for reading Unconventional!!! I hope you liked Charlie and Quinn’s story as much as I do.
Authors who self-publish are referred to as “Indie Authors” but I did not do this alone. Some fabulous, talented people helped me in the creation of this book and I’m so grateful to each and every one of them!
I have to start with my husband. He is just so supportive and amazing. Thank you for letting me chase this dream!! I love you!
Being an author is really hard, and I would have quit a thousand times if it weren’t for Kim Bailey, Suzanne West and Saffron Kent. You guys are there to encourage me, lift me up when I’m down, give me advice and endless support. Thank you for critiquing my book and not letting me give up when I was SO close. I love you all so hard and I’m so amazed that I get to call you talented authors my friends.
Thank you to my beta readers. Christy Baldwin, Melissa Buyikian, Felicia Eddy, Serena McDonald, Pavlina Michou, Jackie Pinhorn & Desirae Shie. Thank you for taking the time out of your busy lives to help me. Thank you for not blowing smoke up my ass and telling me what worked and what didn’t. Your input made this story into what it is now. I appreciate you!!