by Lacey Black
“Oh. Okay.” She sits for a few more seconds, waiting for me to say something else. When it’s clear I’m not going to, she reaches for her door handle.
Automatically, I jump out and head to her door. It would be easier if I had just stayed in my seat, but no, I had to climb out of the truck to be a gentleman. The problem is now she’s directly in front of me, I want to touch her.
And kiss her.
And go inside with her.
“Well, thank you for taking me to dinner with your family. They’re nice.” She looks up at me with those bluest of blue eyes, and I swear I can actually feel my heart crack under the hurt. As much as I’ve tried to avoid it, I’ve fallen in love with Quinn Michaels.
“You’re welcome,” I reply, running my hands through my hair to keep from reaching for her.
“I hope you feel better.” She steps forward, bewilderment and dejection written plainly across her face, as she waits to see what I do.
I’m a weak man. This is only a new development in regard to her. That’s the only explanation as to why I step forward, intending to kiss her cheek, but I catch a whiff of her floral scent. My lips turn at the last minute and take hers, slowly and seductively. Quinn groans the sexiest sound ever, which goes straight to my cock.
This is easy.
Effortless.
This crazy passion consumes me when she’s near. I could kiss her for hours, days even.
Forever.
That one word dances through my mind, causing me to rip my lips from hers. We’re both panting, her eyes glazed over as she looks up at me. The invitation is there. She wants me to come inside, and a big part—specifically, the part controlling my dick—really wants to go. But the other part, confirms I’m getting too close.
And I don’t want that.
“Listen, Quinn,” I find myself saying, almost on autopilot.
Before my eyes, I see realization set in. Her spine stiffens as she takes a step back, seeking space. Instantly, I want to draw her back to me.
But I don’t.
I can’t.
“You know, we said we’d have a little fun until it didn’t work for one of us anymore.” Fuck, I hate this.
Quinn nods, but doesn’t say anything.
“And, well, I’ve had a lot of fun with you, but I’m thinking it’s time to end this.”
“End this,” she parrots, her mouth falling open as she gapes at me.
“Yeah, you know, we’ve had fun,” I start, but she interrupts.
“Fun, yeah, you’ve said that already.” Her tone is a little annoyed, which sort of grates my nerves.
“You’re right. My point is, we agreed that once this didn’t work for one of us, we’d end it.”
“And so you’re saying it’s no longer working for you,” she says, filling in the blanks.
“That’s right.”
Why does it taste like I’m trying to swallow dirt?
“You’re right,” she replies, taking another step back.
Wait, what?
“I’m right?”
She nods. “You’re right. This was our agreement, and if you’re ready to move on, have more fun somewhere else, then this is where we part ways.” There’s a strength in her voice, a resolve in her words I wasn’t prepared for. My heart sinks when I realize she thinks I’m ready to just move on to someone else. She has no clue how deeply she’s embedded in my soul.
And that’s my fault.
Because I’m too afraid to tell her.
When I meet her eyes, there’s a flash of hurt and sadness, but she covers it quickly.
“I’ve had a great time with you, Bestie Tami with an I,” I tell her honestly, drawing a smile to her lips.
“I’ve enjoyed my time with you too, Rigsby.”
Then, she steps forward and throws her arms around my waist. Mine wrap around her shoulders, drawing her into my chest. I take one deep breath, committing the scent of her shampoo to memory. Something tells me I’ll remember it forever.
Just like her.
I’ll never forget her.
When I rest my chin on the top of her head, I just breathe her in. For the last time. “I hope you find everything you’re looking for, Quinn.” And I do. I hope she gets the husband who worships her, the house, and the kids who’ll decorate the refrigerator with art and build blanket forts in the living room. Shit, she’ll probably get a dog too.
She pulls back and looks up. There’re tears in her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall. Instead, she gives me a brave smile, which causes my heart to ache even more. Quinn places her palm on my cheek, cupping my face. “I hope you find your happiness too. Whatever that is, I hope you find it.” Quinn steps forward and places her lips against mine.
One last kiss.
Then she backs away, grabs her bag, turns quickly, and heads to her front door. She finds her keys and lets herself in. I watch as she sets her overnight bag down and turns to face me. Her hand is poised on the door, ready to close it.
To close this chapter of her life.
I wave and give her a smile, wishing it didn’t have to be like this.
But it does.
I turn and return to my truck, hopping onto the driver’s seat and throwing the ignition in reverse. As I back out of the drive, Jack whimpers, dropping his head on my shoulder. It’s like he senses my despair, feels the growing distance between Quinn and us. Before I pull away one last time, I glance back up at the house. She’s still standing there, her head resting against the door, watching me drive out of her life. I swear I can see the tears falling down her soft cheeks.
Jack barks as I finally pull away and head toward home. He hangs his head once more, his mood suddenly as miserable as my own. “I know, buddy, but this was for the best,” I tell man’s best friend. I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince more: him or me.
It only takes a few minutes before I’m pulling into my own driveway, Jack eager to get out. I watch as he marks his territory and sniffs every spot in the yard, chastising myself for doing the one thing I swore I’d never, ever do.
I fell in love.
And love is a bitch.
It sneaks up and blindsides you when you least expect it, leaving you in a world of hurt and pain.
I mentally scan my liquor cabinet, because there’s only one way I’m going to get through this night, and that’s with a bottle of something strong and unforgiving. Something that’ll knock me on my ass and ensure I have a shitty day tomorrow. Something that’ll help me forget, at least for tonight.
Just not tequila.
***
Seven in the morning comes awfully early when you haven’t slept a wink.
I get to my office thirty minutes before the staff and slam my office door by accident, sending a photo on the wall flying, glass shattering as it hits the hardwood floor. Figures. I spend the next ten minutes looking for a decent broom, sweeping up the shards, and tossing the photo in the trash. When the mess is finally cleaned up, I drop into my chair like a sack of bricks and sigh, hands running through my hair in agitation.
I’ve slept on the hard, dirty desert, in a bunker with a dozen other men while bombs blew up nearby, hell, I even once slept standing up against a brick wall, but all of those times were more relaxing and comfortable than trying to sleep in my empty bed last night. No amount of blankets or pillows or Jack Daniels would help.
I even tried to run. Have you ever run at two in the morning, slightly drunk, up and down a mountain? Let’s just say the cut across my shin is the result of that poor decision. I’m lucky I didn’t cut open my head, though that’d probably serve me right for being a dumbass.
My phone chimes with a text, and I practically fall out of my chair trying to get to it. I’m both afraid and praying for it to be from Quinn. I’ve never wanted to see someone’s name on my phone so fucking badly, yet dread it at the same time. And I’ve never prayed for it be someone I just broke up with.
Ever.
Until Quinn.
<
br /> I glance at the screen, only to find my brother’s name. Part of me wants to ignore it, but since it could be about my mom, I find myself swiping my finger across the screen.
Rueben: How’d last night go?
Me: Fine.
Rueben: Fine?
Me: Yes, Rueben, fine. Busy. Just got to work.
Rueben: So, crabby and irritable. Got it.
Me: Fuck off.
Rueben: Don’t need to. I gotta girl for that.
Now, he’s just trying to piss me off. I almost reply I have one too, but I realize that’s not true. Not anymore. I pushed my girl away because…because we want different things. And you can’t make it work long term when you’re not traveling on the same path. Sure, we may be on the same road for a stretch, but in the end, she’ll wind up married and happy, and I’ll be me, as free as the wind blows.
Except, why doesn’t that sound as appealing as it used to?
Rueben: So how did things go with Quinn last night? You seemed a little freaked out when you left.
Me: Fine.
Rueben: *insert eyeroll gif*
Rueben: Fine, be a stubborn jackass and don’t say anything, but listen up. I could tell by the look in your eye you’re about to fuck this up with her. Don’t do it.
Too late.
Rueben: I’m sorry I said anything last night. Just chill and see where things go with her. We really like her.
I sigh and drop my phone on my desk with a thud. Yeah, he has no clue I already fucked everything up with Quinn, but do you know what? It’s for the best. End it now before we both get in too deep.
Yeah, might be too late for that too.
What I need is a night out. Head to my old stomping ground and hang out with the tourists. Nothing cheers me up faster than a group of bachelorettes looking for a wild and memorable night together. That’s something I can provide. Something I’m familiar with. Good Time Royce. That’s me.
Except tonight, it doesn’t sound like a good time. Tonight, maybe I’ll just hang at home and have a few beers on my back deck with Jack.
And try not to think about Quinn.
Chapter Twenty
Quinn
I start to stretch on my mat, waiting for this morning’s session to begin. It’s busy for a Saturday morning, but that suits me just fine. The last thing I need is to be alone with my thoughts, because those aren’t very forgiving right now.
Last night was hard enough to get through. First thing I had to do was wash my bedding. The sheets smelled like Royce and sex from the night before, and there was no way I was getting any sleep with those memories haunting me. That’s when I found myself cleaning my entire house, top to bottom at midnight. Jack’s hair was everywhere, and even though I didn’t mind, if I was doing a deep clean, I might as well get rid of that too.
But that only made me miss them.
Both of them.
And then I got pissed off.
At Royce for being too chickenshit to give us a chance and at myself for not listening to my head when it said I would only get hurt. Well, head, you were right. I got hurt. I fell in love with a man who won’t commit, but what makes it worse is he was nothing but honest the entire time. I knew there was no future, yet I went ahead and dove into the water. Without seeing the bottom or what dangers lurked within, I jumped, headfirst, into the deep.
And came out a little battered on the other end.
But I’m not broken. Oh, no. Far from it. It was about four in the morning when I realized I didn’t need Royce Rigsby. I don’t need him at all, even though my heart hasn’t quite caught up with my head quite yet.
“What the heck? Did you get run over by a truck this morning?” Sabrina exclaims, as she unrolls her mat beside mine.
I roll my eyes and stretch out my lower back. “No, just didn’t sleep very well,” I reply cheerfully.
“Very well or at all?” my nosy best friend asks, as she plops down beside me and turns to face me.
I shrug in reply, feeling her eyes take in my frazzled appearance. I’m sure she sees my mismatched outfit, my unwashed hair pulled in a crazy knot on top of my head, and my makeup-less face. I wasn’t exactly going for the homeless look when I left the house a little bit ago, but at this point, I don’t really care.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, starting to do her own stretches, all while keeping one eye on me.
Again, I shrug, anxiously wishing this morning’s yoga instructor would begin the class.
“Everything okay with your family?”
I sigh, realizing she’s not going to let this go. Again, that’s my fault too. I should have realized showing up to yoga looking like I partied all night wasn’t going to do me any favors where Sabrina is concerned. “My family is fine.”
She makes a tsking sound and continues to scrutinize my appearance. “So, if your family is okay, then it can only be one thing. Man troubles.”
I can’t even stop the flinch before it hits my facial features.
“Ah ha! I was right. What did Royce do?” she asks as Crystal heads to the front of the room.
“Are we ready to begin?” Crystal asks, as she starts to lead the group in our first stretch.
“Shh, time to concentrate,” I mumble, grateful for the temporary reprieve.
“Mmhmm, don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. We’ll talk after class,” Sabrina states, joining in the group stretching activities.
After the forty-five minute class ends, Sabrina launches at me like a cheetah. “Okay, spill.”
I sigh dramatically and roll up my mat. “Nothing really to say. We agreed to keep it casual and we did. It was casual, and now it’s over. End of story.”
I can feel her eyes on me like a stabby knife. “Casual, huh? Then why do you look like you cried yourself to sleep? I’ve barely seen you, let alone talked to you in the last, like, two weeks. That’s not casual.”
“Well, it’s over now, so why does it matter?”
Sabrina stands beside me and studies me. “Okay, so here’s what’s going to happen. I’m coming over with pizza, ice cream, and margaritas.”
Tequila.
Great.
“I’m evoking the best friend breakup pact,” she states, nodding her head and making a mental checklist.
“Is that really necessary?” I ask, mentally groaning at what this entails.
“Of course! Anytime you have a breakup, no matter how big or small, you evoke the pact!”
I let out another sigh and head for the door. “What time should I expect you?”
“Six!”
With a wave over my shoulder, I walk to my car and try to prepare myself for the chaos that will ensue tonight at six. If I’m lucky, it’ll just be us. If luck isn’t quite on my side—which, let’s be honest, I’m not at all comfortable thinking it is—she’ll only bring two additional friends. Hopefully, it’s nothing like last time.
Last time I wound up half naked and very drunk while binge watching John Hughes movies.
***
The good thing about having company tonight is I didn’t have to clean. My house was already spotless, thanks to my late night/early morning clean-fest.
After yoga, I showered and was able to take a nap. A nap that lasted four and a half hours. Now, I’m making some taco dip and cutting garden vegetables for snacks. Not that we’ll eat too many veggies, unless we’re dipping them into the taco stuff. Any best friend pact involves junk food, and a lot of it. I’m wearing a pair of navy yoga pants and an oversized T-shirt. That’ll help with the bloating and expanding stomach that’s on deck for this evening.
At six, a knock sounds at the door. I know it can’t be Sabrina, since she’s almost always late. Plus, she’s the friend who never knocks, just barges in like she owns the place. When I open the door, I’m pleased to find my friend, Laura, there. I immediately pull her into a hug, close my eyes, and send a silent thank you to Sabrina for invoking the pact. “I can’t believe you’re here,” I whisper, fighting t
o keep the tears at bay.
She pulls back and grins, wetness in her own eyes too. “Justin can handle the kids for a little while tonight. I get four hours of uninterrupted adult time, and I’m going to use it,” she proclaims, stepping inside with a bag. She holds it up and says, “Ice cream.”
Before I can shut the door, a second car pulls along the road and stops. I spy my friend Joy’s raven black hair immediately. She comes running to the door wearing comfy clothes and a big smile, a stack of DVDs in hand. “I have movies and margaritas!” she proclaims when she hits my porch. Joy instantly throws her arm around my neck and hugs me tight. “I can’t believe it’s been, like, almost a year since I’ve seen you!”
I squeeze her extra hard. “Well, we’ve all been busy. How’s work?” I ask, as I escort her into my home.
“Ugh. So busy. They have me traveling almost every week right now. The last six months have been so hectic,” she says, reaching for Laura and giving her a hug. “How about you? You ready for baby number three?”
Laura laughs. “Well, maybe. Both of my other kids were conceived after a night of alcohol, so you never know what tonight might bring.”
For the first time in what feels like forever, I smile my first real smile. Actually, no that’s not true. There were real smiles last night too. You know, before Royce freaked and ended things.
My happiness must falter because Joy suddenly pulls me into her arms once more. “I’m sorry you’re hurt, Q. Tonight, we’re going to drink and eat and watch cheesy rom-com eighties movies until we’re ready to explode.”
I shrug. “Actually, I’d be perfectly content catching up,” I tell her, leading them both to the kitchen. “When was the last girls’ night we had anyway?”
Laura groans. “Almost a year ago, because I got pregnant with Mason that night.”
“See? It’s been way too long. I’m glad you’re both here so we can catch up a little.”
The door bursts open and my best friend flounces in, the scent of garlic and cheese filtering through the doorway. “I have pizza!” she proclaims, smiling when she sees Joy and Laura already here. “I’m so glad you were both able to come.”
“Me too. I was supposed to be in Detroit this weekend, but it got pushed back a few weeks,” Joy says.