It seems like my entire life revolves around defending myself from something or running from another. Hit after hit. I’m tired of fighting.
My rational side is screaming at me to just tell him everything. Tell him how I feel. See if he feels the same. See if there’s a way to make things work. To stop denying the connection between us.
If he doesn’t feel the same, then at least I’ll have my answer once and for all. I need to stop letting my mind manipulate things because that’s what I do. And it hasn’t always worked out the best for me. Not even close.
I’m thirty years old. It’s time to act like it. I’m working on taking my life back, and Alex is a huge part of the life I want. I need to know what he sees for us. Is he really just a nice guy who wants to help the woman he once loved or does he still in fact love me like he claimed just a few months ago?
AS I HEAD into Quinn’s building I have no idea what to expect. I received a text from her earlier today asking if I wanted to have dinner. That’s like asking the man stranded in the desert if he wants a drink of water. I’ve always been a slave to the woman, never been able to turn her down.
A slew of different situations dances through my mind as I walk through the door of her place.
She could tell me she’s completely changed her mind and is still going to go through with marrying Jordan.
Or she still isn’t marrying Jordan but still doesn’t want to be with me. She just wants to be friends, if that’s even possible
Or that she isn’t marrying Jordan and does want to be with me.
I’m hoping like hell it’s the last scenario, but who knows. The only thing I’m certain about is no matter how many times I tell myself I’m letting go and moving on, I never truly do.
This is what this woman does to me. She turns me into an idiot who stands outside her building with rambling thoughts instead of heading inside and just finding out what’s going on. When it comes to Quinn and her life at the moment, you never know what the hell is going to happen next. Nothing is ever as it seems.
It feels like judgment day as I make my way to her door. Behind this door lie the answers to all the questions swirling inside my head.
But will I like the answers?
is the question of the hour.
Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply through my nose and blow it out slowly through my mouth as I raise my hand and rap my knuckles on her door.
The door opens rather quickly, almost as if she was waiting behind it for me to arrive. The apprehensive look in her eyes tells me she’s as nervous as I am about how this night will go. But it doesn’t give me any help in trying to figure out which way things will play out.
“Hi,” she squeaks, a pink blush creeping up her neck to her face and ears as her voice cracks.
“Hi,” I smile back while trying to keep the rest of my face even so she doesn’t see the array of emotions coursing through me at the sight of her. She looks beautiful. So much better than the crying mess that was on my couch last weekend. Whatever decisions she and Jordan have made has eased her mind in some way. There’s a lighter air about her now and the luminous aura that was always surrounding her is almost visible again. Even in a simple long-sleeved top and those black leggings she’s always wearing at home, she looks like a super model. The sadness I’ve seen living in her over the last few months isn’t cloaking her anymore. I hope that’s a good sign. For her
and
for me.
“I ordered from the Portuguese place around the corner. It should be here soon. Hope you still like paella,” she says, moving aside so that I can make my way in.
“I do,” I grin as she closes the door. Her remembering my favorite dish from a place we ate at from time to time is a good sign. As long as she didn’t order it as comfort food for after she completely closes the door on us.
Why am I so obsessed with trying to figure out if she wants to be with me? Am I sure that I even want to be with her? Before the day of the wedding that never happened, I was positive I was done with her. But then when the chance to be her knight in shining armor comes around, I fall right back down the rabbit hole that comes with Quinn Taylor.
God, I sound like such a pussy. It’s going to be what it’s going to be, and I can figure out what to do about it after.
She forces a smile onto her face as she answers. “Great.” The word flies out quickly as if she doesn’t get the word out fast she’ll say something else instead. It’s obvious, to me anyway, Quinn wants to say more but is trying to work it out. She’s avoiding eye contact; I’m standing right in front of her but she’s looking in every other direction. She’s bouncing on the balls of her bare feet—nervous energy.
I give her a moment to decide. But when she doesn’t say anything after what seems like minutes of silence, I throw her a lifeline. “Say it, Quinn. I know you want to say something. Just say it. It’s okay.”
After a few more seconds of quiet, she takes it. “I kind of want to get the awkward talk done before dinner. I’d like to just hang out and catch up after,” she confesses before adding in, “If you still want to, of course.”
My brain processes what she’s saying, but it doesn’t make too much sense. Quinn wants to catch up but is worried about if I’ll still want to? Does that mean bad news for me? I’m over wondering what’s going to happen, so it doesn’t really matter what she’s worried about. It’s time to be straight. If she wants to talk now then we’ll talk now.
“Sure, whatever you want,” I tell her heading further in to the living room.
Quinn follows quietly and when I sit on the couch, she perches herself on the other side, tucking her legs under her butt and angles her body toward mine.
Staring down at the empty seat between us, she fiddles with a string on the bottom of her pants before she starts talking. “I have a lot to say. I’m just trying to decide where to start.”
When she finally raises her eyes to mine, I nod, acknowledging her comment.
“I guess first I need to thank you for being there for me. You didn’t have to be, but you have been. You’ve helped me when I needed someone to tell me everything would be okay. Somehow you always know exactly what I need to hear.” She shakes her head with a small, amused grin.
“You don’t need to thank me for that,” I tell her. There’s really no need for it. I’m glad I was able to help her when she needed it. She may have fucked me over in a bad way, but that doesn’t mean I want anything bad to happen to her.
“Yes, I do. After everything that’s happened between us, you should’ve told me to go fuck myself,” she disagrees with an incredulous laugh. “I wouldn’t have helped me if I were you.”
I don’t bother to correct her this time because there’s no point. “You’re welcome,” I say, giving her the answer she seems to need.
She gives me a nod of thanks for the answer before continuing. “Jordan and I worked through a lot of stuff when he finally came back to his place.”
“How did that go?”
A pit starts to form in the bottom of my stomach. Her face gives away nothing. What did they work through exactly? If her and Jordan are going to get back together and go through with getting married, at least this time she seems to be willing to give me answers instead of running away.
“Things are definitely a little weird between us right now, but Jordan came up with a plan that he thinks will work,” she answers, tucking her knees under her chin.
There’s no inflection in her voice, and it’s lacking confidence. “You don’t seem too happy. You don’t like the plan?”
“It’s a decent plan and everyone thinks it’s the easiest way to accomplish what’s best for all of us. But it’s also pretty risky and unpredictable.”
Nope, not liking the sound of that. “How unpredictable?”
Turmoil swirls in her eyes as she looks at me. “We can’t predict my father’s reaction to everything. There’s no guarantee he’ll react in our favor, and if he doesn’t we could be fucked.”
“Is this plan a secret? Are you not allowed to tell me?” I ask, unsure of why we’re speaking in riddles.
Her eyes go a little frightened as she replies. “The plan actually involves you, so, no, it’s not a secret.”
“Me?” What the hell can I possibly do?
“The main part of the plan requires you to help me. Jordan believes if he can convince my father I’m not so discretely running around on him, he can get him to believe Jordan wants to cut me out of the merger and humiliate me for embarrassing him. He wants us to publicly date.”
I don’t like it at all. Pretending to date Quinn won’t work out well for me. I imagine he wants us in public to have our picture seen somewhere. Pictures of her doing something wrong. With me. I can’t fake that with her. No way.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
Her head nods slowly in understanding, “I was shocked myself when Jordan brought it up. He seems to think it’s a great idea because I still have feelings for you. His words, not mine.”
“Do you?” The words fly from my lips. My hope is rising. My heart beats faster. Is it possible? “Do you still have feelings for me?”
“I still have something for you. I’m just not all too in-tune with feelings, so I don’t know exactly what it is,” she chuckles softly. “I’m drawn to you. I don’t want to be, but I am.”
Ain’t that a kick to the gut?
“So sorry,” I scoff, pissed off at her casual attitude towards my feelings. Still, after all this time, how I feel means nothing to her.
“I wasn’t trying to insult you,” she interrupts my thoughts.
“Try harder next time,” I bite back.
“Stop with the attitude, okay? I wasn’t being a bitch. I was being honest. I don’t want to be drawn to you the way that I am, Alex. You deserve better than me. I can see what loving me has done to you. I know you’ll be here every time I call. And I will call because you’re the only one who quiets the noise for me. And I don’t want to keep hurting you or myself. Guilt consumes me every time I look at you.”
My head slowly turns toward her and I take her in. She’s done it again. The anger from just a few minutes ago is forgotten. She’s talking to me. Opening up. Voluntarily. I don’t want to do a damn thing to cause her to revert back to not telling me what’s on her mind, but I also want to yell at her for thinking that way. She fucked up. But she doesn’t get to decide the fate of this thing between us alone—again.
“Why do you get to decide what I deserve?”
When my eyes meet hers, she lowers and closes them before taking a deep breath.
All I want to do is pull her into my arms and tell her that I’ll do anything in my power to help her make sure this plan works out. I want to breathe her in and feel her body against mine. Hold her to me and never let anything hurt her again.