His eyes met mine and he uttered a faint, “I don’t know, but for you, I would’ve waited forever.”
Unconsciously, my fingers curled around the thumb that continued to caress my palm. I moved to link our fingers, but pulled away at the very last second. I tried my best to pull off mild indifference. “Where’s Michelle?”
Quinn moved to sit up straight, but winced. “If she’s where I left her, she’s home,” then he mumbled, “Goddamn, this floor is not comfortable.”
I stood from my position by his side then reached for his hands and helped him stand. Once he worked out the kinks from his neck, I took him in.
His suit jacket was lying in a crinkled mess on the floor. His tie was undone, hanging untied around his neck. The two top buttons of his pale blue shirt were undone, and he somehow managed to half untuck his shirt from his slacks.
He was a mess. And he looked beautiful.
“Why are you here, Quinn?” I asked on a near whisper.
His brows creased slightly. “Can I come in?”
I wanted to say no. I wanted to tell him there was nothing to talk about. I wanted to be the smart, sassy girl I always wished I could be, but never really was.
Instead, I took my keys and opened my apartment door, walking through and leaving it open in silent invitation. I switched on the light in the kitchen, set down my shoes and bag, and then turned in time to see Quinn close the door behind him.
He approached me cautiously, as one would a spooked animal. Once he was a foot away, he started talking. “I’m out.”
Out? My brow furrowed in confusion. What did he mean by out?
“It was my last night with DFT. Michelle was my last client.”
I forgot to breathe. What did this mean?
His soft hazel eyes met mine and he took a small step forward. “I haven’t slept with another woman for weeks, Mia, and I certainly didn’t sleep with Michelle tonight.”
My voice cracked, “Why?”
He smiled that smile I love so much, and I saw sunshine. His said quietly, “Because this.” His eyes never left mine as he lowered his face. One hand reached up to cup my cheek as the other drew around my waist.
I didn’t want to be kissed. I needed to be kissed, or I would die. Just die. As his lips made contact with mine, I fell into Matt Quinn. I fell hard. A low groan escaped me as my arms came around his neck, pulling him deeper into me until we were flush against each other. We kissed each other as if it would be our very last. It very well could be.
My hands seemed to have a mind of their own. They gripped, and pulled, and pushed, and I wasn’t sure of what I really wanted. Well, apart from seeing Quinn’s clothes on the floor.
Just as I managed to pull his shirt all the way out of his pants, he pulled back, chuckling lightly and scrubbing a hand down his face. A pained, “Mia,” warned me off, but there was humor in it. He palmed his hard length and groaned, “Ugh. You’re killing me.” I pouted, and when Quinn spotted it, he smiled. “I only planned on kissing those sweet lips tonight, baby.”
I whined, stepping closer to him, a needy hand extended, “But I want to see what make-up sex is all about.”
He chuckled again, but kept his distance. “And when we have it, it’ll be unbelievable, but it’s all different now, Mia.”
I frowned. “How?”
He blinked down at me, a smile curving his full lips. “What, you don’t know?” He took a single step forward, took my outreached hand, and lifted it, kissing my knuckles.
It was then that my world tilted.
It was then he stated, “You’re everything to me.” His lips at my knuckles, he kissed them again sweetly. His eyes trained on mine, he declared a rushed and nervous, “I’m in love with you.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Quinn
This reaction was not exactly the one I wanted.
She stared.
That was about it.
Well, her mouth had parted slightly and she looked a little shocked, but not in the way I’d hoped. She was dumbfounded.
I lost the cool demeanor that had stuck with me through my teen years. Shifting slightly, loosening my hold on her hand, I swallowed hard and forced a nervous laugh. “Say something, Mia.”
Her mouth opened. Then shut. She tried again, her brow creasing, but still, not a word escaped those pretty pink lips. And I had gone from nervously excited to crushed in a second flat. She didn’t love me.
My body heat rose, a flush starting from my neck, working its way up. How could I have gotten it so wrong?
All the signs were there. The way she looked at me. The way she joked and laughed with me. The emotional, as well as the physical, effect we seemed to have on each other…
I groaned, stepping back. My palms dug into the sockets of my eyes as I tried desperately to erase the last seven minutes of my life.
Holy shit. Had I mistaken simple friendship with Mia for love? I knew how I felt about her, but it was possible that I hadn’t been friends with a woman in…well…forever, so I misread the signs.
Oh, God.
Of all the people to misread signs with…
Oh, fuck.
…of course it had to be with my best friend’s sister.
I was never going to live this down. Not ever.
“Oh, God,” I grated. I lowered my palms only low enough to cover my mouth. “You’re not into me, are you?”
Her brows rose as she took in my words. “I—”
My hands fell and I rested one on my hip. I closed my eyes and held the other hand out. “No, Mia. You don’t need to explain. I clearly misread the situation.” I let out a long sigh, looking anywhere but at her. “It’s just that I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and I know you’re Harry’s sister, but…but I thought…” I groaned a laugh. “Well, I feel like an idiot.” Then I actually did laugh. I peeked up at her, speaking softly through my discomfiture. “I thought you were jealous tonight. It never occurred to me that you were just embarrassed to be seen with your hooker.”
We stood there, cautiously looking at one another, Mia wringing her hands together and me unable to speak. I had no idea how to fix this.
Just as I began to apologize, she spoke, whisper-soft, “I was jealous.”
My head snapped up. “What?” I was sure I hadn’t heard her right.
She looked down at her hands, speaking a little louder, “I was jealous.” She took a small step back and wrapped her arms around herself. “I hated her, because she was with you. And my date the other night?” She closed her eyes and breathed out a shaky, “I did that because I was falling for you.” Her smile trembled. “I had to get out before I was in too deep. I needed to forget about you, because…” her eyes shone bright, “because jealousy was killing me.”
Then it was my turn to stare.
Mia shrugged lightly. “I would’ve never asked you to leave your job. I never thought we even had a chance. I tried so hard to make out like it wasn’t a thing, but”—she blinked rapidly and a tear trailed her cheek—“it was killing me.”
My brow creased. “What are you…?” I took a step toward her, my eyes never leaving hers. “What are you saying?” Another step forward. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Her lip twitched and I rushed out, “Because if you’re saying what I think you’re saying, then you need to get over here right now or I’m coming after you, and when I catch you, I’m never letting you go.”
A second tear escaped, and she laughed and sobbed at the same time. Then she grinned at me and said something I would remember for the rest of my life. “Come and get me.”
It took three more steps for me to claim my girl…five minutes to hear her whisper she loved me…and a night of lovemaking to prove it.
And I knew it would take an eternity before I got my fill of Mia Bridgeton.
Chapter Forty-Three
Mia
I rolled my eyes at the doofus stealing all the blankets. “We are not doing this.”
&nb
sp; Quinn sat up, his gloriously bare torso on display. “Why not? It’s a perfectly good and fair way to make a decision.”
I scoffed, pulling the sheets up to my chest as I sat up against the headboard. “I’m not doing this. It’s ridiculous.” He didn’t answer, just held out a fist and raised a brow. I shook my head vigorously.
He sighed long and low, lowering his fist. “I want to talk to Harry. You want to talk to Harry. Rock, paper, scissors is a completely legit way to handle this.” He added hastily, “You’re a girl; you don’t get it. There’s a code between friends. I never should’ve touched you, and now that I have, I should talk to him.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a hand and rushed out, “But…I love you, and I love you enough to do this the fair way.” Out came the damn fist again.
Whenever he said those sneaky words, I was ready to rob a bank for him. I reached over to cup his cheek. “I love you, too.” I let my hand drop, wrapping my palm gently around his fist and bringing it to my chest. “He’s my brother, Quinn.”
His hazel eyes bore into mine as he uttered, “Mine, too.”
My heart stuttered. I was mentally terrified of approaching my brother. “He’s going to be mad,” I stated.
Quinn snorted. “Um…ya think?”
You know what? Maybe Quinn should talk to him.
Coward!
He smiled as I wore my indecision like a fluorescent pink headband. He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to my cheek, and I breathed him in. The scent of him calmed me. He kissed my cheek, over and over, before kissing my lips once, whisper-soft. “Let me talk to him.” I opened my eyes to find a cautious but sincere man looking back at me. “Please. Let me do this.”
Heart racing, I admitted quietly, “I’m scared.”
His hesitation told me he felt the same, but he covered with, “Everything’s going to be fine. I promise.”
I watched Quinn dress from my place on the bed. Silently, I wondered how this had all happened and, more importantly, how I managed to make a man like Matt Quinn fall in love with little ‘ole me.
A small stretched my lips and Quinn caught it. “Pervert,” he muttered under his breath, and I laughed.
He left with the promise to return in a couple of hours, and from the second he walked out the door, I waited with bated breath.
It was only four in the afternoon, but after my shower, I dressed straight into my pajamas. I told myself I wasn’t counting the two hours and thirty-five minutes Quinn had been gone. With every minute that passed, a sense of calm washed over me.
Harry had to understand. I knew once Quinn explained he’d accept that we loved each other and support us. This was Harry we were talking about. Harry was smart and rational, and he was my biggest fan. He would want me to be happy.
I’d just plaited my freshly washed hair when I heard shouting coming from the hall. I couldn’t make out exactly what was being said, but two men were yelling over the top of each other, and both of them sounded irate. My heart skipped a beat as I rushed to unlock my apartment door. I hadn’t realized by doing that I was inviting World War III into my living room.
The door slammed open and I managed to get out of the way just in time to watch my door handle make a hole in my wall.
Harry stomped into the room, looking furious. “Mia, what the fuck?”
I blinked, eyes wide. My heart beat harder than a staccato drumbeat. I took a step back.
Quinn came in a second after, glowering at my brother, a trickle of blood running down his nose and over his top lip. I took a step toward him, hand extended, and near shouted, “You’re bleeding.”
A hand clamped my wrist and pulled me back. I stumbled, but righted myself before I fell. Harry didn’t notice and spat, “Don’t you fucking touch her,” at the very same time Quinn’s eyes flashed and he hissed, “Get your fucking hands off her.”
I turned in time to see Harry threaten Quinn through narrowed brows, “I’m going to kick your ass.”
Quinn smiled viciously in response, licking at the blood on his lip. “You already tried and did a shitty job of it, buddy.” The use of the endearment ‘buddy’ came out as if he were anything but.
My voice shook. “What’s going on with you two?” I shook Harry’s hand off and stepped away from both of them, doing my best to steel my shaking voice. “What the hell?” But they ignored me.
“You’re not dating my sister,” Harry grated.
I jerked at his tone. It was one I’d never heard before.
Quinn growled, “Never asked your permission.”
Harry barked a laugh. “What a fucking joke you are.”
“You’d know. You always did have a way of saving me from myself,” Quinn stated honestly.
“Does anyone care about what I think?” I manage to say. But it was as futile as talking to a blender and a brick wall.
Harry’s face turned bright red. “You’re not good enough for her. You never were.”
Quinn’s face turned pained. He yelled back, “You think I don’t know that? Fuck!” He panted a distressed, “I love her.”
Harry threw back his head and laughed. And the sound of it shriveled my heart. It was cruel and punishing, and I’d never heard my brother be any of those things before. Quinn closed his eyes, wounded.
Tears stung my eyes. I blinked them back.
Harry’s hands balled into fists that shook by his sides. He whispered a fierce, “Anyone. You could’ve had anyone…”
Quinn’s eyes snapped open and he roared, “I don’t want anyone!” His eyes came to mine. He uttered a soft, “I want her.” I felt his words touch my very soul. “I love her.”
A silence fell over us. A silence so thick I could’ve carved it.
Then I turned and spoke directly to my brother, who still burned holes into Quinn’s head. “I love him, Har.” My brother turned to face me. He’d lost some of his steam, but not much. I made my way to Quinn’s side in silent union. “I’m in love with him.”
Harry blinked a moment before his eyes closed and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fuck, Mia…”
My argument rushed out of me before I could stop it. “You told me I’ve never given you a reason to doubt my judgment. You told me I’ve never made a bad decision before. I’m not starting now.” I shrugged lightly before taking Quinn’s hand and linking our fingers. “I’m so sorry, Har. This is my fault. Quinn didn’t do anything wrong. I lied to him. This happened because of me, so if you want to blame someone, blame the person responsible.” I looked up at the man I’d dreamed about for years to find him looking down at me, watching me with a soft expression that read I love you. I explained, “What’s done is done. I love him. He loves me. And we’re going to be together, whether you like it or not.” My expression was pleading. I spoke quietly, emotion clogging my throat, “So I would really like you to like it, because I don’t think I could handle you not speaking to me right now, Har.”
My brother stared at me, and his suddenly strained appearance told me I was hurting him in a big way. So it broke my heart when he turned on his heel and walked out of my apartment, but not before he muttered, “I can’t believe this shit.”
I chanced a look over at Quinn, and all I saw was raw, aching pain.
We stood there, holding hands, clutching to each other like a lifeline. Approximately two minutes after my brother walked out on me, I burst into tears, crying just as hard as I did the day Mark Wayne cut off my braid in seventh grade.
Quinn and I decided an early night was probably best. After all, we’d barely spoken a word to each other since Harry had left.
I wasn’t sure what to say or do. My brother had made it clear he was not going to be supporting Quinn and me. That hurt me in a way I never expected. My brother was everything to me. In short, I was absolutely devastated. A dull ache throbbed in the place my heart would be if he hadn’t ripped it out hours earlier.
Quinn held me all night, and with my back to his chest, he stroked my arm, squeezed me
tightly, and kissed the side of my neck lovingly in silent consolation. It didn’t matter. I didn’t feel any of it. I was numb. Quinn and I had officially been a couple for one whole day, and I felt as though we were already doomed.
This was not how it should’ve been, dammit! I’d been fantasizing about this moment for most of my late teens. This was not how it was meant to be. My heart ached silently as another bout of sorrow swept through me.
I sniffled, squeezing my eyes closed as I reached up to Quinn’s forearm and clutched at it.
“Baby,” he murmured gently, “come here.”
My body turned, and I buried my face in his neck and let out a wretched sob. He wrapped me up, placing soft kisses to my temple in a way I loved so much.
No.
This was not how it was meant to be.
I cried myself into silence, knowing a decision had to be made.
Later that day, I drew up my big girl pantaloons and went someplace I was pretty sure I was not welcome. Ignoring that fact, I raised my hand and knocked.
The door opened and my mom stood there, her face disapproving. “Mia, you have a key, sweetie. You don’t need to knock.”
The knot in my stomach untied as I let myself in behind her. “I didn’t know if you’d want to see me,” I admitted.
She waved a hand back at me as we found ourselves in the kitchen. “Over that little tiff?” Her brow knotted, but she softened it with a smile. “We’re a family. We’re bound to have a few of those. Honestly, I’m surprised it hadn’t come sooner.”
My brows rose. Who was this woman?
As she caught my surprised expression, she smiled and reached over to pat my hand. “Grandma was a pain in the ass, Mia. On a good day, I could barely stand her. She raised me. I was bound to be a pain in your ass every now and again.”