“Thanks for the advice, asshole.”
“Anytime, douchebag.”
I disconnect and head to the window. The place I found is a few floors above hers and it would be so easy to go to her, but I won’t do that until I know for sure what my plan is. Liam is right, her life is about to change, and I’ve caused enough issues to last her a lifetime.
I stare out at the skyline and wonder if I could walk away if I wanted to.
I know that I couldn’t.
Now, I just need to get off my ass and get my life together.
9
Ashton
I did it. I pushed him away. I knew it would happen with those few little words, and even though that was my goal . . . I wanted to be wrong.
He said he loves me. For the first time, those words escaped his lips and my world tilted just a bit.
Then he didn’t chase me, and that tilt became nothing but broken ground beneath my feet.
It’s almost ten, and while I wish I could fall asleep, there’s not a chance in hell it’ll happen. I grab my workbag and a glass of wine and flop onto the couch. Since there’s nothing else to do, I might as well browse the book before I chicken out.
I’m not sure what parameters to look for, though. Obviously, I want someone who is in good health and smart. There are a few types of smart—book and street—and I can’t exactly tell if a guy has common sense based on his bio, but I want the father to be someone I might have chosen if he and I met.
I flip each page slowly and sip my wine, but when I’m about halfway through, I groan.
Not one guy has appealed to me.
I blame Quinn. If he hadn’t shown up, the firefighter with the tight ass would’ve been perfect.
Knock, knock, knock.
I jump, almost spilling my wine. Who the hell is at my door this late? I didn’t order food so there are really only a few other possibilities. One is that my stupid ex-boyfriend has come out of his statue-like state—three hours later—and wants to talk. Another is that it’s someone who doesn’t know what apartment they’re at. Three is that it’s a hero with an impressive dick who is going to save me from the hell of picking a sperm donor.
Knock, knock, knock.
Well, whoever it is, they don’t possess the gift of patience.
I get up, grab my bat that sits by the front door because the asshole superintendent painted our doors including our peepholes, and open it.
“You’re like a cockroach!” I say with exasperation when I see Quinn, who I was hoping it wasn’t.
“That would’ve been a good call sign.”
I roll my eyes. “I think you live up to yours pretty well, Ladykiller. You killed a part of me.”
Quinn steps forward, eyeing the bat. I raise a brow in challenge because I’m not afraid to hit him. Maybe it would knock some sense into the asshole. Though, we both know he could have the bat out of my hand and have me tossed on the floor with my arms behind my back before I could lift the damn thing.
“I never wanted to.”
I sigh and push the door open. “Might as well come in.”
He enters my apartment and looks around, always surveying the scene.
At first, I couldn’t understand it, but after Catherine explained that it’s their training, I found myself doing it too. I know where the exits are, I hate sitting with my back to the door, and I’m always paying attention to little things.
What he sees is that I haven’t cleaned in a week and still haven’t unpacked from my trip to California. Besides that, everything is still the same. I haven’t changed or done much of anything since I moved in.
Finally, he looks at me with a smile. “The only thing I hope to kill is the hatred you have toward me.”
“I don’t hate you. That’s the issue.”
Quinn’s head bobs as he moves around. “You don’t love me, that’s also the issue.”
If he only knew.
“Maybe you should’ve given me a reason to love you.”
Quinn’s eyes soften as he stares at me. “I’d like to give you them now.”
I sigh and shake my head. “It’s too late.”
“You keep saying that, but I don’t believe you.”
He’s so damn arrogant some days. Today being one of them. I just wish I weren’t getting slightly turned on by it.
There’s something wrong with me.
Only I would find him standing here, looking all badass and ready to win me back, sexy. He’s the guy who has failed me time and time again.
I sit on the couch and glare at him. “In case you missed what happened on the street earlier, things have changed. We’re not the same people anymore. I’m not in love with you, and we both know you’re not in love with me.”
He smirks. “Do we now?”
“I sure do.”
“And what exactly is it that you know?”
“The sheer volume of things would floor you,” I say back with sarcasm.
Quinn sits beside me. “Then, feel free to enlighten me.”
Fine. “First, you don’t love me.”
“I disagree,” he interrupts.
“Good for you, but it’s true.”
He shifts closer so his leg presses against mine. “How do you know what’s true, Ash? How can you know? I’m here. I’m sitting next to you, even with the information you dropped on the street. I don’t care if you’re pregnant, I want you.”
This is totally backfiring on me, so I change tactics. Quinn is a jealous and possessive guy. I have to make him think there’s someone else. “I love the baby’s father.”
That makes him stop inching toward me. “Don’t lie to me, fragolina. You already told me there was no one else.”
Fuck. I forgot that I said that on the porch. “I lied then.”
He laughs once. “Nice try.” And then he moves as if he’s going to climb over me. The only option I have is to move back to avoid his mouth.
“I don’t love you.”
“I think you do, but that’s for another time.”
I’m now lying flat on my back as he braces himself above me. How the hell did I get here? My whole entire mission was to piss him off and make him leave me alone. However, he’s doesn’t seem to have the same ideas that I do.
Doesn’t he see how much it breaks me to be this weak to him? It’s exhausting trying to be so strong all the time. My heart is racing and my palms are sweating as I try to formulate a way out of this situation. I could knee him in the balls, but that would be mean. I could yell and push him away, but I don’t want to.
“What do you want, Ash?”
You.
I want you.
I’m not strong enough for this. My fingers slide up his back, and he winces. “Quinn?”
“It’s fine.”
I sit up, shoving him back with me. “Let me see.”
Unlike a normal person, he doesn’t lift the back of his shirt. No, he pulls it off, giving me the other thing on him I can’t resist . . . the perfect view of his washboard abs.
As much as I’d like to ogle him, I can’t appreciate the unbelievable shape of his body because there are angry red marks and a bandage right under the tattoo of the frog skeleton on the right side of his chest that wraps around to his back.
“I told you I came home a few days early.”
“You just said you were fine.”
He leans back, brushing his hand over his face. “And I am fine.”
“What happened?”
“An accident.”
“Please don’t be coy with me. You’re hurt . . . more than just your leg. You lost King, and I want to know how you got hurt.”
Quinn shifts. “Everything is fine. I don’t want to talk about it.”
I release a heavy breath, pulling my legs underneath me. We don’t talk, and we never have, which is what has put us in this mess to begin with. “This is part of the problem, you know? I want to be here for you, but you don’t know how to let me. You say you love me, a
nd I think, somewhere inside you, that’s true. But not communicating is not the kind of relationship I want. I used to be okay with it, the secrets and us having separate lives. I understood that you had to protect yourself because of your job. But the more you did that, the more you pushed me out and the more my heart broke.”
He jerks back, and I see the anger and fear starting to build. “Because I don’t want to tell you all the gory details?”
“I’m not asking for details, Quinn. I’m asking for you to let me in. I’m asking for you to share something with me. Not about the accident, but about what happened.”
He gets to his feet, and I wrap my arms around my stomach to keep it together. I have no idea if he’s going to tell me or if he’s going to walk out.
“I can’t tell you.”
When our eyes meet, mine are filled with sadness. In a part of my heart, I wanted this time to be different because I do love him. Quinn is the only man I’ve ever felt this way for. He is my heart and soul, no matter how much I wish it were otherwise.
I stare at him, begging for him to say something, to give me anything. “I don’t need it all, I just need a piece.”
He shakes his head. “There are no pieces to give.”
My heart sinks. “I figured.”
“Not because I don’t want to trust you but because this is the part of my life I don’t think you need to be burdened with. No one should give the woman they love this kind of baggage.”
I hate that he feels that way. I wish he would say that it’s too heavy for him to carry alone. I want to shoulder it with him. “Do you think Liam or Jackson feel like that? Do you think that Ben or Mark don’t share with the women they love? Because I promise you, they do.”
His eyes close, dark lashes fall, and I know that he won’t crack.
“It doesn’t matter.”
My lips form into a thin line. “It matters to me. Please, let me be and go.”
He groans and grabs his shirt. “I’m not perfect, Ashton. I’m far fucking from it, but I’m here and I’m trying.”
“And I appreciate it, but it’s not enough to always be on the fringes of your life. I want it all, Quinn. I want a baby, a marriage, a life with a man who is willing to share it all with me.”
“I need some time!”
God this is the definition of insanity. “You’ve had years! Years! I don’t have that luxury anymore. I’m having a baby.”
“Who is the father?”
I jerk my head back. “None of your business.”
His lips purse, and I can practically feel the testosterone rolling off him. “None of my business?”
“Nope. You lost that right.”
“Tell me, Ash.”
“Why? So you can what? Beat him up?”
He clenches his hands. “I can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what?”
“I can’t imagine you with another man.”
I’m being such a bitch, but I can’t seem to care enough to stop. He has no right to show up and demand anything.
“Leave, Quinn. Just leave and save us both the heartache.”
His breathing is so heavy I can hear the effort it’s taking him to stay calm. He’s said so many times that I’m the only person who does this to him. Part of what he prides himself on is being stoic. Not many people can walk into a room where they know they could die and smile, Quinn can. When he’s with me, all that self-control goes out the door, and I love it.
I like that I’m the woman who brings him to his knees. I also like that he’s pissed off about a baby that doesn’t exist yet.
“No,” he says and steps closer. “Not until . . .”
“Not until?”
A long, slow breath exits his lips and then his eyes close. “Not ever.”
We both know that statement is not true. He’s on leave, and he’ll have to go back and then deploy again. Just like every other time before. “You say that, until the navy tells you otherwise.”
“I can’t change what I am.”
A tear falls because he still doesn’t get it. “I don’t want you to. That’s the thing. I loved you so much, and I would’ve been there if you included me, just once. You make choices without regard for me, and you don’t include me, Quinn. You don’t want me to be a part of your life, you just want me in it.”
“I’ve changed. I don’t want a life without you.” His voice is soft, but there’s an edge to it. Knowing how much emotions scare him, I know that took a lot of effort.
“You want to marry me?”
The fear flashes, but he recovers quickly. “If that’s what you want.”
I laugh once. “You can’t even say the words.”
“Marry me,” he says quickly.
“What?”
“You heard me. Marry me. Marry me right now. We’ll go to Vegas or wherever you go to get married.”
I rear back as if he’s slapped me. “Wow, Quinn, why don’t you romance me a little harder, you fucking asshole. I don’t know that any woman has ever heard such a fantastic proposal before. Nothing says love like a fight with a demand of marriage at the end.”
“What do you want, Ashton? Do you want babies? I’ll give you a hundred. Do you want your own lab? I’ll find a way to build you one!”
“That’s not the issue!” I grip my hair and scream. “You’re too late. You had every opportunity to love me, build me a lab, or give me a hundred babies, and you chose not to. You discard me every single time. You let me go because it’s too hard to hold on. So, no, I don’t want to marry you.” The tears fall from my eyes freely. I hate that I’m breaking apart in front of him, but I can’t stop it. It hurts too damn much.
“What, are you going to marry the guy who knocked you up? You’re going to run off with the first guy who does what you want? Even knowing your heart still beats for me? That your breathing accelerates when I’m close because you fucking need me. You can have your child with some guy, but you’ll always wish it was with me.”
I raise my hand back to slap him, but he grabs my wrist before I can connect. “Get out!”
He releases my hand and touches my cheek with tenderness. “No, fragolina. I won’t.”
I stare at him with a steady stream of tears. “Why? Why won’t you let me be?”
“Because I love you.” His fingers slide across my lips. “You can hit me. You can tell me to leave. You can scream or claw my eyes out or anything else you want, but I’m not leaving you. I’ve done enough of that. You love me, Ashton, all the asshole parts and the ones that make you crazy because you and I are right for each other.”
“Look, you might be some badass navy SEAL who can read people and whatever, but you do a shit job of reading me, and you need to leave before we both say something we’ll both regret.”
He brings his fingers down my neck. The rough tips trace the slope of my shoulders, making their way lower against my arm to my hand so he can interlace them with mine. “I can read you better than I can read myself. I see you when I close my eyes. I feel you even when I do everything I can not to. Your perfume is fucking embedded in my nose so there’s no escaping you.”
My heart is racing as his touch and scent surround me. Quinn’s lips inch nearer, his blue eyes grow darker the closer he gets. “Don’t kiss me.”
“Don’t fight me.”
10
Ashton
I try to step back, but instead of pushing off him, the fingers of my free hand wrap around the back of his neck. “I hate you,” I say the words without any conviction.
“You love me, and I fucking love you. Kiss me, Ashton.”
His hands tangle in my hair, holding me right where he wants me. “No.”
“Why not, fragolina? What’s wrong?”
This. Him. The fact that we’re doing this. I should be ignoring him, not all worked up and unable to stay away from him.
“You,” I say with the anger that’s building. “You being here is what’s wrong.”
Now
I’m beyond pissed. This isn’t fair. He is making all of this a problem. When he was in the desert, I was just fucking fine. If he were in Virginia Beach, like he’s supposed to be, I would be okay. I could go about my damn day, have my baby, and not think about him. But, no, he won’t let that happen.
“Good.”
“Good?”
Quinn’s lips brush against my ear. “When you’re angry, you’re honest, so be pissed off and tell me why you’re upset?” Then he takes the lobe in his teeth, and I would fall if his arms weren’t holding me up. “Is it because you want me? Is it because you still love me, and now that I’m here . . . you can have me?”
“It’s because you’re a bastard.”
He softly chuckles. “That’s true, but I’m the man who is standing here.”
“For how long?”
That’s the million-dollar question. He says he’s here, but he’s been here before, and I’m well aware of how that turned out.
“Until you’re either coming with me or I’ve lost you completely. But, either way, you’re in for the fight of your life because I’m not running off.”
I want to fight. Every part of me wants to reject him, but I can’t. I won’t deny him again or tell him to get out. So, I crash my lips to his in a searing kiss.
It’s as though time stops the moment we touch. I hold his head to mine, pressing my body to his as though he was a tree and I was the vine. Quinn pulls me tighter as we both drown in one another.
Our tongues move in tandem, teeth gently biting at the other’s lips as we fight for and against for dominance. I can’t draw air in fast enough, but it’s okay because he’s keeping me alive. His fingers tangle in my hair, tightening just enough for me to feel pressure and his need.
There’s so much being spoken in this kiss, but I can’t think clearly enough to process it. All I know is that I’ve missed him. So many nights I’ve lain awake, wondering about him, thinking of how I wished we could be different.
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