by Meghan Quinn
“Where are you going?” he asks, stepping in closer.
“I didn’t mean to wake you. I was—”
“Ditching me.” He grabs me by the hand and pulls me into his chest, my palm connecting with his defined pec. “Come back to bed. I want to fuck you again.” He presses his lips against my neck, trailing a path to my ear. “And then I want to eat breakfast with you . . . naked.”
I chuckle. “Seems like all your plans involve me being naked.”
“Putting on clothes would be a disservice to the universe. You’re too damn gorgeous to be clothed. Come on.” He pushes me toward the bedroom and starts to undo my dress from behind, his lips kissing down my back with every inch of my skin he reveals until he reaches the slope of my ass.
He presses me forward, so I bend at the waist until my hands reach the bed. “Just like that,” he mutters, slipping the rest of my dress off.
“This fucking thong again.” This time he tears it off me, rubbing my skin a little raw from the jerky movement. “Next time we go out, there will be no underwear. Do you hear me?”
“Th-there will be a next time?” I ask, feeling turned on and nervous simultaneously.
“Do you think I can fuck this pussy once and be done?” He smooths his hand over my ass before slapping it hard, eliciting a hiss from between my teeth until he slowly kisses the red spot. “No fucking way. This pussy is mine, Ryan. Expect many nights with me.”
Many nights.
Many nights where I won’t be alone.
Many nights where I’ll be fucked senseless.
Many nights where I won’t be available to hang out with Colby.
Many nights where I’ll be too mindless to wonder what Colby is doing, if he and Sage are together . . . if he’s thinking about me.
No. He’s engaged. He won’t be thinking about me at all. He’ll be too far away to care.
Many nights with Donovan. I can get on board with that, especially when he helps me escape, just like now with his head between my legs, ready to pleasure me from underneath. Yes, I can definitely get on board with this.
Chapter Seven
COLBY
What would you do if your best friend went out with a guy you didn’t know, didn’t text you back the night before, and was supposed to have lunch with your fiancée?
Invite yourself without them knowing?
That’s why I’m marching toward the table I just watched them sit at, flight-suit clad, sleeves rolled up. Before I intrude, I take Ryan in. She looks . . . normal. Nothing out of the ordinary that I can see from here. Sage is wearing her typical slacks with a tidy blouse and heels. Very professional. Whereas, Ryan is sporting cut-off shorts, and an off-the-shoulder shirt that reveals her black bra underneath. Her hair a mess on top of her head, and huge black sunglasses cover her eyes.
The only thing similar between the two is their blonde hair and even at that, Sage’s is much more on the whiter side whereas Ryan has some dirty-blonde streaks weaved in.
They couldn’t be more opposite. Sage is quiet and reserved, and Ryan is outlandish and up for anything. Looking at them together, cataloguing their appearances alone, there is such a stark contrast between the two.
I stride toward them, both unaware that I’m crashing their lunch. Just as I step up close, I can hear Sage say, “So how was your date last night?”
“Yeah, how was your date?” I add.
Startled, they both turn their attention on me.
“Colby, what are you doing here?” Sage stands and places a soft kiss on my cheek, but I keep my eyes trained on Ryan who’s slouching in her seat, popping a piece of gum and shielding herself behind her sunglasses, a slight smirk on her face.
“Wanted to hear about this new guy, and since Ryan is best at ignoring me these days, figured I would surprise you.”
“I don’t ignore you. I just keep you waiting.” She adjusts her sunglasses, bringing my attention to her face, her neck, and then to her shoulder where there are a few bruises.
What the ever-living fuck?
Letting go of Sage, I lift Ryan’s chin with my fingers and take in her neck and shoulders. “What the fuck happened to you? Did he do this?”
“Do what?” she asks, pushing me away.
“You have bruises all over you.”
Sage giggles next to me, placing her hand on my arm. “Colby, those are hickies.”
The mention of hickies immediately takes me back to the one night I had with Ryan—our no-strings-attached night—where I marked her myself, not giving two fucks if she had to cover it up the next day. I took pride in claiming my territory, at least for that night.
Unexpected anger takes over as I realize another man has marked her, a man I don’t know, a man I already loathe.
“Did you have sex with him last night?”
“Way to just jump to the good stuff. Come on, Colby, let her warm up first.” Sage tugs on my hand, forcing me to sit. She links my hand with hers, but I’m too fucking jittery to hold on for very long.
“Is he hot?”
Casually, Ryan brings one of her legs to her chest, propping her foot on the large seat. She folds her arms over her knee and leans forward, acting as if everything is hunky-fucking-dory, when there is a war raging inside me.
“He’s really hot. Poised, a restaurateur with an apt ability to make everything taste good. We feasted on one of the best meals I’ve ever had, and then we went to his place.” She shrugs. “It was a good night.”
“Eeep, sounds so romantic,” Sage gushes.
“Where was his place?” I counter, ignoring the excitement in my fiancée’s voice.
“Just below the restaurant.”
“He took you to his fuck pad?” I seethe, growing angrier by the minute.
“Colby, don’t be so vulgar,” Sage says. I can hear how irritated she is with me, but I don’t give a fuck. He took her to his fuck pad. She let him take her to his fuck pad.
Ryan takes a sip of her water. “It’s okay, Sage. It totally was a fuck pad, which was fine with me, because it’s been a really long time since I’ve had sex.” She glances in my direction, and I swear to God if she wasn’t wearing glasses, I would be able to exchange thoughts between us.
The last time she had sex was with me.
She lets that hang in the air, dangling between us, reminding me of that night, how great she felt in my arms—how vulnerable she was—but also open to doing whatever the hell I wanted. And that next morning when I left, we parted as friends. She made it easy, almost too damn easy.
“Was he good?” Sage asks, looking shy now.
A small curve hits Ryan’s lips before she nods. “Oh yeah, he was good.”
And that right there sends a bursting flame of anger right out the top of my head. I should not care, I really shouldn’t, but I’m starting to lose my shit.
I marked her with my mouth.
I was the one there for her. Who fucked her when she needed it.
I’m the one who cares about her, not this stranger who came out of fucking nowhere.
Ryan and Sage start talking about something, short business pants on men, I don’t fucking know, but I can’t concentrate, not when my face is burning up, my chest rising and falling a mile a minute, and my hands are clenching into tight fists.
“Ugh, will you excuse me? I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Sure. Want me to order that chicken salad sandwich for you if the waitress ever comes to take our order?” Ryan asks.
“That would be great.” Sage takes off, and she isn’t even ten feet away before I shoot daggers in Ryan’s direction.
“Why the hell did you fuck that guy last night?”
Sitting back, a little stunned, Ryan asks, “Excuse me?”
The need to punch something is strong. “Why would you sleep with him? I thought you were looking for someone special, someone who cares about you, building a relationship. You can’t fuck someone on the first night, Ryan.”
“Funny”�
��she shifts in her seat—“I didn’t ask for your opinion on who I fuck or don’t fuck, Colby.”
“Maybe you should have, then you wouldn’t have fucked this guy, ensuring he loses all respect for you.”
Her mouth falls open, and her feet hit the ground. “You know nothing about him.”
“Do you?” I counter. “Because how much could you learn about someone over dinner?”
“Enough to know I wanted his dick inside of me.” Sparks of anger fly off her, venom from her lips with every word. “Thankfully, he erased the last guy who was inside of me.” In case she thinks I forgot, she adds, “That was you.”
My teeth grind together; my mind whirls. “So you’re trying to get back at me? Is that what this is? For what? For taking care of you? For being there for you? For trying to help you find the right path?”
“I don’t need your help, Colby. I’ve been perfectly fine on my own. I’m so sick of you hovering over me like a fucking helicopter mom. Newsflash. I’m a big girl and can take care of myself.”
“Not when you fall off the face of the earth, lose weight, and fuck some guy who’s the last person on earth you should be seeing right now.”
“You don’t know that. You can’t make that assessment. You weren’t there last night.”
“Okay, what’s his last name?” She draws a blank. “Exactly my point. You’re going to get hurt again, and I’m going to have to pick up the pieces.”
“Well, I’m sorry it’s been such a hardship for you, being my fucking friend.”
“It’s not a hardship.” I drag my hand over my face. “I just don’t see when you’re going to grow up.”
She pauses, her face registering in shock. “When I’m going to grow up?” She’s fuming, and I can tell she’s not going to hold back whatever she thinks she needs to say. “You know, Colby, you’re not the only one with a shitty childhood, with a fucked-up parent; you’re not the only one who suffered. I had to grow up early, really early. So don’t fucking ask me when I’m going to grow up. Want to talk about not knowing anything about someone? Try learning how to talk to your best friend again, because this is not the way to do it.”
“Ryan—”
“You can go to hell, Colby.” She shakes her head and stands. “I’m trying to do something with my life, and if that means I have a fantastic one-night stand with a man who made me come multiple times in one night, so be it. That’s my choice. Not yours.”
“You’re going to get hurt.”
“Too late,” she snaps back. “You already did that.”
She snags her purse and tosses it over her shoulder. “Tell Sage I’m sorry I had to leave. I can’t be around her fiancé right now.”
“Ryan, don’t fucking leave.”
“Screw you, Colby.” And with that, she takes off toward the parking lot.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
How did that go so fucking bad? She’s being ridiculous. Careless. Why is she doing this? Why won’t she talk to me?
Why is she making this so goddamn difficult?
Colby: Can you please call me?
Colby: Ryan, I’m sorry. Please just fucking call me.
Colby: I overreacted and was a fucking idiot. I see that. Can you please call me so we can talk about this?
Colby: Ryan, please.
Two weeks and nothing.
No texts backs.
No returned phone calls.
And when I visited her at her place, she wasn’t there.
I leave for my TDY in two days, and I want to patch things up before I have to take off. It’s why I’m sitting through her variety show again with backstage access, thanks to Leah. I know the last ten minutes of the show is pretty slow for Ryan—it’s when she starts packing up—so I take that moment to make my way backstage before things get crazy with the end of the show.
I flash my badge to the security guard, who kindly thanks me for my service, and scan the dark, walled-in space looking for one person.
I spot her immediately by the makeup vanity, where the big bulb lights shine down on her. She’s wearing tight black jeans, black high heels, and a black shirt that dips low in the front, showing an abundance of cleavage. She looks like she’s going out tonight, and that puts a sour taste in my mouth.
Not wanting to start off my conversation sounding like a dick, I take a deep breath and try to remain calm as I head toward her. She glances in the mirror and spots me. I expect her to at least look shocked, but she doesn’t. Her face almost seems . . . lifeless, completely devoid of any emotion.
In a monotone voice, she asks, “What are you doing here, Colby?”
“Since you won’t return any of my calls or texts, I figured this was the only way to get you to talk to me.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
Not letting my anger take over, I say, “I wanted to apologize. I was out of line and never should have said the things I said.”
“It’s fine.” She packs up her brushes.
“Obviously it’s not if you won’t look at me.”
She sighs and finally turns toward me. “Colby, let’s just call it what it is, okay? This friendship wasn’t going to last long anyway. Clearly you have your opinions of me and that’s fine, but I don’t want to feel judged every time I’m around you.”
“I’m not judging you, Ryan, I’m looking out for you.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “You’re judging me. A true friend would never have said the things you said or jumped to conclusions. A true friend would have listened to me, asked about my night before chastising me for going out with someone they didn’t know.”
“I was an idiot, okay? I’m sorry.” She’s slipping away, and it’s scaring the fuck out of me. I don’t know what else to say. “Let me try again. Let’s go out, get some dessert, talk. My treat.”
“Can’t.”
“Ryan, please,” I plead, feeling desperate.
“She’s busy,” a deep voice says from behind me. His shoulder brushes against mine before stepping into Ryan’s space and wrapping his arm around her waist, placing a kiss on her lips.
He’s polished, in what I can only assume is a three-thousand-dollar suit. He’s smells like he sat in a pool of cologne before he came here, and he’s too fucking tanned, making him look like the exact douche I thought he’d be.
Fuck, this is so not the guy for Ryan. What the hell is she thinking?
“Ready, doll face?”
Doll face? What the fuck kind of nickname is that?
“Yeah.” She smiles at him. Looking over his shoulder, Ryan says, “You know your way out, right, Colby?”
Is she fucking kidding me right now? She’s not even going to say bye?
“I leave for TDY in two days.”
She pauses and turns toward me. “Good luck.”
Good luck?
What the hell?
And with that, she takes off, leaving me speechless.
And fucking hurt.
But I can’t be mad at her . . . because this is all my fault.
Chapter Eight
COLBY
I toss my keys on the counter and lean against it, my head in my hands, frustration pouring off me in waves.
Not even a fucking goodbye.
We’ve built this amazing and surprising bond—a bond I don’t think I’ve had with anyone else—and she won’t even fucking try to fix what I broke? I hurt her that badly?
Good luck. No farewell. Just good luck.
Fuck.
“Hey, there you are,” Sage says, coming into the room. She’s been staying at my place now more often than at her brother’s. It makes more sense. “I thought you were coming home after your debrief.”
“Had something to take care of,” I mutter, going to the fridge and grabbing a beer. I’ve been restocking the fridge a lot lately with beer, almost as if I need a few every fucking night to get to the next day.
Sierra Nevada.
And it makes me think of Ryan.
&
nbsp; “Well, I’m glad you’re home now. I had a few things I wanted to talk to you about.” She pulls out a notebook, the same notebook she’s been carrying around with her everywhere. I want to destroy that notebook, rip it up with my bare hands, and throw it in the fire pit. That notebook has done nothing but cause me stress and irritation.
“I’m not in the mood right now.” I brush past her and go to the couch, flipping the TV on. I need mindless shit right now, nothing that will force me to think and come up with answers.
Sitting next to me, Sage steals the remote and turns the TV off. My head falls to the back of the couch as I count to ten to tamp down my fury.
You’re angry because of what you said to Ryan, because of the major fuck-up you caused in your friendship with her. You’re not mad at Sage, so do not take it out on her.
“I know you need to de-stress after a mission and especially before your TDY, but you’re leaving, and I need to talk to you about a few things before you go.” God, her sweetness and empathy makes me feel like a giant dick. Again.
I drag my hand over my face. “I’m sorry. Go ahead. Hit me with your questions.”
“Thank you.” She smiles and leans over, pressing a kiss to my mouth.
“First things first. I booked my ticket to come see you in a month and a half. I’m flying into Denver, as it was cheaper. I hope that’s okay. I know it will be a pain to pick me up.”
“It’s fine, if I can’t make it, I’ll have Rory or Stryder get you.”
We thought since my temporary duty is in Colorado Springs, it would be a great time for Sage to come visit where I grew up and meet Stryder and Rory, who I talk about often. Plus, she wants to take a look at the venue, and it was the perfect opportunity to make that happen.
“They won’t mind?”
I shake my head. “They owe me from all the shit I did for them when it came to their wedding. So believe me, they’ll be fine with it. Plus Rory is super excited to meet you.”
