by Aly Martinez
“Stop,” I whispered, scooting closer and moving our joined hands to my lap.
He kissed my forehead. “I was a kid. I couldn’t stop. Anyway, watching people got me thinking about you. I was positive that you hated me. But I started wondering what you were doing. Had you grown up? What did you look like? Were you still scared of the silence?” He lowered his voice and whispered, “Did you miss me like I missed you?”
My stomach had already been in knots, and my heart was breaking, but it wasn’t until he tipped my head back and stared deep into my eyes that I felt the true pain.
“Every. Single. Day,” he whispered my confession reverently. “That was the only answer I truly needed.”
His lips pressed against mine, and his thumb traced my jawline.
I melted against him. Anxiety and guilt were temporarily banished from my thoughts.
Opening my mouth, I silently requested more of a connection. His tongue obliged my plea and glided against mine. Much to my dismay, he kept it short.
I was still drunk from his kiss when he said, “That was when I got an idea. I decided to buy a bus ticket to come see you.” He tucked a stray hair behind my ear and squeezed me with the hand I was clinging to. “I marched into that office, slammed my wallet down on the counter, and demanded a ticket to Chicago.”
I blinked up at him expectantly. I knew how this story ended. I’d lived it. He’d never made it to Chicago, but my heart raced with anticipation as if, this time, the story could somehow be different. As if Quarry could magically travel back in time, show up at my door when I was fifteen, and sweep me off my feet exactly the way I’d dreamed of at least a million times.
We could have still been sitting right there years later.
But this time.
It wouldn’t be wrong.
It wouldn’t be weird.
There wouldn’t be guilt.
There wouldn’t be pain.
But, if that were the case, there also wouldn’t have been Mia.
That was the kind of friend I was. I had gotten so lost in a fantasy where I got the boy that I’d just written her out of my life altogether.
My heart sank all over again.
Quarry must have felt my body tense, because he released my hand and scooped me into his lap, cradling me like a lost and confused little girl.
Maybe he could travel back in time after all.
“The next bus wasn’t until the following afternoon, and I was five dollars short,” he told the top of my head. “It was just a silly idea. I wasn’t even sure what I would have done when I got there, but it crushed me when I couldn’t make it happen. I hadn’t seen you in three years, but every second after I walked out of that bus station felt like an eternity, and each one broke me a little more. And I’ll be honest, Liv. There wasn’t a whole lot left of me to break at that point. I’d been trudging along for the sake of everyone around me for years, but it was all a lie. And, in that moment, completely alone at a bus station with memories haunting me with every step, I gave up the fight and called Till. I sobbed like a little bitch when he showed up to get me. Sitting in the cab of this truck, I lost my ever-loving mind, pouring out my heart and soul like I was on death row.”
I curled into his chest, offering him comfort when, in reality, I was taking it for myself. The idea of Quarry breaking broke me too.
He continued. “I think Till got his first real glance of how bad off I was. I started counseling the next day. A month later Till moved me to a private school for the hearing impaired. My first day there, I met Mia. And, nine months later, you came back to me. My life went from completely empty to overflowing in a matter of months. I didn’t even know how to handle it. But I was determined to hold on to it.”
I buried my face in his neck and cursed the gods of bus schedules and five-dollar bills.
And, while I was at it, I threw in closets, silence, and brain tumors too.
His voice became raspy and low. “We aren’t wrong.”
I looked up at him. “Huh?”
“Last night, you said we were wrong. That’s bullshit and you know it.”
I sighed. “She was my best friend. You are my best friend. There are some lines you just shouldn’t cross.”
He groaned and shook his head. “I seriously don’t get you. What do you want me to do? Spend the rest of my life alone because Mia died?”
“Of course not! She never would have wanted that.”
A loud laugh escaped his throat. “But, somehow, we’re wrong?”
I clamped my mouth shut.
“Right,” he scoffed, moving me off his lap. He stood off the tailgate and intertwined his fingers, resting them the top of his head. “This is ridiculous, Liv. Why is this about her? She has not one damn thing to do with our relationship.”
My head snapped back. Was he insane? She had everything to do with our relationship.
“She was your girlfriend!” I snapped.
“And I loved her! Don’t punish me for that!”
“I’m not punishing you for anything. I’m simply stating the facts to explain why this is absolutely wrong.” I bit my lip, instantly regretting my choice of words.
A stifling rage began radiating off his strong shoulders. He was beyond pissed. His hands clenched at his sides as he paced back and forth from hood to bumper.
Knowing exactly what would follow, I jumped to my feet when he stilled. Then I rushed in front of him and protectively leaned against Till’s beater truck as it if were the crown jewels Quarry was about to destroy with his fist.
“Don’t you dare!” I seethed. “You break your hand again, Davenport wins. Calm the fuck down.”
His jaw ticked as he held my glare. His chest was puffed, filled with breath, but he wasn’t breathing. Thankfully, that was a good sign. It meant he was reigning himself in. With the exhale, his temper would fade—or so I thought.
“We are not wrong!” he roared.
I startled at the sudden outburst, but his body closed in on me, flattening me against the side of the truck. He bent down and took my mouth in a punishing kiss. As always, my arms instantly folded around him. His hand dropped to my thigh and lifted it to his hip, leaving me balanced on one heel.
“Tell me this feels wrong,” he ordered, fisting a hand into the back of my hair then slamming his mouth back over mine.
My lips ached under the force of his, but my tongue greedily swirled in his mouth.
“Tell me,” he gritted out.
I turned my head to answer, but he sucked hard on my neck before biting it. The pain seared through me only to transform into ecstasy as he rolled his cock against my core. A strangled cry tore from my throat.
“Tell me this doesn’t feel like everything you’ve ever wanted. Because that’s exactly how it fucking feels to me.”
“Quarry,” I breathed—my only objection before I thrust my hips forward to find friction.
His mouth continued to assault me, breaking from my skin only long enough to growl, “Tell me you don’t want me.” Bite. “Don’t love me.” He soothed the spot with a lave of his tongue. “Tell me this doesn’t feel like the rest of your life and I’ll fucking let it go right now.” Rake of his teeth. “Tell me, Liv.” His hands moved to my breasts, kneading before plucking my peaked nipples over the fabric of my dress.
I was about to mount him in the middle of a parking lot, and I cared not one single bit.
I couldn’t tell him any of those things.
There was no doubt that I wanted him.
Even when I’d tried not to, I’d always loved him.
It felt exactly like the rest of my life with him.
I couldn’t even stop my mind from firing off the random images of diamond rings, white dresses, hazel-eyed babies, my name on his tongue in climax, whispered I-love-yous before falling asleep in his arms. Forever.
And, for that reason alone, I said, “We’re not wrong.”
His mouth moved to my ear, his breath sending chills down my spine
as he spoke. “I refuse to let you fight me on this. I refuse to deny the way I feel about you. And I absolutely refuse to let you deny what you feel for me. You want this. I get that you’re scared, but trust me. I will make this work for us.”
“Trust me.”
Right.
Even with that thought ricocheting through my mind, my only response was a nod.
“We deserve to be happy, Rocky. And I’m sorry if you have issues with this, but I dare you to tell me that Mia would have wanted us to be miserable and apart rather than happy and together.”
“I don’t know what she would have wanted,” I mumbled.
He froze. “Then you’re lying to yourself. There is nothing in this world, including dying alone, that she wouldn’t have done to see us happy.”
That’s when I froze.
“She did that, Liv. And I was mad at her for a lot of years because of it. But the truth is she didn’t just want to live the rest her days happy. She wanted us to live the rest of ours happy too.”
I swallowed around the emotion lodged in my throat. He was right. Deep down, I knew he was.
Still, it felt impossible to accept.
Dropping my forehead to his chest, I asked, “How are you the rational one here?”
“Because it’s you.”
I sighed. I knew that half of the reason I’d ended up being Quarry’s assistant was because I was the only one who could handle him. Over the last few years, I’d been able to talk him down, no matter how out of hand he got. Up until that moment, I’d always assumed I was just good at crisis management, but I was suddenly realizing that it had nothing to do with me at all—and everything to do with us.
“Did you love me first?” I asked for no other reason than I was curious as hell.
He chuckled. “I was thirteen when you took off. Love back then consisted of who had bigger boobs and was willing to let me touch them.” He grazed his hand up the side of my breast.
I slapped his chest, causing him to laugh, but he soon turned serious again.
“But, if you’re asking if, even as a kid, I felt an undeniable connection with you that I would never be able to explain, but I still recognized with every cell in my body, every breath in my lungs, and every beat of my heart that I needed to hold on to it no matter the consequences? Then my answer would have to be…” He paused and nuzzled his cheek against mine before whispering, “Every. Single. Day.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Liv
“EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.”
Whether he’d loved me or not, I didn’t know. But Quarry Page had returned the only three words that could trump any declaration of love he ever had to offer. The war raging within me had come to a stalemate, leaving me to make a decision based solely on the hazel eyes I’d never been able to get over. I was officially going to give in to my innermost desires and, in turn, give Quarry his too. I didn’t know how anything was going to work between us. But, with three simple words, I vanquished the guilt and filled my heart with hopes of the future I’d wanted since I was a little girl.
Wrong or right, I’d wanted him for forever.
Wrong or right, I was finally going to follow through.
My head was a jumbled mess, my emotions had been put through the wringer, and my body was on the verge of spontaneous combustion, but one thing had become abundantly clear.
“Stop freaking out. We’re doing this,” Quarry stated.
My eyes were clamped shut as I signed, “It appears we are.”
“Jesus. Don’t look so excited.”
“It’s weird!” I whined.
“Was it weird when you were coming on my cock last night?” he asked in a deep voice, skating the fine line between frustration and hilarity.
“It is now!” I replied, skating an equally fine line between joining a convent and dropping to my knees in front of him.
“Well, was it weird when I was finger-fucking you not even ten minutes ago?”
No. That had been the furthest thing from weird. The man was incredible with his hands.
I decided not to inflate his ego and lied. “A little.”
Water suddenly doused my face, causing my eyes to pop open in surprise.
“Stop!” I yelled, doing my best to keep my gaze aimed at his chin or higher.
His laughter was infectious, so as much as I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, I started laughing too. Unfortunately, this act gave my mind a chance to forget the whole chin-up thing, and my eyes took the opportunity to drop to Quarry’s hand gliding over the defined ridges on his stomach.
And they didn’t stop there. They continued down until they landed on Quarry’s long, hard dick jutting out in front of him.
Did I forget to mention that Quarry was naked?
And hard? So damn long and thick.
And in the shower, waiting for me to join him?
It.
Was.
Agonizing.
After I’d finally given in and agreed to give a relationship a shot, we’d quickly packed up and left the bus station.
However, Quarry hadn’t driven us home. He’d taken us to the nicest hotel Indianapolis had to offer. He’d immediately been recognized by the staff, and after he’d posed for a dozen selfies, the valet had eventually rumbled off in Till’s clunker.
When we’d arrived in the lavish suite, I’d discovered that this wasn’t just the impromptu overnight stay Quarry had made it sound like. My travel bag had been sitting on the sink beside his, and a five-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne had been chilling in a silver bucket next to the bed. Beside it had been a bottle of my favorite ten-dollar wine from the grocery store.
A random collection of snacks had been neatly organized across the long bar. Everything from elegant chocolate-covered strawberries to—my favorite—a bag of Oreos and a half-gallon of one percent milk.
On a chair in the corner, I’d spotted the pair of purple Chucks he’d bought me for my birthday. My jeans and one of my fitted “The Stone Fist” T-shirts had been draped over the arm. One of my simple everyday bra and panty sets had been sitting on top of them.
Huge bouquets of white roses had covered nearly every surface, including both nightstands, and a playlist I’d recognized as my own had been playing from a set of speakers hidden somewhere in the room.
Oh, Quarry Page had been busy.
Looping his arms around my waist from behind, he’d said, “Broke sixteen-year-old me took you on the date. Loaded twenty-four-year-old me is stepping in for the evening.”
I’d craned my head back to flash him a huge grin over my shoulder.
He’d stepped away and announced, “Let’s shower.” He then had gone to work removing his hearing aids and stripping out of his suit.
I had to admit that watching him slowly unbuttoning his shirt with his eyes glued to me had done some seriously tingly things between my legs.
Over the course of the evening, Quarry had stroked, touched, and teased me with his fingers numerous times—including on the way over here, when he’d snuck his hand under my dress while he’d been driving—but never once had it been long enough for me to find a release.
And, as I’d ogled his naked ass sauntering to the bathroom, it had almost been enough.
It hadn’t been though, and against my better judgment, I’d followed him to the bathroom, which was where I found myself standing, fighting desperately to keep from watching his hard-on bob in front of him as he washed his gorgeous body.
When he noticed my eyes aimed at his hips, he chuckled softly, drawing my attention back up. The moment we made eye contact, his mouth split into a gorgeous grin, popping that dimple that drove me wild.
“Get in the shower, Liv.”
“It’s a little intimidating,” I replied.
“Getting naked or my cock, which you can’t stop staring at?”
Definitely the latter. “Getting naked while you stand there gawking. What happened to the whole heat-of-the-moment thing?” I replied rud
ely only so I could cross my arms over my chest to hide my rock-hard nipples.
He threw his head back in laughter. When he finally sobered, his gaze was no longer filled with amusement. “Fine. You want heated and in the moment?”
“Uhhh…” I mumbled, instantly realizing my mistake as he prowled from the shower.
His tattoo-covered arms, swayed as he made his approach. His pecs flexed, and his abdominals rippled.
And, suddenly, he wasn’t the only one dripping wet.
He stopped in front of me and bent his head to capture my mouth. Water dribbled from the ends of his hair, running down my face and my neck and into my dress while he skillfully worked my mouth.
I wasn’t actually nervous, per se. I just didn’t like the idea that, the first time this perfect specimen of a man saw me naked, I was going to be awkwardly struggling out of a dress in a brightly lit hotel bathroom.
I would have preferred a dimly lit bedroom where he walked in after I was already naked and seductively lounging on the bed, strategically posed with my hair fanning out around me.
I quickly got over the lighting issues when he peeled my dress over my head.
His tongue was again tangling with mine when his large hands proved their dexterity by snapping the clasp of my bra. As my bra fell to the floor, I momentarily lost his mouth only to find it at my breasts a blink later. His shoulders were rolled forward, bowing his tall body awkwardly, but it might have been the sexist sight I had ever seen.
I’d seen Quarry without his shirt on thousands of times. Whether he was at the gym working out, in the ring during a fight, walking around our apartment, or just sitting out on our balcony while shooting the shit, Quarry was never wearing a shirt.
Striking, black tribal tattoos covered nearly every inch of his back. I’d always thought they were attractive, but never once had the sight of them caused my knees to buckle.
But, then again, never once had they been hunched over my naked body while he was devouring my breast.
“Oh, God!” I cried, gripping the back of his head for balance.
He groaned, dropping to his knees and switching his attention to my other breast. “Fucking perfect.”
