by Tara Sivec
CHAPTER 25
Quinn
“That’s not good enough for me.”
Three goddamn seconds.
That’s all it took for me to fuck everything up last night, just like Tyler—that piece of shit—told me I would at the charity event a month ago. He lied to my face about everything else, but he sure as shit knew what he was talking about when he said those words to me, didn’t he?
Three fucking seconds of doubt, letting all my past insecurities and Tyler’s bullshit flash through my mind and show all over my face, before I realized I was being an idiot and Emily would never do something so cold and callous.
And then I was just pissed.
Pissed Tyler had screwed us over, pissed that Ellen Westwood was a vindictive bitch, pissed that once again Emily’s name was being dragged through the mud all over social media, and pissed that she was offered the job of her dreams and didn’t even get the chance to tell me herself. I was so fucking proud of her, and so angry that her moment was ruined. I made her stop talking about it, because it felt wrong doing it in front of everyone, especially that narcissistic asshole Tyler. That kind of news is something that should have been celebrated, and screamed about, and rejoiced over with nakedness and orgasms. I didn’t want to hear one more word out of that beautiful mouth of hers until she could say it happily and without the cloud of doom Tyler had brought into the restaurant, ruining everything with his greed.
After everything that happened last night, if I could go back in time, those three seconds of doubt after Tyler was dragged from the room are the only things I’d change, and the fact that she saw it, and she knew. She knew that for those couple of seconds in time, I didn’t believe in her. I asked Emily to trust me. I fucking begged her to trust me, and at the first sign of trouble, all I could think about was every other woman who used me to get something she wanted, instead of the smart, beautiful, intelligent, light of my goddamn life that stood right in front of me.
“You look like shit.”
Lifting my head from my hands, with my elbows resting on my bent knees, I lean my back against the siding of the Sandbar Cottages rental office, where I’ve been sitting on the floor of the front porch since before the sun came up.
“Thanks. I feel like shit too,” I reply to Wren as I push myself up from the floor, brushing sand off the seat of my pants that’s been tracked up onto the porch from people’s feet, including mine, when I trudged up here in the dark a few hours ago.
Pulling a set of keys out of her back pocket, Wren unlocks the office door, glancing back at me with a shake of her head. Taking pity on me, she lets out a huge sigh, pushing open the door and leaving it open for me to follow. Walking inside, I gently close it behind me as she flips a switch on the wall, filling the room with light.
“Did you sleep out there all night?” Wren questions over her shoulder as she moves around behind the check-in counter.
I pause a few steps into the room, jerkily running one of my hands through my hair, wanting to yank it out by the roots.
“Does it look like I got any sleep?” Cursing under my breath, I quickly give Wren a contrite smile. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. And no, to answer your question. I was on Emily’s porch until five. Since she never came home, I was hoping I’d catch her here at work.”
The fact that she didn’t come home last night, and I don’t even know if she came back to the island, that she slept somewhere else because of me—and no one would fucking tell me where she was, so I could see with my own two eyes that she was okay—drove me insane. It would have made it impossible for me to get any sleep, even if I were in my cottage, in a comfortable bed.
Wren sighs again as she powers on the computer. That she’s opening for Emily this morning is not making me feel any better.
“Yes, you are mad at me, because I won’t tell you where she is.”
After I got finished dealing with all the bullshit that comes with my job, I walked back into the restaurant to find Emily gone. I had to reassure Jeanie that I would handle everything when the only two words she said to me on Marcus’s phone before she hung up were “Fix this,” I needed to have a lengthy discussion with my PR team, and then another one with my business manager to make sure Tyler’s access to everything that has to do with me was immediately revoked, and put him on the hunt for a new agent as soon as possible. Twenty minutes of bullshit, when I should have been making sure Emily was okay.
No one knew where she went when I came back inside, and no one even saw her leave. My phone calls to her went right to voicemail, and every phone call and text I made to her friends all came with the reply that she was safe and that’s all I needed to know. It didn’t hit me until that exact moment, as I stood there in the middle of the private back room of The Varsity Club with my phone in my hands, just how much I’d fucked up.
And just how deserving Emily was at winning every hand of cards we played the night we met. The smile she gave me when she told me to go ahead and take care of Jeanie was clearly a better poker face than mine when I spent three seconds doubting everything she meant to me.
“You telling me she’s safe isn’t good enough for me, and you know it,” I remind Wren, trying and failing to keep the bite out of my words.
I won’t be able to calm down until I see her face again, say something annoying to make her smile again, wrap my arms around her, and hold her as close as possible, telling her I’m sorry and that everything is going to be okay.
What I should have fucking done last night, before I walked away from her and took that damn call. But I was vibrating with anger, still wanting to throw my fist into something at the unfairness of it all, and I just needed a few minutes to calm down and get my head on straight, not wanting to taint any of Emily’s light with my dark mood.
“Believe me, I know it’s not good enough. You’re so much like Palmer and Shepherd it’s almost scary.” Wren laughs softly before getting serious again. “We weren’t lying when we told you we didn’t know where she was. We still don’t, but we’re trying really hard to trust her and give her the space she needs. She just told us she didn’t feel like being at home, not to worry, and she’d be back soon.”
Pulling my hands out of my back pockets, I walk the rest of the distance to the counter, lean down, and rest my elbows on top of it.
“I fucked up,” I tell her, my voice cracking and my throat getting tight.
“Yeah, you did.” She nods, making me feel like the scum of the earth with the next words out of her mouth. “She wasn’t going to take the job, you know. And definitely not without talking to you first. The only reason she didn’t tell you right away is because she was afraid you would think exactly what you did last night. And I told her she was crazy, and I told her you would never in a million years think that. I told her you would be nothing but supportive if she took that job.”
“It was just a couple of seconds,” I whisper brokenly, hating the pathetic, flimsy excuse as soon as it comes out of my mouth.
“It was a couple of seconds too long!” Wren snaps, quickly softening her voice, because that’s how Wren is. She will cut you off at the knees but feel really bad about doing it. “Do you know what she said to me, after I told her how crazy she was?”
Wren pauses just long enough for the pain of those three fucking seconds to stab into me all over again, and I have to lift one hand off the counter to dig the heel of my palm against my chest, trying to make it go away.
“She said, ‘Quinn’s the dream, Wren. I already have everything I need.’”
And just like that, my head is in my hands on the counter, and I’m trying really hard not to cry like a fucking baby.
“I’m such an asshole,” I mutter, gripping my hair in my fists as I stare down at the top of the counter. “I never should have walked away from her to take that call from Jeanie. I should have grabbed her hand and dragged her over to the table with me, held onto her and never let her go until I was finished, so we could talk. I ju
st wanted to take care of all the nonsense first, as fast as possible. Keep it as far away from her as I could, so we could just forget about it, and I could tell her how fucking proud I was of her once everything calmed down.”
“But you didn’t,” Wren reminds me quietly, her words packing a punch, even though she doesn’t scream them at me like she should. “You looked her right in the eyes, and you doubted her. It doesn’t matter if it was three seconds, or three hours. She saw it, and she felt it. And now you have to go find our girl and fix this. Because she has spent the last twelve hours thinking she’s the worst thing that could have ever happened to you and hating herself for it. She doesn’t care that she’s being trashed left and right on social media. She doesn’t care how much pain she’s in. She only cares about what this has done to you and your career. And that’s not good enough for me, and you know it.”
When she throws my words back at me from just a few minutes ago, combined with everything else she threw at me, it’s almost too much to handle, and I can’t stop one of my fists from letting go of the tight grip on my hair to slam down on top of the counter, cursing at myself as the cup of pens next to me rattles.
The multiple concussions, the broken ankle in college, the countless number of brain-rattling hits from 250-pound linebackers, and not even Tyler’s betrayal compares to the pain I feel right now, knowing I hurt Emily. Knowing I let her down and just walked away from her when she was hurting, leaving her alone in a roomful of virtual strangers, while she was being ripped apart by strangers all over the world, to deal with my bullshit instead of taking care of her.
So this is what it’s like being in love. Feeling completely destroyed when you let the other person down. Awesome. Really wish I would have done this sooner.
“Doesn’t anyone answer their phones around here?”
Finally lifting my head to look back over my shoulder, I find Bodhi has flung open the office door and is standing in the doorway.
“Dude, you look like shit,” he mutters, looking me over from my head to my feet before glancing at Wren, waving his cell in the air. “Phones… you guys still use them, or what? Tess and I have been calling both of you.”
“I must have left mine out in the golf cart,” Wren mutters, when I push away from the counter to stand back up and feel around in the pockets of my jeans, realizing I must have left my phone back out on the front porch. “What the hell did you do to your wrist?”
Bodhi looks down at the hand his cell phone is in when Wren points at it. It’s currently wrapped in a tan bandage, and he chuckles as he drops his arm.
“Saw a video online of a dude roof-surfing with a skateboard. Thought I’d give it a try but skated clean off the damn roof and sprained my wrist.” He chuckles again. “Anyhoo, Tess found Emily.”
“Maybe you could have led with that?” I shout, already running toward the door. “Where the hell is she?”
“On her way to the stadium.”
My feet stutter to a stop in the open doorway after flying past Bodhi, hope flaring in my chest that Emily is looking for me and I didn’t screw all this up.
“You definitely need to hurry,” Bodhi continues as I start digging in my back pocket for the keys to my golf cart. “She’s going to meet with Jeanie to officially turn down the job.”
My heart plummets right into my feet, not even giving two shits that Emily isn’t currently on her way to find me. The idea that she wouldn’t take this job is just the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, and I really thought I would have time to tell her that as soon as I fucking found her. She’s worked her entire life for this, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to let her throw it all away.
“You better fix this!” Wren shouts after me as I race out the door, scooping up my phone as I go, not even bothering with the four stairs as I jump off the porch and onto the sidewalk.
“I plan on it, sweetheart!” I shout back, scrambling into my golf cart, when Wren and Bodhi come out onto the porch.
“Don’t call me sweetheart, you asshole! Your charm is no good here right now.”
Giving Wren an imploring look as I fire up the cart, she throws her hands up in the air and shakes her head at me.
“I’m sorry; you’re not really an asshole. Get the hell out of here and fix this!”
“Good luck!” Bodhi shouts to me as I start backing out of the driveway. “And if my wife happens to call you, maybe don’t tell her about the roof-surfing. I’ll just tell her I was chilling up there and someone pushed me.”
CHAPTER 26
Emily
“I dare you.”
Is this football, or a romance novel?
Bagley won’t be able to pull the Sharks from the ashes if he’s too busy putting out the flames in his relationship.
A hot piece of ass is not worth all this drama. Stick to football, Quinn, and stay away from the crazy chicks!
Another egotistical quarterback thinking with his dick instead of his head.
Like this post if you’re sick of hearing about Quinn Bagley’s love life!
I bet Jeanie Bidwell is really wishing she wouldn’t have spent all that money on Bagley right about now.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I try not to think about everything I read on the internet last night when I couldn’t sleep, but it’s impossible. It was fine when they were just trashing me, but now they’ve brought Quinn into it, and I feel sick to my stomach. This feeling of helplessness and panic hasn’t left me, ever since I was hugging my knees to my chest on the couch in my hotel room, too much of a coward to call Quinn. Instead, I scrolled through social media, each post and comment stabbing into my heart, filling me with so much guilt I thought it would choke me.
I didn’t go back to the island, because for the first time in my life, it didn’t feel like home. All I could think about was every memory I’ve made there with Quinn. The idea of taking the ferry back there without him, going back to my cottage without him, and curling up under my covers that smell like him, and him not being there after he spent the night prior with me suddenly made it hard for me to breathe. I hailed the first taxi that drove by The Varsity Club and had the driver take me to the first hotel I could afford, just so my friends wouldn’t bombard me with their questions and worry. They did it anyway over the phone, but it was easier to handle that way, rather than having to see the pity for me on their faces.
“Jesus, I look like death.”
My raspy voice even sounds like death as I open my eyes and stare at my reflection on the back of the elevator doors as it slowly moves me up to the fifth floor of the building attached to the stadium, where Jeanie’s office is located. I called her from my hotel room to see if she would meet with me, not expecting her to tell me to come to the stadium in an hour. Her short, clipped voice did absolutely nothing to calm my anxiety. The fact that I’m still wearing the same clothes as last night, yanked out my ponytail and finger-combing my long red locks as best as I could, and used the hotel’s complimentary soap and toothpaste to freshen up, with a visitor’s badge around my neck and puffy, blood-shot eyes from crying for twelve hours straight, does nothing to calm it either.
Why didn’t I just tell him about the job as soon as I got the email?
I drop my head and close my eyes again when the elevator pauses on the third floor, since looking at myself still dressed in Quinn’s jersey just makes them sting with more tears. I squeeze them closed harder and try to find the strong, independent woman I know I am, but she’s not there. I try to dig down deep for some anger I know I should be feeling, but it’s nowhere to be found either. I wouldn’t even have the energy to pull it out and use it, even if I did find it.
I hate myself for being so weak and pathetic, and for letting a man make me feel this way. I’ve rolled my eyes at women who let themselves get so consumed by a man. I’ve laughed at TV shows and movies depicting the same thing, knowing I would never be the type of person to fall apart over one guy. I never have before.
The proble
m is, he’s not just any guy. He’s a good man, the best man, and he’s sweet, and he’s kind, and he doesn’t deserve all this chaos that’s surrounded him ever since I fell into his life. How in the hell can I possibly be mad at him? All of this stems from the fact that I told him I trusted him, but I didn’t back up my words. I kept something from him, because I was still afraid, and he has every right to be mad and think the worst of me after being blindsided like that in front of everyone.
I have no one to blame but myself for this pain in my chest that won’t go away. Not even Ellen or Tyler. If I would have been honest with Quinn the second I got that email, he never would have looked at me the way he did. Like I just killed Crouton and laughed in his face about it. Now, he’ll never trust me, and now he has to deal with a bunch of bullshit and chaos he doesn’t deserve. Because of me, he lost his agent and his best friend. Because of me, the fans are more focused on this unnecessary drama, instead of on how much work Quinn has put in with the team, at the gym, in training, meeting with the coaches daily, and with OTAs.
Not only do I have to apologize to Jeanie for deceiving her, and for her offering me the job under false pretenses. I have to apologize to her for the turmoil this has brought to her team, and the extra work it’s put on her plate, right when she’s worked so hard bringing the Sharks back to glory. Right when she took on Ellen Westwood for me, and I should be meeting with her to kiss the ground she walks on. Not groveling at her feet, hoping she doesn’t sue me for the time she lost having to deal with all this and for the bad press it brought to the Sharks.
I hear the elevator ding, and the doors open on the fifth floor. I slowly open my eyes and stare down at my feet with a deep sigh as I quickly step out into the corridor, wishing I was meeting with Jeanie under different circumstances. Wishing I wasn’t wearing last night’s clothes, and looking like complete garbage, and wishing I was meeting with her without pretending for once. The last two times, I was pretending to be in a relationship with Quinn. Now I have to pretend that I’m okay.
