More than a Fling: A Romance Collection

by Quinn, Jillian

  Mia smiles. “That would be great. Thank you.”

  “Would you like a bottle of water, champagne, coffee, or tea?”

  “Coffee would be nice.”

  Alanna looks up at me. “I already know what you want.”

  I smirk. If it were any other day, that would be true. Today, I want nothing more than to watch Mia undress for me.

  Once we reach the large private room reserved for special customers, we take a seat on a long padded bench, Mia with a cup of coffee and me with the usual bottle of water.

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Mia says, setting her cup on the table next to her. “I feel so out of place here.”

  “Stop worrying about what people think. You have just as much a right to be here as anyone else. A woman as beautiful as you should feel comfortable anywhere she goes.”

  “People were looking at me strange like I don’t belong here. That I don’t belong with you.”

  I set the bottle in my hand on the table and scoot closer to her. Lifting her chin with my hand, I force her to look into my eyes. “No one has ever fit into my life the way you do, Mia. No one. Not a single fucking woman. Ever. You act as though you’re the only lucky one here when I’m the bastard that doesn’t deserve you.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “You’re not a bastard.”

  “No?”

  “Nope, not at all. I don’t date bastards, and I sure as hell don’t let them fuck me.” She says the last part under her breath so that no one can hear her.

  “I’m a bastard for fucking you like I do. But I couldn’t stop myself. Your pussy is too fucking sweet. I can’t control myself with you.”

  “No one said you had to. Keep fucking me like that. In fact, never stop.”

  The corner of my mouth turns up into a wicked grin. I grab my crotch and adjust my growing erection. “This conversation is making me so hard. Hurry up and try this shit on, or I will have to fuck you in this room, and I don't care who hears us.”

  Mia chuckles. I love the sound of her laughter.

  Being with her reminds of what we had when we were younger. When she trusted me with her secrets. When she looked at me as if I was her entire world. She still does. That part scares me the most because that means I have the power to hurt her. And I never want her to feel the kind of pain I have endured for the past eleven years. I never want her heart to ache from the loss of someone she loves. I know she loves me. Some part of me, even the sick and tortured parts, has always loved her.

  I get up to help Alanna when she walks into the changing room with clothes in her hands and draped over her shoulders. “I got a little bit of everything,” she says in her singsong voice. “I wasn’t sure what kind of mood you were in, Mia, but go ahead and pull out what you like. If there’s anything you need that I forgot to pull, give me a shout.”

  I lift a stack of dresses, skirts, and tops from Alanna’s shoulders and place the hangers on the metal hooks. She exits the room with a gentle wave, promising to check on us in five minutes.

  “What do you want to try on first?” I turn around to face Mia, holding up a short, sleeveless black dress with an open back. “I think this would look hot on you. My mom always said that every woman needs a little black dress. You should have one, too.”

  Mia pushes herself up from the bench and closes the distance between us. “Are you trying to turn me into the woman you want me to be?”

  “Of course not. You’re the woman I want you to be. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

  She throws her hands on her hips. “Except for my clothes.”

  “This has nothing to do with the clothes or how you dress. You could wear a pair of beat up Chuck’s with ripped jeans and a Warped Tour shirt for all I care. You would look good in anything.”

  “Then what difference does it make if I have a little black dress or a new shirt?”

  “It doesn’t. I want to take care of you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to give you everything. I was also hoping to take you somewhere nice for dinner, and it’s a black dress kind of place.”

  She snatches the dress from my hand with a cheesy grin. “Fine. I will wear the dress as long as you pick a good restaurant. Something Italian.”

  “That I can do. I thought we could go to Luciano’s. What do you say?”

  “Am I your girlfriend?”

  I suck in a deep breath and look away from her. “I’m not sure what to call us. We only had sex last night.”

  “That’s not what you told Alanna. You said girlfriend.”

  “I have to talk to Will, remember? We already talked about this.”

  “Maybe I should tell him. I could soften the blow. If I tell him that I want to be with you, he will understand.”

  I shake my head and move in front of her. “No, he will not. Will has asked me if I liked you on more than on occasion, and I denied it every time. He was pissed when I accidentally touched your knee or told you that you were hot.”

  She smiles. “You think I’m hot?”

  I smile back. “That’s another thing I like about you. You’re gorgeous, smart, and incredibly sexy and don’t even know it.”

  “So, what do we do with my brother?”

  “I have no idea. Ever since the night we kissed, I have been asking myself the same thing. I wish I knew the answer. Let’s stick to our plan and see where this takes us, okay? We don’t need to get ahead of ourselves.”

  “Either way, we are lying to him. I hate all the secrets.”

  “Will is like a brother to me. I met him not long after…” I stop myself from saying more, out of fear Mia will want to rehash my past.

  “Not long after you lost your brother,” she finishes for me.

  I narrow my eyes at her. “How did you know about Erik?”

  She frowns, staring at me as if I just asked the dumbest question in the world. “I’m a reporter. Duh, silly. Did I ever tell you why I wanted to become a journalist?”

  I shake my head. “No, never.”

  “Because of you.” She digs her pointy finger into my bicep. “All because you left me without saying goodbye. You broke my heart that day. I thought that if I could learn how to track down information that I could find you. Then, you showed up, right after I was accepted into college. I was a few months into the semester when you came waltzing back into my life as if nothing had ever happened. But you were different, much darker than the boy I talked to on the swings in my backyard. The Ethan I knew was long gone.”

  “You know about Erik, then.” Bile rises from my stomach, choking me once it reaches the back of my throat.

  She bobs her head. “Yes, but the newspapers were limited in their details. I only know that he died in a car accident. You were dreaming about him this morning.”

  It had taken me years to tell Will about my brother. Sometimes, a reporter has the nerve to ask me about Erik, and every time I shut them down. I thread my fingers between hers and guide her to the bench. She drops the dress beside her and turns her body to face me, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.

  “Yes, I have nightmares about my brother. I hate the fact that I lived and he died. I feel guilty. We were twins. Losing Erik was like slicing off a part of myself. It left me hollow. I still am. Your brother came into my life at the right time. He reminded me so much of Erik. I started to smile again, after being unable to do that for a very long time. I felt alive around Will.”

  She holds her free hand up to her mouth, and her eyes well up with tears. The pain on her face slices into my chest.

  I swipe a tear from her cheek and decide to keep going. After telling her this much about my past, she should hear the rest of the story, even though I would rather not tell it.

  “The doctors told my parents that Erik had a blood clot that traveled to his brain, causing a stroke. It was a ticking time bomb living inside his body, one no one ever knew he had. I was driving the car. I tried to help him when he began seizing and ended up hitting the gu
ardrail. It all happened so fast. I woke up in the hospital. The last time I saw my brother was when the car flipped. Almost everything after that is a blur.”

  She tightens her grip on my hand. “You were you hurt too?”

  “Yes. I had some short-term memory loss for a few months and a broken leg. I hit my head hard on the steering wheel. When the airbag broke, I cracked my thick skull on the window, and well, that’s how I got this souvenir.” I point to the scar above my left eyebrow. “This is not from a hockey game, even though I tell everyone that’s how I got it. At the time, it sounded cooler to say it was a battle scar.”

  “I understand you so much more now. Your brother is the reason Will is so important to you, why you need his approval.” Mia swallows hard and wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. “I don’t want to be the one to take him away from you. I can’t…Not after you have lost so much.”

  I silence her with my lips, the simple act causing her to still. “We will figure this out,” I promise.

  “E, I don’t want to end your friendship with Will over us dating or whatever we are doing. He would be pissed if he found out we were having sex behind his back and that this is nothing more than an experiment to see if you’re capable of something long-term.”

  Before I can respond, my cell phone rings, the obnoxious sound interrupting our conversation. I fish it out from my pocket and glance at the Caller ID. Will. Of course, it’s Will. It’s as if fate is sending me a reminder that I’m a horrible best friend and roommate.

  “Hey,” I say, holding the phone up to my ear. “Yeah, I’m here with Mia right now.”

  He asks about our shopping adventure and tells me to put it on his credit card. Alanna has the information on file. I’d prefer to buy Mia the dress for our dinner, but Will insists on doing something nice for her.

  “The association called me,” he says. “Did you hear from them?”

  “Nope, not yet. What did they say?”

  “We can move back in next Thursday. The contractors are moving faster than they had expected. Only one more week of sleeping on Mia’s sofa. You coming back to her place or what?”

  I glance over at Mia and wink. “Yeah, sure. I guess I can rough it out with you for a few more days. Unless you want to come stay at the Ritz with me.”

  “Nah, Mia can use the company. When are you guys coming back? I thought we could grab dinner down the street at the Mexican place that just opened up.”

  “Umm…okay. We should be back in the next two hours.”

  We say our goodbyes, my heart sinking into my stomach when I see the look on Mia’s face. She looks deflated.

  “We’re not going to dinner now, are we?”

  “No, but I will make it up to you this week.”

  “When Will is not around,” she adds.

  I sigh. “I didn’t want to tell him no.”

  “I’m not mad, E. I get it. Keep it casual. Friends with benefits don’t go to fancy dinners with each other. So, I guess I won’t be needing a dress.” She releases her grip on my hand and pushes herself up.

  I slide my hands up her legs, stopping at her hips. “We will find a way, okay? Tonight is a small bump in the road. Get the dress because you will need it and your brother will get suspicious if you don’t come home with a bag from Boyds.”

  “Right. Good point.” She bites her lip, the subtle gesture causing my cock to harden.

  I pull her onto my lap, planting soft kisses along her collarbone and shoulder, before making my way to her lips. She tastes like coffee and smells of her flowery perfume. Drinking in her delicious scent, I burrow my face into her neck. A chill runs through her body that causes her to tremble in my arms. I love having this effect on her. If only I could have her all to myself every day. Every night.

  “You two doing okay in there?” Alanna asks from the other side of the door.

  Define okay.

  “Yes,” I say. “We need more time. I’ll come find you if Mia needs anything.”

  “Oh, okay. Perfect. I’ll be in the women’s department if you need me.”

  The second Alanna disappears my mouth is on Mia’s, and my tongue is parting her lips. We need this time alone before we have to go back to Mia’s apartment. Before we have to face Will. If only I had the balls to come clean to him.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Mia

  As I walk into Old City Records, the door chimes, alerting Connor, who peeks his head out from the back room. He waves at me, with a bright smile on his face, and strolls down the center aisle toward me.

  “You’re early,” he says.

  I glance at my wrist to check the time. “Only by a few minutes.”

  “I was cleaning up in the storeroom. Do you mind holding down the fort for me until I finish?”

  I smile. “Go right ahead. I can handle the customers.”

  He glances around the open room, as if thinking, What customers? My thoughts exactly.

  I slip behind the glass counter and drop my purse to the shelf under the cash register. Like everything else in the store, even the register is vintage. Connor taps his fingers against his thigh, as the beat picks up and John Lennon’s voice comes through the speakers overhead. An awkward pause passes between us, where he hums the tune, staring out the window that spans the entire front of the store.

  “I love this song,” he says. “I’ve been rocking out to The Beetles all day. They help me clear my head.”

  “I can see that.” I sit on the stool behind the counter and prop my feet up on the small wooden ledge.

  Ever since I accepted this position, I thought Connor’s behavior was odd. But I have yet to prove a thing, other than the fact that I might be crazy. All of my leads ran cold before I could make any headway. Fred has been crawling up my ass about my lack of useful information. He even threatened to remove me from the case. I have to find something, even if that means stepping up my game.

  “Did you have any customers today?”

  “Yeah,” Connor says. “An older couple stopped by around lunchtime. They were looking for Abbey Road. That’s what got me in this mood. Other than that, I have had a pretty quiet day.”

  My cell phone rings with a text message, the sound cutting the tension between us. Conversations with Connor are almost painful, like pulling teeth. We have zero in common, our taste in music included. I reach for my purse and fish out my phone, smiling at the name on my screen.

  “I’ll let you take that,” Connor says. “ I have to get back to work. We can order a pizza later if you want. My treat.”

  I look up at Connor and flash a closed-mouth smile. “Sounds great. Thank you.”

  Once Connor disappears into the back of the store, I glance at the text message from Ethan.

  E: I need to see you. My dick is rock hard just thinking about your pussy. Dinner later?

  I laugh and then frown at his words, not because I don’t want to go, but because I’m stuck here for the rest of the night.

  M: I have to work until ten.

  E: I’ll pick you up.

  M: Can’t wait.

  The countdown until Ethan and Will move back into their apartment started a few days ago. My heart aches with each day that passes, with each lingering promise from Ethan. He wants to tell Will about us. I do, too. But both of us are afraid of losing him.

  I have grown accustomed to kissing Ethan before bed and eating breakfast with Will in the morning. I will miss both of them for different reasons. At least we have a few more days together.

  * * *

  Twice in over two hours, Connor stepped out from the back office. He met someone outside for ten minutes each time. Once, Connor said he was running down the street to grab a soda from the pharmacy, the other time a pizza. He came back with a duffle bag over his shoulder from his pharmacy run and a pizza in his hand the next.

  We ate a few slices together and bullshitted about vinyl records and music from the seventies, all while I tried to find out more information about his bu
siness. Same as usual, I got nothing. Connor covers his tracks well. Or at least he was doing a pretty good job of it before a dark-haired man in his late twenties strolls through the front door.

  Dressed in a black suit, fitted to his muscular frame, and a crisp white oxford, everything about this man screams money. Lots of it. He brushes a hand through his dark, wavy hair and fixes his gaze on me. I don’t miss his tongue flicking over his bottom lip, as he saunters over to the front counter.

  “You must be new,” he says, in a thick Italian accent.

  He’s no more than ten years older than me and incredibly sexy. The thin scar across his right cheek somehow intensifies his dark, masculine features.

  I give him a polite smile and nod. “I started two weeks ago. Are you looking for anything in particular?”

  He scans my face before his gaze falls to my breasts. “Is Connor here?”

  “Who should I say is here to see him?” I slide off the chair and come around to the other side of the glass case, waiting for his response.

  “An old friend.” That’s all he offers. He tilts his head to the back of the store. “Is he in his office?”

  Noting the change in my expression, he takes that as a yes. Before I can get in another word, the man darts past me. I follow behind him, begging him to wait, but he’s determined to get to Connor. Signals go off in my brain, red flags waving one after the other. All night, Connor has been acting strangely. Then, his old friend shows up unannounced. How convenient.

  Maybe tonight is my night. Every lead I’d followed had either dried up or was completely bogus. The strip club lead was a waste of time. The only thing illegal in that place was the price of drinks. That alone should have been a crime. All my stakeouts with Clarke were nothing more than snack-induced comas filled with stale coffee and girl talk. At least it gave me a reason to spend more time with Clarke outside the office. Still, it would have been nice to gain some intel or at least a solid lead.

  The man pushes open the cracked door with the tip of his shoe, revealing a surprised Connor. He looks at the man first, horror scrolling on his face, and then to me. His expression softens when he locks onto me.