Unconventional

by Isabel Love

  “Yeah, I just picked it up. Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.” A simple black polo and khakis shouldn’t look so good, but they mold to his body in all the right places.

  “I have an excellent idea.” He grins that panty-dropping smile, his dimples popping. I touch his face, tracing along his dimples with my fingers.

  “What’s that?”

  “I think we should have a quickie.” He says it in all seriousness, hands sweeping down my back to cup my ass.

  “Charlie, everyone will be here in 20 minutes!”

  “Hence the term quickie. I can make you come in five.” He isn’t lying about that.

  “And I still have to set up the bar with the appetizers and drinks.”

  “I already did.” His hands smooth down my legs and pull the fabric of my dress up and over my ass.

  “You did?”

  He nods, pushing his pelvis into me, letting me feel how hard he is already.

  “Thank you.”

  He smiles. “You’re welcome.” He kisses my nose then my lips, hands roaming all over my backside.

  I waiver, knowing I need to push him away. We are hosting a party for crying out loud. We can’t have sex right now.

  He sees me hesitate and slips his hands underneath my underwear, grabbing my ass and pulling my cheeks apart. “You don’t even have to get undressed, just let me bend you over this counter and fuck you. I’m so hard, I’ll come in two minutes.”

  “How enticing.” He moves my underwear to the side and pinches my clit, causing me to gasp.

  “Quinn.” He grabs my hand and places it on his crotch—his erection is rock hard. I squeeze it, feeling myself get wet and achy.

  “Yes,” I say on an exhale.

  “Bend over and let me fuck you.” He says this sentence slowly, enunciating every word with his deep voice, so full of desire.

  His bossy command makes my pussy clench with need.

  So, I turn away from him, meet his gaze in the mirror, and bend over, pushing my ass into his pelvis.

  His eyes glitter with need. “Good girl.”

  The party is in full swing. It’s a relatively small crowd, 30 of Monica and Max’s closest friends and family. I see Monica swaying to the music in the background as she talks to Max’s mom, a smile plastered on her face. The food is almost gone—a good sign in my book—and everyone loved Tate’s cake. Charlie, Logan, and Max are sitting at the bar in the kitchen, sipping beers and laughing about something.

  I call this a success.

  Smiling to myself, I begin to tidy up, collecting empty plastic cups and paper plates. I refill the ice bucket and put out a fresh bowl of chips.

  “Can we have everyone’s attention for a moment?” Max calls out. I turn to find Max and Monica standing side by side in front of the living room, arms wrapped around each other. Charlie comes to stand beside me, holding me into his side like he usually does. I melt into him, grateful for all of his help today. It feels like we did this as a couple.

  Everyone quiets down, giving Max their attention.

  “We’re so grateful that you’re all here to celebrate with us. I love Monica so very much, and I can’t wait to marry her next month.” He leans down to kiss her lips softly, and she beams up at him. Everyone ooohs and aaahs. They stare at each other for a moment, as if communicating some message, and Monica nods once.

  “I’m a lucky man. Doubly lucky, it would seem.” He smiles at everyone, happiness radiating off of him like the sun. “Because not only has this amazing woman agreed to be my wife, but she’s also going to be the mother of my child.”

  I freeze. Did he just…? Does he mean someday? Or is—?

  Everyone goes quiet, trying to figure out if he’s saying what we think he’s saying.

  Monica laughs. “You guys! I’m pregnant!”

  Cheers erupt all around us and everyone approaches them to give hugs and kisses of congratulations—everyone except for me and Charlie. We stay frozen.

  I turn to Charlie to gauge his reaction to this news. He’s staring at Max and Monica, wide-eyed and unblinking. He’s white as a sheet and sweat has popped out on his forehead and upper lip.

  I swallow down my own reaction to this news and focus on him. “Charlie, you okay?” I ask him quietly.

  He blinks slowly then rapidly, as if he just zoned out then came back to the present.

  “Charlie.” I reach up to touch his face and he looks down at me.

  “You okay?”

  Nodding a little too quickly, he says, “Yes. I’m fine.” His words are hollow and he looks like he might puke.

  “Come outside with me for a second.”

  He hesitates. “We have to go say something to them.”

  “We will, but let’s just get some fresh air for five minutes. They won’t even notice we’re gone.” I nod to indicate the line of people waiting to hug the happy couple.

  He nods and follows me outside to the back deck. I guide him into a seat and he tugs me down so I’m sitting on his lap sideways. My fingers tangle in his hair as he buries his head in my chest and wraps his arms around me. I hold him, heart aching for what he must be feeling. Heart aching for what I’m feeling.

  We stay entwined for a few minutes, just breathing together, processing this news. Monica and Max are having a baby. It’s happy news. They were radiating joy. Despite the likelihood that this was an unplanned pregnancy, they’re embracing the news and clearly want to start a family together.

  But for those of us who have lost a baby, hearing about someone else’s joy can be a painful reminder of the past. My eyes burn with unshed tears and I fight them back, willing them to go away, to just wait until later.

  “Hey.” I rub Charlie’s scalp, nudging him to look up at me.

  He slowly raises his head and meets my gaze. His gorgeous blue eyes are swimming in sorrow and regret. He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing, and attempts to school his features, but I can see right through him. He’s lost to the ghosts of his past.

  “I don’t know why I’m…”

  “It’s okay to be upset, Charlie.”

  He shakes his head. “But, I’m happy for Max. He’s going to be a great dad.” His voice breaks on the last word. Chin quivering, he bites his upper lip and takes a deep breath, fighting his emotions.

  “They’re going to be great parents,” I agree.

  Tears well in his eyes. “I just can’t help but wonder what kind of dad I would have been.” His voice is like gravel, like there is an actual lump in his throat preventing the words from coming out. When he blinks, two fat tears drop onto his cheeks. I follow their path down his face.

  My heart squeezes with emotion, and my tears fall, too.

  I stare at him. “You would’ve been amazing,” I tell him.

  He looks away, wiping his face. “Maybe,” he mutters.

  I pull his face up, forcing him to meet my eyes again. “Charlie Nelson, you listen to me: you are a good man. You would have been the best dad you could be, and this right here”—I motion between us and the house—“it’s normal to be upset. It doesn’t mean you aren’t happy for your friend. I have no doubt you will be there to support Max when he needs it.”

  He nods slowly, gaze locked on mine.

  “Thank you,” he says softly.

  “For what?”

  “For believing in me.”

  I smile softly at him. “You make it easy.”

  His expression softens, morphing into one of affection.

  My heart squeezes yet again, but this time it isn’t in pain. This time, it’s with love.

  I’m in love with Charlie Nelson.

  He studies my face, and I’m afraid he can see it, my love, as if I wrote it across my forehead. I don’t know how to cover it up.

  “I love you, Quinn Fitzpatrick.”

  My heart stops, then gallops into overdrive. My mouth gapes open, unable to contain my surprise. I try to talk, to form a coherent response. I love you too is on the tip of my tongue,
but I’m flabbergasted.

  “I know you love me, too. Don’t try to deny it.” He smiles, and some of his magnetic charisma colors his expression. It’s exactly what I need to stop holding my breath and get my vocal chords working again.

  “You’re pretty full of yourself,” I huff.

  “I am,” he says confidently. His smile is slow but sure, and it reaches his eyes, chasing the sadness away. The dimples grace me with an appearance. “You make me want to be a better man. I hope one day, in the future, I might get a second chance.” He stares at me with hope.

  Ice seeps into my veins and dread sinks in my stomach like a brick.

  “A second chance?” I croak.

  He smiles a self-deprecating smile. “I know I’m doing this all wrong. I’ve just had a bit of a mental breakdown then told you I love you. I’m going to stop while I’m ahead.”

  A relieved laugh bubbles out of me.

  “You ready to go back in?” he asks.

  “Sure, let’s go.”

  I take the short walk back inside to compose myself. The sadness, the pain, the guilt, the regret—I push all those feelings into a box and pack that box tight. I envision sealing it with staples and tape. Then I put the box in a garbage can. I have to get rid of my emotions to make it through the rest of this party. I have a house full of happy people and I will not ruin Monica’s bridal shower. That isn’t the kind of thing someone forgets, not even when you’re on the verge of breaking down.

  I just found out the man I’m in love with loves me, too.

  I should be elated, but I’m not.

  Because I also just found out the man I love wants to have children. He wants a second chance. And I can’t give that to him.

  How could I be so stupid?

  THIS WEEK HAS BEEN crazy. The day after the bridal shower, work took me back to New York to finalize the deal with Roger Diamond. Jason lined up some other clients in the area to meet with while I was there, so I’m just getting back four days later.

  Quinn and I have talked every day, but I feel like something has changed. She seems distant; I’m afraid I ran my big mouth and told her I love her too soon.

  I know she wasn’t looking for anything serious when we started.

  But I also know she’s falling in love with me, too. I can see it in her eyes, in the way they soften when she looks at me. I can see it in the way she comforts me, how she sticks up for me, even when I’m the one talking badly about myself.

  I miss her like crazy. The distance, both physical and emotional, is killing me. I need to see her, kiss her, touch her, make her remember how amazing we are.

  But first, I need to wrap up a few things before I leave work and head to happy hour. Max and Logan told me in no uncertain terms that I couldn’t ditch them tonight.

  I finalize the additions to Quinn’s website. She gave me her password weeks ago when I offered to redo it for her, so I uploaded some of the pictures I took of her in her studio as well as some of the pictures of her most recent pieces. What she had before was pretty basic, but she admitted that she didn’t get many customers through her website and relied on Art Redefined’s site to promote her pieces. I figure it can’t hurt to have a better website.

  I can’t wait for the next open house, either. Suzanne loved my ideas to integrate my photography with Quinn’s pieces, so I attach the photos and email them to her. I’m so excited to connect my art with Quinn’s—I just hope she feels the same way.

  The scary part is that I want to connect more than just my art with Quinn—I’ve been thinking about us moving in together, too. We sleep together every night (when I’m not out of town anyway) and it makes no sense to keep paying for two places when there’s plenty of room at either place for the both of us. But that niggling feeling in the back of my mind tells me not to push this too soon. I don’t want to spook her more with talk of moving in together before I have a chance to find out why she’s acting off lately.

  30 minutes later, I’m shocked to find I’m the first one at O’Malley’s. I nurse a beer and take out my cell to text Quinn.

  Me: Hey, we still on for tonight?

  Red: Yeah, sounds good

  Me: I’ll be there in a couple of hours. I miss you.

  Red: Okay.

  I frown at that response. No I miss you too. The niggle in the back of my head blossoms into worry. What’s wrong? What did I miss? How could I have misread the signs?

  “Uh-oh, is there trouble in paradise?” Logan asks me. I’m startled to find him standing over my shoulder, reading my texts.

  “Jesus Christ, you scared me. When did you become a ninja?”

  “I’ve always been a ninja.” He smirks.

  I stand and greet him with a hand clasp and shoulder smack as Max walks up, catching us mid-embrace. “Aww, I need some love, too.”

  “Fuck off,” I say with a smile and yank him in for a real hug, squeezing him extra hard. “I can’t believe you’re having a baby,” I say into his ear.

  “I know, I can’t believe it either, but I’ve had some time to get used to the idea. I can’t wait.”

  We sit and Shirley comes over to take our order.

  “How was your trip?” Max asks me.

  “Work-wise, it was awesome.”

  “Work-wise?” Logan raises his eyebrows for clarification.

  I sigh. “Yeah. I’m killing it at work. My boss even mentioned an opening in management to me.”

  “Management? I never knew you wanted to go into management,” Max says.

  “I never did, but the more I think about it, the more the idea is growing on me. It would mean a huge pay raise and less traveling.”

  “I thought you loved traveling.”

  “I used to, but lately it just…”

  “It takes you away from Quinn.” Max hits the nail right on the head.

  “Bingo.” Logan points to Max. “The look on your face says it all. You are officially pussy-whipped, too. I knew this day would come.” Logan and Max smile wide at each other.

  “Yeah, yeah. You guys know everything,” I mutter.

  Max turns to me, all of a sudden serious. “So I wanted to ask you about something.”

  His somber expression scares me. “What is it? Do you need an organ? You can have anything I have two of.”

  “No, it’s nothing like that. At the party after I made the announcement about the baby, Monica was worried about Quinn for some reason.”

  I squint, surprised at this. “Why?”

  “Not sure, but we couldn’t find you guys so we peeked outside and saw you on the back deck. You both looked upset.”

  My face heats, embarrassed that he saw me having an emotional meltdown. I look away, unsure what to say. How do I explain myself to him? Quinn’s words echo in my brain, telling me that sharing what happened might help me grieve. Let your friends lighten the load you carry.

  “I saw you, too,” Logan says quietly. “I’ve never seen you so upset.”

  “Is Quinn pregnant?” Max asks.

  I blow out a breath. “No.”

  “Then…what is it?” Max asks gently. “I mean, you don’t have to tell us, but…fuck Charlie, if there’s anything I can do, just let me know.” His bright blue eyes meet mine, full of worry. I look between him and Logan, whose brown eyes shine with concern.

  I clench my jaw and swallow down the lump in my throat. I can do this. I can tell my best friends in the whole world what happened, but can I do it without crying? I’m not sure, but fuck it. They’re my best friends in the whole world.

  “There’s something I never told you guys,” I start.

  They both lean closer, attention locked on me, waiting for me to continue.

  “Remember when Anna and I broke up?”

  They both look a bit thrown at the topic, but they nod.

  “I remember being so surprised that she cheated on you. You were torn up for a while after that,” Logan comments carefully.

  I take a deep, fortifying breath and contin
ue. “Well, she never cheated on me. We broke up for a different reason.”

  Max’s eyes narrow, and I can see the wheels turning in his brain. “Did she get pregnant?” he asks quietly.

  I nod, defeated, and proceed to tell them the whole thing—the plans Anna and I made when we were young and in love, the way she hid the pregnancy and the abortion from me until it was done, even the nightmares that still plague me from time to time. Eye contact proves too difficult, so I grab a napkin and start shredding it while I talk.

  When I’m done, the only sounds are from the rest of the bar. Neither Max nor Logan has said one word the entire story and now that I’m finished, their silence is killing me. I take a deep, cleansing breath and look up.

  Max’s fists clenched, facial expression a cross between shock and anger. Is he mad at me? Logan looks just as shocked, though less upset.

  “Say something. If you’re mad at me, just say it already,” I tell Max.

  “Mad at you?” he asks, incredulous. “Why would I be mad at you?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know, but you look mad right now.”

  “I’m mad for you. I can’t believe you went through that. I hate that she didn’t tell you about it,” Max says earnestly.

  Relief loosens my muscles and I slump forward, resting my forearms on the table, exhausted from spilling my guts.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Logan asks.

  “Fuck, we were 16 years old. I didn’t know how to process it myself and the easiest way was to give you a different reason, bury it deep, and start fucking other girls.”

  “I don’t think I’d have been able to fuck anyone else for fear of getting them pregnant,” Logan admits.

  “I never went without a condom.” Not until Quinn, anyway.

  “No wonder you were upset last week. I’m sorry I blindsided you with the news. If I had known, I would have told you privately so you could wrap your mind around it without company there.”

  “It is what it is.” I shrug. “You didn’t know.”

  “I’m sorry, Charlie,” Logan says.

  “It sucks that you had to go through that,” Max adds. “But you can talk to us, you know? Sometimes just getting it off your chest makes a difference.”