No Going Back (Revolving Door Book 3)

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No Going Back (Revolving Door Book 3) Page 7

by Dani Matthews


  “No, it’s not,” he corrects. “He gave a false name to his employer, and now he’s disappeared.”

  I shrug, not really caring. “He could have left town.”

  He gives me a long, deliberate look. “Then why go through all the trouble to stalk you?”

  “Colt, I just want this over with,” I say with exasperation.

  “So do I, but I have a feeling this is far from done. You need to be careful,” he advises.

  “I’m not putting my life on hold for that freak,” I say adamantly.

  “I’m not asking you to. Just be careful,” he reiterates.

  “Okay.”

  He nods. “Later,” he says, walking away to his truck.

  I climb into my car, frowning. Now that Colt knows everything, a lot of my concerns have faded. Truthfully, I’d been more upset over coming clean to Colt than Slade’s actual threats. He can’t destroy my relationship with Colt, and that’s the one thing I hold dear. What else can he do? Follow me around and annoy me?

  He’ll grow bored with time.

  ***

  After an uneventful day at the salon, I decide I’m not ready to go back to the house. It’s amazing how much better I feel compared to last week. I haven’t shopped lately, so I decide to drop by my favorite little boutique. They have the styles I enjoy for low prices.

  Yes, I’m aware that Slade could be watching me, but I doubt that’s all he’s up to. I mean really, I work at the salon all day. There’s more to life than spying on me, even if he is trying to annoy the hell out of me. Even so, I had taken care to keep an eye out for any vehicles that appeared to be following too closely.

  As I slip into a dressing room with a handful of clothing, I frown. I don’t even know what kind of vehicle Slade drives. The muffled sound of my phone chiming draws my attention. I set the clothes on the small bench and dig my phone out of my purse. I bring up the new text message. It’s from Colt. Where are you?

  My eyebrows lift. Is he waiting for me at the house? If I’d known that, I would have gone straight home. I send back, shopping. I wait, but he doesn’t respond back. Odd. I’ll have to check with him later to find out what he’d wanted.

  Once my phone is tucked back into my purse, I strip down and try on the clothes as my thoughts linger on Colt. My attraction towards him has progressed now that I know he’s attracted to me as well. I wish he saw himself as I see him. I know he’d never intentionally hurt a woman, but he doubts himself. It saddens me that he sees himself so negatively.

  I really need to talk to Harper about all this, but I haven’t had a chance to fill her in because Gabe’s been off work. Today’s his last day off, and then he works the next four.

  After I try on the clothes, I buy the outfits that I like and head home. When I arrive, Colt’s truck is out front, and I tell myself not to go in search for him right away. After yesterday’s revelations, it’s imperative that everything go back to normal no matter how badly I wish otherwise.

  As soon as I enter the house, I carry my bags to my room and dump them on the bed. Call me superficial, but shopping always brightens my day.

  I hear someone slip into my room, and I spin around as Colt firmly closes the door behind him. He looks displeased as his eyes lock on mine. “You went shopping,” he states.

  I stare at him. He’d said it as if he’d caught me dancing topless on a bar. What the hell? “I did. I enjoy shopping,” I reply.

  He walks over and stands toe to toe with me, causing me to crane my head back so that I can see his face. He’s so close that I can smell the tantalizing scent of his cologne. “Did you forget that your psycho ex is stalking you?” he reminds.

  I make a face. “He’s not my ex.”

  “I don’t care what you call him, he’s still following you.”

  I wonder what he’d do if he knew I’m currently imagining closing the distance between us and pressing my breasts against his solid chest. It’s honestly not my fault, he’s the one who got all up in my space. His chest is mere inches from mine. How can he not be tempted? Is he really that unaffected?

  “I’m being careful, Colt,” I say, struggling to follow the conversation. “But I’m also not going to stop doing the things that I enjoy. Look how paranoid Harper became when she tried to stick close to home,” I point out, trying not to betray what’s going on in my mind.

  His expression is unyielding as he stares me down. “She almost died,” he clips out.

  “That was different,” I argue. “Her life was actually threatened. Slade’s just being an asshole.”

  He gives me a measured look. “You don’t think strangling and covering you in blood was a threat?”

  I hate being reminded of it, and just like that, the temptation to rub myself against him disappears. “Asphyxiation during sex is something some couples do. I don’t like it, but that doesn’t mean that others don’t,” I say defensively.

  His face lowers and gets right into mine. “He nearly strangled you to unconsciousness.”

  “But he didn’t.”

  “Why are you defending him?” he asks, his tone resembling a low, frustrated growl.

  It wouldn’t take much to close the distance between our lips. He’s so close that I can see the flecks in his hazel eyes. He hadn’t shaved this morning, and my fingers itch to feel the coarseness along his jaw. I just want to drink him in and never come up for air.

  I shake off my dangerous thoughts and concentrate on the conversation. “I’m not. I’m defending my right to shop.”

  His eyes flash with a hint of temper. “Don’t make a joke about this, Quinn.”

  I deliberately—and reluctantly—take a step back, putting distance between us before I cave to the temptation and do something that I shouldn’t. “I’m not. You know me, Colt. I like to go out and enjoy life. Staying in nightly isn’t my thing.”

  A muscle begins to flex in his jaw. “If you need to go out, I’ll go with you.”

  “That’s not a good idea,” I automatically reply. Going out with Colt would be pure torture. I’d either be miserable watching women hit on him, or I’d do something I might regret—like kiss those wickedly shaped lips.

  “This isn’t about us, Quinn.”

  “Exactly. If I want a tag-along, there’s plenty of others to ask.”

  “Be careful,” he says finally.

  “I will,” I assure. “I enjoy living too much to be careless with my life.”

  ***

  The following evening, Harper and I are at a restaurant as I fill her in on what’s been happening lately.

  She stares at me from across the narrow table. We’re at a small restaurant that serves mostly sandwiches and soups. We’d snagged a table in the corner, so we have some semblance of privacy. “You can’t be serious,” she says, setting her spoon down in her bowl of soup.

  “Afraid so,” I tell her after I finish the bite of the chicken sandwich that I’d just taken.

  “In blood?” She shudders. “That’s gross.” Her eyes turn serious. “You need to tell Colt. You can’t keep this a secret because of your feelings for him.”

  “I did.” I sigh, reaching for my glass of soda. “He went to track down Slade, but it turns out he quit the bar and bailed on the apartment. He’s disappeared.”

  A wrinkle appears between Harper’s eyebrows. “Is that good or bad?”

  I shrug. “I guess only time will tell,” I say truthfully.

  She observes me and then comments, “You seem awfully calm about the situation.”

  I set down the soda and reach for my sandwich. “That’s because I’m kind of distracted by other things,” I reveal.

  She looks puzzled. “What’s more important than a stalker?”

  “A mutual attraction,” I say deliberately. “One that I’d assumed was one-sided, but definitely isn’t.”

  Her eyes widen. “You told Colt the truth? And he feels the same?”

  I nod.

  “What are you going to do?” she immediate
ly asks.

  “There’s nothing I can do. His mind is set that he wants to ignore the attraction.”

  “Then why tell you?”

  “I think he thought it’d make things less awkward if I knew I wasn’t the only one feeling that way.”

  Harper’s quiet, and she picks up her spoon and drags it through her soup, snagging vegetables.

  I shake my head, still stuck on the topic of Colt. “It’s exhilarating knowing he feels the same, but it’s also kind of depressing. He’s so closed-off to anything that would mean getting close to someone…”

  “If Gabe had given up on me, we wouldn’t be as happy as we are today and about to move in together. I would have moved on and compared every man thereafter to Gabe. I wouldn’t have been truly happy knowing that I’d always wonder what might have been.”

  I look at her as if she’s grown two heads, and my sandwich pauses halfway to my mouth. “You think I should fight for him?”

  “Why not, Quinn? No one’s going to understand you better than Colt, and vice versa.”

  I shake my head. “If I pursued Colt and it backfired, I’d be damaging everything I have, and Channing and Gabe won’t come out of it unscathed, either. It could ruin everything, Harper.”

  “You’ve never run from anything in your life,” she reminds.

  “Did you not hear what I just said?”

  “Oh, I heard you. I also think you’re living in the past. It isn’t you, Colt, Gabe, and Channing against the world anymore. Channing has Ash, and anyone can see that she’s his life. Gabe has me, and we’ll be moving out soon. Life is moving on right before your eyes, and the guys are beginning to settle down. Don’t you want someone to love? Someone to come home to?”

  “Of course, I do.”

  Her eyes spark cajolingly. “If Colt can be that man, don’t you at least want to try?” she coaxes.

  “It could ruin our relationship—for good.”

  “But if you don’t try, you’ll never know,” she chides gently. “Quinn, just because he thinks he’d make a bad boyfriend doesn’t make it true. Prove to him just how good he could be. You don’t have to make a decision right now, but it’s something to think about,” she adds.

  Nine

  Quinn

  Harper’s suggestion is still on my mind when I arrive home after work the following day. I can’t deny that she has a point. If Colt were anyone else, I’d shelve my concerns and go ahead and take the chance. But he’s not, and I can’t imagine my life without him. Yes, we’d overcome an awkward hurdle with admitting the attraction, but that doesn’t mean we can overcome his past. His memories, his fears, his feelings, they make up who he is today. He’s not going to suddenly flip a switch and see things in a different light.

  My thoughts are still on Colt when I nearly run into Sebastian, and we just barely avoid a collision in the hall near the kitchen. He runs a hand through his blond hair. “Hey, got time to give me a trim?”

  I’m relieved to have a distraction. “Sure. Just let me grab the clippers.”

  “I’ll meet you in the basement.”

  I go to my room and grab the small case that contains all my haircare equipment. Then I head down to the basement, aware that Colt isn’t home yet. A part of me is hoping to see him while the other needs some space to sort out all the thoughts inside my head.

  Sebastian is already in the bathroom, and he tosses his shirt onto the counter near the sink.

  My eyes run over him. Sebastian’s one of those types that oozes sex appeal. There’s something about him that radiates ‘a good fuck,’ and his charm has panties dropping left and right. So why am I so unaffected? His chest is ripped, and playfulness typically gleams in his aquamarine gaze. He’s hell on women. So how am I immune?

  Sebastian settles on the closed toilet lid, his jean-clad knees spread, and his hands dangling between them. “Do me like you usually do, luv.”

  I’m amused as I step closer and begin running a comb through his hair. Sebastian can make the simplest of things sound dirty. “How many times have you said that this month?” I quip.

  “None. I quit going back for seconds when the women kept thinking I actually wanted to get to know them.” His eyes drift closed. “I like it when you do my hair. Feels good,” he mumbles.

  I chuckle and set the comb down, running my hands over his scalp. He has great hair, and he tends to zone out while I work. I don’t usually give head massages to clients, but Sebastian’s a friend.

  He releases a low, contented rumble.

  “Are you like this when you get your hair cut in public?” I tease, rubbing close to his temples.

  He snorts. “No.”

  “How’s work going?”

  “Same old shit, different day.”

  I run my fingers over his scalp one more time before picking up the clippers. “Did you get that promotion you were hoping for?” Sebastian works in construction. He’s the kind of guy that can’t sit still very long, so he’d gravitated towards a career that keeps him out from behind a desk.

  “Don’t know yet.”

  The sound of the clippers fills the bathroom as I concentrate on his hair.

  “Had any problems?” he asks.

  “Problems?” I lean in closer, careful as I maneuver the clippers around his ear.

  “With the asshole that hurt you,” he clarifies.

  My eyes flicker to his, and I find that his eyes are serious for once. “I’m good,” I assure, refocusing on his hair.

  I see a shadow in the corner of my eye, and I look up to see Colt peering into the bathroom. I note that he could use a trim, too. “Want to be next?” I ask.

  “Yeah, sure.” He leans an arm on the door’s frame, watching me finish Sebastian.

  I turn off the clippers and set it on the counter before grabbing a towel and handing it to Sebastian.

  He stands, running the towel over his hair and bare shoulders. Then, he tosses it aside and reaches for his shirt. “Thanks, luv,” he tells me, affectionately kissing my cheek. “I’m heading out,” he says over his shoulder as he saunters out of the bathroom and disappears down the hall.

  Colt enters the bathroom, and somehow, the bathroom seems much smaller than it had just moments ago. He strips off his shirt and tosses it to the counter. His tanned chest ripples as he takes the seat that Sebastian had just vacated.

  My mouth has gone dry as all that bare skin begs me to touch it. It’s all I can do not to let my eyes eagerly eat up the sight of the tattoos covering his strong arms.

  Maybe this was a bad idea.

  I quickly pick up the comb and move closer to him, running it through his dark hair. His shoulder is close to my ribcage, and I can feel the heat radiating off him. All I’m doing is combing his hair, and it’s causing my panties to dampen. It’s because he’s shirtless and so damned close… I’d give anything to be able to touch him in the ways that I crave. I set the comb down and reach for the clippers.

  “Anything new with Slade?”

  His question abruptly brings me back to the present. My eyes shift to his, and I have no clue what he’s thinking. “If there was, I’d tell you.”

  He doesn’t say anything more, and I concentrate on trimming his hair.

  Harper’s advice echoes in my head. I badly want to test Colt to see if there’s any way I can open him up to the idea of there being an ‘us.’ While I work on his hair, I suffer through an internal battle warring inside me.

  Harper’s suggestion wins.

  “Do you ever wonder about…it?” I dare to ask quietly.

  Colt’s eyes snag mine in the reflection of the mirror hanging above the sink. I can just barely see his head from where he’s seated on the toilet, and his eyes are warning me not to go there.

  I’m not sure if I should push him, but I’m also not one to back down after I’ve made a decision. “Do you ever wonder what it’d be like with me?” I boldly ask, simplifying the question.

  “Don’t.”

  I move
so that my body is situated in front of his, and I hold his gaze, my hand holding the clippers away from his head so that I can focus on the conversation. “You can’t continue punishing yourself over a single mistake, Colt.”

  His face hardens, and I can’t miss the growing detachment in his gaze. “It’s in my blood, Quinn. This also isn’t up for discussion. You done yet?” he asks, referring to his hair.

  “Nope,” I reply, refusing to allow his grumpy disposition to bother me.

  Silence fills the bathroom as I continue trimming his hair.

  Most people would leave Colt alone, but I’m not like most. I’ve never given up easily on anything, and Harper had pushed my buttons last night. Is Colt worth fighting for? Hell yes. I’ve already opened a can of worms, so to speak. I might as well rip off the damned lid and see what happens.

  I turn off the clippers and calmly set it on the counter. Before Colt can guess my intentions, I turn and climb onto his lap, straddling him. As his eyes widen with comical alarm, my heart thunders in my chest as I frame his rough jaw with my hands, pressing my lips to his.

  His lips are firm, and they part as he grits out, “We can’t,” as his hands settle on my waist, half-heartedly trying to push me away. He sounds torn, just as I’d been hoping. I take full advantage of his parted lips and slip my tongue inside to stroke his.

  Colt tenses beneath me as I kiss him, coaxing him to respond. He suddenly comes alive, and damn. He angles his lips across mine and devours me. I feel completely consumed by him as his tongue expertly explores my mouth, causing a fiery heat to develop directly between my thighs. My legs wrap around his waist, and I begin rocking my hips against his growing erection. I can’t get enough of him, and I moan into his mouth, begging for more.

  Colt’s body completely stills beneath me, and then he tears his lips from mine and firmly sets me aside, quickly rising to his feet. “You shouldn’t have done that, Quinn,” he snarls furiously.

  “Why not?” I challenge.

  “Because it can’t be undone.”

 

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