For All The Wrong Reasons

by Brownell, Rachael

  “Huh?”

  “You’re overthinking. Whatever’s on your mind, just say it.”

  Right. That’s going to go over well.

  Hey, remember when we use to cuddle like this from time to time? Did you have a thing for me that summer?

  Nope. Can’t do that.

  Whatever he says, yes or no, could cause a massive explosion of our plan. If his answer is yes, it would change the course of everything. If his answer is no, I might actually break.

  “Gabby,” Quinn starts, removing his arm from around my shoulders and turning to face me, causing the blanket to slip from my lap and land on the floor. That’s where I keep my eyes trained. It’s the safest place to focus right now. “Gavin is an asshole. I know you love him, and I’m sorry, but it’s how I feel. He treated you like shit and let you go. He doesn’t deserve a second chance with you.”

  Yep. The blanket is definitely the safest place to look right now.

  “I know it’s what you want, but I really wish you’d reconsider. You deserve so much better. You deserve to be loved. To feel loved. You’re not a toy he can play with whenever he wants and then toss aside when something shiny and new presents itself.

  “You are so much better than him. You’re the best person I know and only deserve the best. I’d like to try and be that person. The one you can rely on. The one that helps you realize your worth. The one to love you the way you deserve.”

  A tear escapes and drips onto my hands. They’re clasped in my lap, holding on to each other for support. My resolve is about to break. Every emotion, every repressed feeling, every ounce of control I have is bubbling at the surface.

  It all wants to be free.

  And the only way I can imagine setting them free, setting myself free, is to take action. Action that scares me to my core. Action that also excites me and causes my heart to beat wildly in my chest. A heart that yearns for Quinn.

  Not Gavin.

  Not the life I used to have or the future I imagined.

  It wants more. More than I ever imagined I would have or feel or want.

  And that comes in the form of a tall, lean man who always smells woodsy with a hint of sweetness, has piercing golden-brown eyes, and keeps his hair buzzed short enough that I can’t grab hold of it.

  Closing my eyes, I attempt to envision what life would be like with Quinn. How different it would be. How amazing it could be.

  But all I see is darkness.

  “Gabby.” His voice is soothing. Encouraging. “Wake up, Gabs.”

  Wake up?

  Cracking my eyes open, the first thing I notice is the credits scrolling across the screen. My glass of wine is on the coffee table in front of me, untouched. The blanket is tucked under my chin and my head is resting in Quinn’s lap.

  It was all a dream. Our conversation never happened. His beautiful words—his confession—were a figment of my imagination.

  Sitting up, I push myself away from Quinn and avoid eye contact. That doesn’t stop him from placing his hand under my chin and tilting my head until he’s staring me in the eyes. “You must have been having a great dream because you were smiling the entire time.”

  “I don’t remember,” I answer quickly, immediately wanting to bang my head against the wall for giving away my lie.

  “Anything you want to share?” he asks, his voice filled with curiosity and his eyes filled with hope.

  Yes. Plenty of things.

  “Not really,” I admit, pulling my chin from his grasp. “What time is it?”

  “Late, or early depending on how you look at it. I should probably go.”

  “Or you could stay,” I find myself saying.

  My words stop Quinn as he begins to stand. Halfway off the couch, bent forward, he slowly stands to his full height and turns to face me.

  “That would complicate things, don’t you think?”

  Action, Gabby. It may have been a dream, but subconsciously you know there’s some truth to what happened, even if it’s just on your part. You want him. The only way you’re going to get him is if you take action.

  Tossing the blanket aside, I push myself off the couch and then move to stand in front of Quinn, never taking my eyes off his. Once I’m close enough, I press up on my tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his lips before sinking back to my normal height and waiting for him to respond.

  I can see the conflict in his eyes. He’s being pulled in two different directions. The same way I have been pulled the last few days. Since the night he pinned me against my couch. The same couch I’m pleading with him to pin me against right now.

  “Fuck it,” he finally whispers as he places a hand on either side of my face and captures my lips.

  My body comes alive the moment he touches me. His arms snake around my waist and pull me close, pressing every inch of my body against the hard contours of his while my arms wrap around his neck, pulling his head down and locking his mouth against mine.

  I allow myself to get lost in his kiss, his touch, and the way he makes me feel. And, right now, I’m feeling a lot of different things. Primarily lust. The need building inside me is overwhelming.

  Reaching for the buttons of his shirt, I’m still struggling with the first one when I feel his tug on my zipper just before the sound echoes through the room. A soft moan escapes me, causing him to stop suddenly, my zipper resting just above the small of my back.

  And then he pulls away suddenly, stepping out of our embrace. His chest heaves with each breath as he stares at me with a mix of emotions. His eyes, now dark and stormy, feel as though they’re staring into my soul.

  “Gabs.”

  I’ve never heard my name used as a warning before, and it thrills me. To know I’ve had that much of an effect on him. To know I’m not the only one feeling out of control.

  “This breaks all the rules,” he states, each word punctuated between breaths.

  “I made the rules,” I counter.

  “This wasn’t part of the deal.”

  “I think we both know things have changed.”

  Stepping toward Quinn, I watch as he steps back. Away from me. Toward the door. Toward his escape.

  I’m basically throwing myself at him. Why? I shouldn’t have to. He should want this as much as I do. I thought he did, or was that just another figment of my imagination? Did I mistake the passion in his kiss for something else?

  “They have, and that’s exactly why I can’t stay here. We both know what will happen next, and that’s not what either of us wants.”

  Isn’t it?

  We both went into this with a different goal, sure, but that’s changed. At least for me. After tonight, it’s hard to imagine wanting to be with Gavin again. I know he was drunk and more than likely jealous seeing me with Quinn, but the way he acted, how he treated me, that’s not what I want in a relationship.

  I want more.

  I deserve more.

  In fact, I demand more.

  And what I want right now is to be back in Quinn’s arms. For him to hold me and make me feel loved and cherished. The way he’s been doing since this all started.

  Since we began fake dating.

  Since I signed the fucking contract that said we would do whatever it takes to make our relationship appear believable. So we can be with the people we desire most.

  Not so we can be with each other.

  All I can do is nod at him before turning away as reality smacks me in the face.

  He was playing his part. Just like me, he has needs, and when the situation presented itself, he acted on those needs. Not because he wants to be with me but because I was here. Available.

  Tears begin to fall as I hear the door close behind him. When I hear the engine of his truck come to life outside the window, the flood gates open and my body collapses onto the couch.

  Wrapping myself in the blanket, I stare at the now black screen and let everything go. All the anger. All the pain. I let it all go and attempt to find my resolve only to take a
deep breath and smell Quinn’s aftershave on the blanket, sending me into a fresh emotional downward spiral.

  Chapter Fourteen

  QUINN

  The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life was walk away from Gabby. I knew if we crossed the imaginary line in the sand, the line she spelled out in the contract she insisted we have, that there was no turning back. I’d never want to let her go.

  Before I let that happen, I needed to make sure she didn’t want to be with Gavin anymore. I had to be absolutely certain she was over him.

  And, if I was being honest with myself, I needed to be sure I was over Kara.

  I hadn’t given her much thought lately. My focus was on Gabby. On making sure she was happy and safe. Her heart had been broken, and this has been much harder on her than it’s been on me. At every turn, Gavin seemed to show his face. Or his ass, depending on how you categorize things.

  And he was always with the same skank he was with last night. Almost as if he was searching out Gabby and finding ways to rub it in her face that he had moved on. Yet he tried to make a move on her last night. He called out her name in ecstasy. It doesn’t make sense.

  “You’re home late.”

  Tossing my shirt in the corner, I turn to find Kara leaning against my door frame, arms crossed over her chest. Her signature move. The way she does it, her breasts are pushed up and put on display. Not that I mind. She has a beautiful body. Still, I wish she knew she didn’t need to put it on show for all to see.

  Wasn’t I on display right now too? Quickly reaching into my closet, I grab a fresh shirt and then pull it over my head and cover myself. As much as I want her to appreciate my body, to want me the way I want her, I’m not in the mood right now.

  “Yeah. We fell asleep.”

  “Right. At a frat party. That’s called passing out,” she teases, entering my room and then taking a seat on the edge of my bed without being invited.

  We’ve lived together for almost three months now. I can count the number of times she’s been in my room on one hand, and two of those have been in the last twelve hours. This is my sanctuary. My personal space. I like to keep it that way. Tess has never been in here. I keep my door closed at all times.

  “We left early and watched a movie at her place. The party was too much. Gabby’s ex was being an ass.”

  It’s the truth, to a point, but it feels like I’m lying to her. Why? It shouldn’t matter.

  “You’re a guy. You know why guys act like that.”

  “Like what?”

  Kara raises her left eyebrow and gives me a pointed look. When I don’t say anything, she continues. “Why do you think he was being an asshole to her? Do you think maybe he wants her back? That he misses her? That he’s jealous you two are together now? If I had to guess, or if I was going to listen to the gossip around campus, I’d say he still has a thing for her.”

  Shit!

  “What are we, twelve? Guys don’t act like that anymore.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Listen, Kara. I’m tired. Right now, all I want is to go to sleep and not talk or think about Gavin. He made his decision months ago. He screwed himself over. Whether he wants to make amends or not, he’s going about it the wrong way. Gabby’s moved on. He should too.”

  My words surprise me. There’s more conviction behind them than I intended. Even I believe what I’m saying. There’s a lot of truth in my statements, but there’s also a lot I’m not saying. A lot Kara doesn’t know and doesn’t need to.

  Kara scoffs at me before letting herself out, closing the door behind her.

  Taking the seat, she just vacated, I scrub my face with my hands and shake my head.

  The plan wasn’t supposed to be this complicated. It seemed so simple. It was all pretend. Fake it for a while. Make them jealous. Break it off and remain friends.

  So far we seem to be doing a bang-up job.

  Sure, we’ve made them jealous. At least a little. Gavin for sure. Kara still has an indifferent attitude most of the time.

  The faking it part is what’s throwing everything off balance.

  I’m not sure when it happened, but I stopped pretending to be attracted to Gabby and actually opened my eyes. She’s amazing. I don’t want to be her friend anymore. Or her fake boyfriend. I want to be her everything.

  And that thought alone complicates things more than anything else. Because I saw the same look in her eyes tonight. Or at least I think I did. I saw something for sure. It could have been my hormones affecting my vision, but I swear she was looking at me like she wanted more.

  And I turned her away.

  Like an asshole.

  Even if I did it for the right reasons. To save myself from heartache.

  “Breakfast,” I hear Tess call through my door as I’m about to open it.

  Since when do we eat breakfast together? Coffee is the breakfast staple in this house, and even then, we normally fill our travel mugs and go our separate ways in the morning.

  Still, the smells emanating from down the stairs intrigue me and cause my stomach to growl in anticipation. I don’t normally eat this early in the morning. My appetite doesn’t even wake up until noon on most days. I blame the caffeine from the three cups of coffee I’ll consume before I eat.

  The table is set with three plates, three steaming cups of coffee, and a spread of food. Kara is standing across the room from me, forks gripped tightly in her right hand.

  “Good morning.” Her words are hesitant, sounding more like a question than a statement.

  Taking the seat closest to me, I wait for her to sit down before I speak. She slides into the seat across from me and then hands me a fork. “Did you do all this?”

  “Yeah. Couldn’t sleep, so I figured I could at least cook.”

  “I didn’t realize we even had this much food in the house.”

  “We didn’t,” Tess cuts in, taking the seat on my left. “She went to the store before the roosters were even awake.”

  Kara’s scooping scrambled eggs and hash browns onto my plate before I can thank her. Tess holds her plate out, and Kara serves her as well. We eat in silence, clearing each platter of food one after the next until Tess starts clearing the table, quickly announcing her departure.

  “I should probably get going too. My study group started ten minutes ago,” Kara explains as she reaches for my plate to clear it from the table.

  “I got this,” I reply, taking her plate from her hand instead as I push away from the table. “You cooked. I’ll clean.”

  “Don’t you have plans today?”

  I do. I need to go to Gabby’s and apologize for running away from her last night. She’s supposed to come over tonight and hang out. We were going to watch a movie, and she was going to sleep over.

  You know, all part of the master plan that seems to be falling apart more every day.

  “Not until later. I have a few errands to run this morning but nothing pressing,” I lie.

  “You should come down to the bar tonight if you’re not busy. We decorated for Halloween this week. It looks awesome inside.”

  Halloween. Kara’s favorite holiday. She lives for dressing up and decorating. That’s part of the reason we rented a house instead of an apartment. She wanted to be able to decorate the yard, not that we have much of one to decorate.

  “Maybe,” I reply in lieu of a promise I wasn’t sure I would be able to keep.

  “I guess I’ll see you later,” she states, defeat evident in her voice as she backs out of the dining room.

  Damn it!

  I’m disappointing everyone at every turn. You’d think I’d be able to make at least one person happy. Nope. Not me. I can’t even seem to figure out what makes me happy.

  I laid awake in bed most of last night trying to figure out what I wanted. How much I was willing to risk. Weighing the pros and cons of taking a chance on a relationship with Gabby. Wondering how much our friendship is going to suffer, and how much it already has, by playi
ng the stupid game we’re playing.

  That’s what I need to talk to her about this morning, the ramifications of whatever step we decide to take next. Because we need to be on the same page.

  Laying it all on the table is going to be hard. Especially if she doesn’t feel the same way I do, but it’s necessary. If we don’t, things are going to turn out worse than I could ever imagine.

  Chapter Fifteen

  GABRIELLE

  I made a list. A very long, detailed list.

  It didn’t help.

  All it did was confuse me more. Make me realize how fucked up this situation is.

  What have I done?

  Correction. Not I. We.

  What have we done?

  That’s the one question I know the answer to.

  We’ve risked our friendship, years of great memories and fun times, for the chance to have something we may not be meant to have.

  We’ve risked everything for the illusion of perfection. For the chance with people we’re infatuated with, not in love with.

  And now we’re stuck in an impossible situation with no clear escape plan.

  Or are we?

  We still have to break up. That’s our out. We agreed it needed to be public, that people needed to witness it so the rumor mill on campus would spread the news to the right people. Word of mouth is the best kind of advertising, especially when it’s something people don’t think you’ll want heard.

  People speak louder when they have something negative to say. Bad experience at a restaurant? Leave a review on Yelp. Didn’t like the book you read? Let everyone on Goodreads or Amazon know how you feel.

  And don’t even get me started on social media.

  My phone chimes in my hand as I’m about to slam it on the kitchen counter in frustration at the thought of my personal life being blasted across every social network. It happened when Gavin broke up with me, and I guarantee it’ll happen this time as well.

  Only I have a little bit of control over how this goes down.

  QUINN: On my way over.