Broken At Love (Whitman University)

by Payne, Lyla

  He stepped forward and brushed a kiss over my cheekbone, his lips pressing against tears that I feared would never stop.

  “You’ve been drinking. My car will take you home whenever you’re ready.”

  Quinn Rowland turned and went back up the path to the house. He left me alone and devastated, torn apart and rejected. It made it worse to know he loved me too, to know how close we stood to something beautiful only to have him toss it—me—aside like trash. For all his pretty words it was still how he made me feel. Discarded.

  I sat in the sand and cried. Every time I thought I was done, more sorrow bubbled up and spilled over, throbbing in my throat. The memory of every touch, every look, every argument and moment of ecstasy paraded in my mind. I would never have it again. Not with Quinn. Maybe not with anyone else, either.

  My sobs settled into hitched gasps and finally a few hiccups. The remnants blurred my vision and drove exhaustion into my brain, dragging my eyelids toward my cheeks. Right before I gave in and lay right down on the beach to sleep the pain away, an idea popped into my mind.

  If Quinn didn’t want to be with me because of some damn noble desire to be good enough, maybe I could help him. Sebastian was the obstacle—him and those stupid photographs. If they didn’t exist, then Quinn wouldn’t have to play any more games, and he could go about proving his worth to his father or shareholders of his own without any secrets ready to pop out of the closet.

  Maybe if I got rid of Sebastian, the last roadblock between Quinn and his ability to share his feelings with me without fear would be removed forever.

  It took a while to convince myself that I could do what I intended, to work out the logistics in my mind. By that time the tears had disappeared, replaced once again by a hope that turned out to be less fragile than I thought.

  I wiped my face with the hem of my dress and made myself a promise. I would not tell Quinn how I felt again. Whatever happened with Sebastian, it would be for Quinn. So he could be happy, with or without me. For the next couple of hours, I would be his friend.

  What he decided to do with the results was up to him.

  Once I felt presentable and back in control, my feet steered me toward the house. Hours had passed and the party had died down. Plenty of students milled about on the deck and were sprawled on the furniture in the living room, and I’m sure more had taken to the bedrooms. But the music thrummed quieter and the conversations were soft as people drifted toward sleep.

  Sebastian sat alone at the deck bar, talking to the bartender and sipping a drink. I slid onto the stool next to him and gave him a smile. “I’ll have a whiskey.”

  He obliged, then quirked an eyebrow in my direction. “I see you received my invitation.”

  “Obviously.”

  “I didn’t realize you were still here.”

  “I was down by the water, thinking. I saw Quinn go upstairs with that girl—the blonde. It hurt but after a while I realized it was time to get over him.”

  “Oh? And how do you propose to do that?”

  “Well, he’s upstairs getting over me with Alison, one ‘l.’ And I thought to myself, if I were to go upstairs with Sebastian, I bet he could help do the same for me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Quinn

  Loss tore deeper through me with every step away from Emilie. Pain scraped a hundred nerve endings, making each movement and breath a searing awareness of the fact that she wouldn’t be mine. The memory of every moment we’d ever spent together tormented my mind, ripped off the good parts of me that had begun to grow, and set them on fire.

  As hard as I’d tried to convince myself that not admitting my feelings protected my heart, it was all a lie. All of those pieces her soft touch and belief had helped me gather these past weeks were obliterated with the wrenching, tearing sting of walking away for good.

  Agony tried to knock me to my knees in the mess of crabgrass and sand, sucked my stomach up into my throat. She was beautiful and strong and she loved me.

  And God help me, I loved her back.

  Everything about her. The way she smelled, the way she tasted. The way her body arched into mine. How she stood up to her father and the way she bared her soul on a canvas.

  That she looked past the insults and jackassery I’d dumped on her since the moment we’d met and seen something better—something worth saving. Worth loving.

  The only way I knew to pay her back was to walk away.

  I had thought up a million ways to beat Sebastian over the past couple of days but none of them would work. He’d never let me near those photos.

  The hours and days and weeks and years that I’d spent practicing, training, conditioning, and playing tennis matches had been some of the best of my life. They’d taught me that discipline and hard work, endurance and passion could all come together to form a dogged courage that lifted me to the heights of the sport.

  I didn’t know when I’d forgotten that guy. Emilie remembered him; she’d tried to remind me, too, of the way I never let anything stand in my way on a court. I had shrunk my epic matches down to something easily won—girls who didn’t matter, who cared less for me than I did for them—and lost my will to fight.

  Maybe my tennis days were over, but it was stupid to limit my world to such trivialities. My life, from here on, would be the tournament. The first step was to make an appointment to see my father. He wouldn’t forgive my allowing Sebastian to have that kind of control over me, and he would never allow me to be an integral part of the company when they could emerge and ruin us at any moment.

  It was fine. I would start over without Sebastian’s threats. Use the money I’d earned from tennis and from being Teddy Rowland’s son and start my own empire, even if I had to hide my name behind a shell company to get people to work with me. I would live the rest of my life striving to be the kind of man who could have swept Emilie off her feet and deserved to keep her.

  An ache opened up like a river, coursing a strange mixture of love and grief through my blood. It whispered over rocks and shared the hope deepest inside me—that perhaps if I could prove myself one day, Emilie would still have me.

  I’d never, ever ask her to wait. It wasn’t fair, just like it wasn’t fair to barge in on her and Hunter tonight. The sight of her leaving with him, headed for a bedroom and to be handled however he saw fit, had ignited a raving protectiveness I’d never guessed existed before tonight.

  If I’d walked in a minute earlier and seen him pinning her down, touching her while she struggled, I think I would have killed him. In that one moment of brief, bright clarity I could no longer deny that I had fallen for her, and hard.

  It was the first time I’d ever been in love and I didn’t have the courage to tell her. No matter how many times I told myself it was the best thing for her, it didn’t quite sit right.

  The party pulsed and expanded, the sounds of loud voices and high-pitched laughter grated my raw nerve endings. All of these people having a great time, never guessing that I was dying inside with every step toward the stairs and solitude. It numbed me.

  “Q, where have you been? I think you lost something.”

  Sebastian snagged my arm at the living room bar. Alison stood at his side in the black dress she’d changed into, her boobs pushed almost out the top, a sweaty fruit drink of some sort sweating in her hand.

  “I got lonely upstairs,” she pouted.

  Jesus, this one wasn’t even a challenge. A cake second serve. I couldn’t let Sebastian know my plans to discuss this debacle with my father, though, and take the chance he’d leak the pictures before I could confess. So I smiled at her. “I’m sorry. There was a situation with one of my guests that demanded my attention.”

  “What?” Suspicion clouded Sebastian’s always-perceptive gaze.

  “Hunter Nance. I don’t want him anywhere near this house again, and if we can find a way to get him out of SEA then we’d all be better off. We don’t need burgeoning rapists in our midst.” Alison sucked in a
quick breath. “I took care of it, Seb, and I’m sure he’s gone.”

  My half brother nodded. “Well, you two have a good time.”

  He wandered out to the deck and I took Alison’s arm. I dropped it as we stepped onto the staircase and once we reached my bedroom, I told her the truth. “You’re a beautiful girl, Alison, and a month ago I would have been jumping at the chance to get to know you better.”

  “But…”

  “But I have to take care of a few things that can’t wait. I need you to either stay here tonight or let me put you in a car without Sebastian knowing you left.”

  Indecision crisscrossed her features, wrinkling her nose. “I’m pretty tired. If you don’t mind, maybe I’ll just crash.”

  “It’s perfectly fine. There’s toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, whatever you need in the bathroom and the closet’s yours. I’m going out on the balcony to make a quick phone call.”

  Alison was already asleep by the time I got off the phone with Veronica. I was scheduled to see my father on Tuesday, which meant keeping Sebastian off the scent for three days. The emotional toll of tonight’s multiple confrontations—with Hunter, with Emilie, with myself—burrowed exhaustion in every bone.

  I took off my shirt and shoes, then stretched out on the far side of the king-sized bed. The gentle light of the moon, the soft swish of the waves, and the deep sound of her breathing put me to sleep.

  ***

  A rapping on the door startled me awake.

  My dreams had been endless voids born of my fatigue and it was hard to remember where I was or figure out how long I’d been out. Alison stirred, mumbling, and I pressed a hand to her shoulder.

  “I’ll get it. Go back to sleep.”

  I padded to the double doors and cracked one open. Toby’s now-crooked nose and worried brown eyes greeted me.

  “This had better be important.”

  “It is.”

  He took a deep breath, summoning courage. After the last time we chatted it made sense, but my impatience rose. “Spit it out, Toby. No one’s going to hit you.”

  Probably. It depended on what he had to say.

  “A bunch of the pledges fucked up the car keys at the valet station and I’ve been outside for a while helping.”

  “I don’t need a blow-by-blow of your night.”

  “Okay. Sorry. When I came in some of the guys were whispering, and they didn’t want to tell me what it was about but finally they did. Emilie’s still here and Sebastian took her up to his room.”

  Fear grabbed my heart and squeezed. “What do you mean, took her?”

  “I mean…” He licked his lips. “They said she wanted to go. She went with him upstairs.”

  After everything that had happened with Hunter and everything Emilie knew about my half-brother’s inclinations, I didn’t see why she would go to his room. If she felt anything like I did, as though a motorcycle brigade had run her over—there was no way revenge sex was still on her mind.

  Apprehension spilled through me, waking me up fully, and my mind raced. She could be in big trouble. Sebastian didn’t care about anyone but himself, but if he thought taking Emilie to bed would hurt me he would do it—and he would be right. None of my actions since Emilie had forced my return from the brink of a permanent alcohol coma had convinced my brother that she was out of my system for good.

  He would figure out how to remove her if he had the chance.

  “How long ago?” I asked Toby, pulling the bedroom door shut behind me.

  The air in the corridor stood the hairs up on my bare chest and I crossed my arms.

  “About thirty minutes.”

  “Thirty minutes? Fuck.”

  “We have to get her out of there, Quinn. I know you don’t care about her but she’s sweet. Sebastian will break her into pieces and use them as olives for his morning Bloody Mary.”

  “I care about her, Toby. I fucking love that girl and Sebastian isn’t breaking anyone.”

  Unless he already had.

  Toby’s mouth fell open. I shoved him to the side and took off down the hall, making two turns before landing at Sebastian’s door. It was unlocked so I shoved it open, trying to prepare myself for what I’d find, knowing that if it was bad, it would haunt me for the rest of my days.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Emilie stood next to the desk, her grape-colored dress hanging around her waist. The bra underneath was lacy and black. A growl emerged from my lips at the sight of the fingerprint bruises on her right boob, and my eyes swept the room for Sebastian.

  He was on the bed in his boxer briefs, sporting a noticeable boner for the gorgeous girl who’d stolen my heart, and his arms were tied to the wooden headboard. In spite of his arousal he glared at both Emilie and me, his gaze sweeping between the two of us.

  “You tricked me. You were in on it,” he spat my direction.

  “What in the hell is going on?” I asked no one in particular.

  “Don’t be mad, Quinn.” Emilie answered, stepping lightly to my side.

  I reached out and tugged the straps of her dress back up on her shoulders. “What are you doing up here with him?”

  “She’s being a stupid fucking bitch, is what she’s doing. Probably learned it from her whore mother.”

  Emilie put a hand on my arm and my tensed muscles relaxed. She turned to my vicious half-brother, cool as can be in the face of his horrible insults. “Now, Sebastian, if you don’t talk nice, I’m going to have to gag you. We’ve discussed this.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “I’m looking for your pictures.” She ignored Seb and moved back to the desk, rummaging in drawers. “I already smashed the shit out of his laptop and iPad. If you want to help, you can get on the Cloud through his phone and make sure they’re not stored there. I know he has a memory stick, too, that’s what I’m checking for now.”

  Awe dropped my jaw, and I knew I looked as dazed and stupid as Toby had in the hallway but I didn’t care. “You brought him up here thinking you’d seduce him and tied him up, then ransacked the place?”

  I definitely did not want to know what took place in order for her dress to be half off and for Seb to agree to let her tie him to the bed. Definitely. Aside from that, I wanted to kiss her until we both passed out from lack of oxygen.

  Instead I grabbed her arm, yanked her against me, and kissed her hard on the mouth. “You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. Mi sopresito, indeed.”

  “Yes, well, I love a good caper. There are still plenty of things you don’t know about me, Quinn Rowland. Like what a good friend I can be in a pinch.”

  She pushed away and something about the way she said the word friend got under my skin. Like she’d made some kind of decision. But I reminded myself this was what I wanted. Her to move on. Me to find a way to make my own way, stand on my own two feet.

  “Where’s his phone?”

  Emilie tossed it to me and I checked Sebastian’s Cloud. The photos weren’t there. I pawed through his closet until I found the three copies of the print versions and reduced them to confetti and flushed them down his toilet.

  “Found it!”

  The black memory stick clutched in Emilie’s fingers was the final remnant of my misdeeds a year ago. I took it from her fingers and stared. It had controlled me for months.

  I turned to Sebastian. “Is this the only one?”

  “I guess you’ll never know.”

  I walked to the edge of the bed, staring down at him with more pity than anything. “Sebastian, listen to me. Tell me the truth and we’ll forget this ever happened. You inherit your trust fund, which is more than enough money to keep you in champagne and whores for the rest of your life. Choose to be an asshole, and I’m keeping this little memory stick and pressing charges. I have plenty of witnesses.”

  Emilie’s intake of breath shook me as it hit my back. I had done the right thing.

  Sebastian glared at me in silence for a few minutes before the inevitable cave. He couldn�
�t live the life of regular people, going to work and paying taxes, and we both knew it. “There’s another memory stick in the sneakers in the closet.”

  It figured. Sebastian had never worn sneakers a day in his life.

  Emilie handed that one over and I smashed them with a paperweight before flushing the pieces of those, too. And I was free.

  ***

  I walked Emilie into the library and poured her a glass of whiskey, which she took and threw back with trembling hands. She stayed on her feet near the door.

  “He could have really hurt you. Don’t ever take a chance like that again. Not for me.”

  “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Quinn Rowland. I’ll take chances on whoever I want.” She smiled to soften her words. “And friends pick you up when you’re down. You needed help dealing with Sebastian and I knew my particular charms could give it to you.”

  “Your particular charms left you half-naked in a room with a raving psychopath, you do realize that.”

  “I was not half-naked, for heaven’s sake. And he was tied up.”

  I dropped the subject, unwilling to fight with her again, not after such a huge weight had been lifted off of me. Nothing had changed, really, from the beach earlier tonight. My life was in less of a shambles, but it still needed to be rebuilt. But my heart was too full, she was too lovely, to not say anything. “The moment I saw you walk off with Hunter tonight I knew I never wanted you to be with anyone else. Ever. And I didn’t want to, either.”

  Her eyes found mine, wide and hopeful. I shook my head, trying to communicate that what she hoped for wasn’t coming. “I would do anything for you. I called my father’s secretary and set up and appointment to tell him everything.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you deserve a good man, Emilie Swanson. And I’m a floundering boy who only just realized how much he has to lose. I know you’re right about this thing between us not going away. But I can’t ask you to be mine unless I’m worthy.” Sorrow tightened my throat. “I know that means I lose you. But this is how it has to be.”