The Duets

by Quinn, Meghan

  I don’t even know why he’d bid on them.

  Not that I know much, but what I do know is I wouldn’t throw down one hundred thousand dollars on a pair of eights thinking I’m going to take everything.

  My feet are killing me. I’m bored out of my mind, and I’m hoping Donovan wants to leave soon with his dignity still intact, because this girl is over it.

  “A pair of eights? I thought you were better than that,” a man with a mustache says from across the table, stacking the chips he just took from Donovan.

  Not saying a word, Donovan rubs his hand down his face and abruptly stands. “I’m out.”

  “So soon?” Mustache asks.

  Donovan grips my side and pulls me into his body. “It’s been fun, but I’d rather spend the rest of the night fucking my girlfriend.” The crude way he says it does nothing for my libido. Instead, it actually turns me off. I nearly sneer, but I hold a steady look instead.

  Mustache looks me up and down and nods. “I can appreciate that. Boys, cash our friend out, he has some other type of playing around to do tonight.”

  Leaning into me, Donovan presses a kiss against my temple and says, “Wait for me by the door while I cash out.” Sliding his hand down my back to my butt, he squeezes it, hard. “When we get to my room, I’ll make this night up to you. I promise.”

  Stepping away, he puts distance between us, and all eyes fall on me, so I walk toward the door where I feel the security guards are also watching every move I make. Feeling really uncomfortable and also glad I wore this dress to hide some of my body from the prying eyes, I take out my phone from my purse to distract myself. That’s when I see a text from Sage.

  I quickly open it.

  Sage: Sorry to bother you, I’m sure you’re working, but I was wondering if you were free for breakfast tomorrow morning. Early.

  Immediately my mind goes to Colby and I start to wonder if everything is okay with him. If he was in an accident, Sage wouldn’t be texting me, right? If he were seriously injured, I would not hear about it over breakfast, would I?

  Curious, I type her back.

  Ryan: Is everything okay?

  She texts back immediately. Thankfully, it gives me something to do while I wait for Donovan.

  Sage: Sort of. I just need someone to talk to other than my stupid brother and Rowdy who are basically useless.

  Ryan: Okay, sure. What time were you thinking?

  Sage: Would you hate me if I said seven? I’ll come to you. I can even bring breakfast to your apartment. Name what you want and I’ll have it fresh and hot at seven on your doorstep.

  Seven. Ouch. I’m so not a morning person and seven might kill me. And tonight from the look in Donovan’s eyes and the promise in his voice, I won’t be going to sleep anytime soon.

  But she needs someone to talk to . . .

  Ryan: I’m at my boyfriend’s tonight, so how about we meet at the Hash House at seven? Does that work?

  Sage: Gah, I love it there. Yes, that works perfectly. Thank you so much.

  Ryan: Not a problem.

  “Are you ready?” Donovan asks, walking up to me.

  “Mm-hmm.” I nod, stuffing my phone back in my purse.

  “Good, because I have plans for you tonight, and they can’t wait much longer.”

  Biting on my bottom lip, I contemplate going home instead, wanting to try to get in some good sleep before breakfast tomorrow. What would Donovan say? I have clothes at his place he brought in so I didn’t have to do the walk of shame after staying the night at his place, but still, I’d prefer to go home tonight.

  Once we’re out of earshot and walking through the buzzing casino, slot machines and gamblers drowning out my voice, I say, “I think I might go home—”

  “What?” His face falls and genuine disappointment crosses over his features. “Ryan, you can’t go home.” He pulls me in tight and starts moving his lips across my neck, sending chills up and down my body. “I planned on worshipping your body.” His hand goes to my ass and he squeezes it. His other hand holds me close, as he tries to convince me with his mouth. “Stay with me tonight, please.”

  Shit.

  This isn’t the first time he’s done this, begged me with his lips, using this soft voice that suggests there is more to him than a powerful rich man in expensive suits and loafers. It makes me believe there’s another person underneath his fancy layers, and that he’s masquerading as someone he really isn’t.

  Like a high-stakes poker player.

  It reminds me of the Donovan I first met who wanted to show me a good time with a simple plate and fork.

  And that’s why I go to his room instead of going home. It’s why I strip down, wearing absolutely nothing as he feasts his eyes on me. And it’s why I end up with his head between my legs, hand in his hair, allowing him to once again, try to help me forget the world around me.

  * * *

  I slip out of the bathroom, showered, wet hair, and fully dressed, my eyes blurry from practically no sleep and my muscles sore from every position Donovan tried last night.

  He was relentless, almost as if he was trying to forget as well.

  We fucked and slept and fucked and slept, never fully getting the kind of sleep that rests and recharges your body. Instead, it was little catnaps. And every time he started back up again, every time he pressed his erection against me, I would spin over ready to take whatever he wanted to do with me.

  And it felt good.

  Despite how tired I am, or how weird last night was at the poker table, or how sore my body is, last night was just what I needed to prepare myself for this morning. It was a good reminder that even though it feels like my heart has turned into a block of coal, at least someone in my life values me . . . or at least my body. The body I’ve worked what feels like a lifetime to have.

  In a pair of shorts and a simple tank top, I snag a pair of wedges from the closet and walk over to Donovan where I give him a kiss on the cheek before grabbing my phone and purse. The guy sleeps like a log after a night filled with sex. Hell, I wish I was back in that bed right now as well.

  Downstairs, I call an Uber and look through the text messages on my phone while I wait the two minutes.

  Leah: Tyler wants to go out to dinner Friday night with you and Donovan. Are you guys available?

  We both have work so this is either going to be a late dinner or a really early one. I’ll talk to her about it tonight.

  Dad: Hey boo bear. Have you picked a time to come visit the old man, yet? Ask about some time off soon. I really want to see you.

  I miss my dad so much, and I promised I would visit, but I don’t know when I’ll get the time. And then there’s my mom. If I visit my dad, I have to visit my mom, and that’s torture.

  Sage: Hash House better have a ton of coffee.

  I chuckle and text her back before going to the last text.

  Ryan: Hopefully I don’t drink it all before you do.

  I move my finger to the last text and pause. I shouldn’t open it, I really shouldn’t, not with who I’m about to have breakfast with, but just the short preview has me itching to read it.

  Should I?

  Shit, there is no way I can stop myself.

  Colby: Hey Ryan. I wanted to let you know I made it to Colorado Springs a couple of days ago. We’ve started training, doing aerial maneuvers with pilots from other squadrons, mainly from Luke. The mountains make it tricky, which is why we’re here to practice. I hate that I left with things so unresolved. I hate that we didn’t get a proper goodbye, and I fucking hate the tension between us. I miss you. I miss my best friend. I’m so goddamn sorry for everything, and I really hope we can make it through this, because I need you in my life, Ryan. I need you.

  Tears of frustration and sadness start to well in my eyes as my Uber driver pulls up to the curb in a red Toyota Camry. I hop in and quickly say hi before looking out the window, trying to calm the erratic beat of my heart. But Colby’s words hit me hard.

  I w
ould love to get back to the people we were before everything went down, before our argument, but I also know the person I was before the fight was someone who was madly in love with her best friend. I can’t stand by his side—be the person he wants me to be for him—when I want to wrap my hand around his neck and pull him down to my mouth. When I want to spend hours in his bed, with his arms wrapped around me, and enjoy his eyes staring into mine.

  I want what we had that one night, but I want that to be our forever.

  It doesn’t take very long for the Uber driver to drop me off, and before I know it, Sage is walking toward me looking as perfectly put together as usual. Tan conservative pants, a sweet, yellow button-up blouse, cute heels, and her white-blonde hair neatly frames her beautiful face.

  This is who Colby chose.

  No wonder he didn’t want me.

  I hate her, but I like her. What a fucking mess.

  “Ryan.” She comes up to me and gives me a big hug, her perfume fresh and inviting, her embrace warm and comforting. Yup, she’s the definition of perfect without even trying. “Thank you so much for meeting with me.”

  “Of course.” I swallow hard and walk into the restaurant, letting the hostess know it’s only the two of us.

  Once we’re seated, menus placed in front of us, and a fresh glass of water each, I ask, “Is everything okay?”

  Setting the menu down, she folds her hands in her lap and shakes her head.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s um, Colby.”

  My stomach drops, and my breath hitches in my chest, fright consuming me in an instant. “What do you mean? Is he okay?” I have an immediate urge to check my phone to see what time he texted me.

  “Oh no, he’s okay.” She leans over and squeezes my hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that. We’re kind of going through a rough patch.”

  My forehead creases as my brows draw together. Sage and Colby going through a rough patch? Why is that incredibly hard for me to believe? They just got engaged, so shouldn’t they be in this phase of their life where everything is beautiful and wonderful and nothing could ever touch them? And they’re so good together, so what could they possibly fight about?

  Being a little cautious, I ask, “What kind of rough patch?”

  “Have we decided what we’re going to get?” the waitress asks, interrupting a very important question.

  We order quickly and once she’s out of earshot, Sage says, “I don’t know, but things have been weird between us lately. I feel like there are things he’s not telling me, things that have happened to him in the past. He’s really sensitive about his airplanes.” Oh shit, has Colby not told her about his stepdad? Apparently not. “And he seems so distracted. He doesn’t care to help with the wedding and our conversations at night aren’t what they used to be. I feel like he’s drifting, and I don’t know how to reel him back in.” She plays with her fork, keeping her eyes trained down. “We haven’t really been intimate lately, our goodbye felt forced, and I’m nervous he’s going through something and not telling me.”

  My skin prickles with fear, my body immediately starting to break out in a sweat as my mind starts to wander to the reasons why they’re having problems. The main reason being me, and that thought causes my stomach to roll.

  I don’t ever want to be that person, the one who gets in the middle of a couple. I’ve never condoned cheating and will never be the other woman. It’s one of the reasons I’ve tried to distance myself, because I don’t want to influence Colby in making a decision he might regret later on.

  I refuse to be that woman.

  And yet, right now, with Colby swirling in my head, all I can think about is how I might unintentionally be that other woman.

  “The intimate part is on me, but not because I haven’t wanted to be with him. Believe me, I want him more than anything. It’s just, he seems so empty inside. The last time we were together physically, it didn’t feel like he was connected, but like his mind was elsewhere. I hated every second of it. It’s almost like he’s hollow.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what to do, Ryan, I thought maybe you could give me some insight.”

  Panic.

  Panic consumes me. My leg bounces, my heart races.

  I didn’t do anything wrong. I kept my distance. I never once acted on my feelings.

  “Uh, I mean, I don’t really know what to tell you,” I answer vaguely, unsure of how much to admit to her. “Colby and I haven’t really been speaking lately.”

  She perks up, a sense of relief washing over her. “Oh my gosh, why didn’t I think about it sooner? Of course he’s acting weird, because you two haven’t been talking. Are you . . . fighting?”

  Why is this the most awkward conversation I’ve ever had? I’m sweaty, nervous, and I’m on the verge of blurting out my feelings for the world to hear.

  “We just said some things to each other . . .” I shrug my shoulders, not wanting to get into it.

  “Were they bad?”

  I take a sip of my water. “They weren’t great.”

  “That’s it.” She lets out a long breath and leans back in her chair. “Gosh, I wish I’d known you guys had a little falling out. I would have helped mend things.” Little falling out? She’s totally clueless. How is that possible? “. . . I know how much he cares for you, and I can see why it would throw his life off a bit. If Rocky or even Rowdy were mad at me, I don’t know what I would do.”

  “Rowdy?” I ask, a little perplexed.

  She nods. “Yeah. Especially during these past couple of days with Colby gone, he’s been there to lean on. I don’t like it when I’m fighting with people, so I can see how it’s throwing Colby off. I just wish he would have talked to me about it.”

  “He probably didn’t want to worry you,” I spout off, not really sure what to say but trying to be reassuring.

  “We’ve both been super stressed with the wedding and with this being our first time apart since we became a couple.” She chuckles to herself. “Boy, did we start out with a bang.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s just a bump in the road.” I do not want to know how they started off with a bang. I mean, I know they did, because Colby told me all about it. But at that point, I could deal with it. At that point, I hadn’t realized I loved him. My answers now? Predictable. I feel like I’m on autopilot.

  “Is there any way I can make things better between you and Colby?” She’s so damn sweet she almost seems fake, but I know she’s not. It’s her personality, who she is, the perpetually nice girl. Makes me feel like Satan’s mistress most of the time.

  “I don’t want you to get in the middle.”

  She slouches, defeat in her shoulders. “But will you try to fix it? He’s not the same, Ryan, and I’m nervous.”

  Shit.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  Want to talk about a rock and a hard place.

  Be friends with the man you’re in love with to help ease the tension in his soon-to-be marriage, or keep distancing yourself in order to save your own heart, but ruin someone else’s in the meantime. Most people would vote for self-preservation, especially when it comes to love.

  I want to be most people.

  But I also want Colby to be happy, and I know he’s happy with Sage. I’ve fucked with his head but not on purpose. I’ve tried to do the right thing, to step away, but it doesn’t seem like that’s an option.

  I don’t want to let Sage down, because she doesn’t deserve that. I don’t want Colby to be upset anymore, and have his mind on anything other than flying safe. And I don’t want to be the reason why things are weird between the two of them.

  Why do I feel like the universe is slowly trying to test my willpower? It’s like every day it comes up with a new form of torture, today’s delight being a whopper.

  Make up and be the friend you’re supposed to be with the man who owns your soul.

  Should be incredibly easy and not heartbreaking at all to watch him marry someo
ne else in a winter wonderland in the mountains.

  Should be easy.

  I reach across the table and reassure Sage with a squeeze to her hand. “I’ll call him tonight, see if I can get things straightened out.”

  “Seriously?”

  I nod.

  She squeals.

  I want to stab myself in the eyeball.

  “Thank you so much, Ryan.”

  I smile, flat-lipped. “Of course. Now”—I take a deep breath—“tell me about the wedding so far.”

  Keep it together.

  Don’t cry.

  Deep breath.

  Chapter Ninety-Eight

  COLBY

  “Want another piece?”

  “Sure.”

  Bent hands me another slice of pizza from across the king-sized bed of my hotel room. It was a long fucking day of flying followed by an even longer debrief that went far past two hours. My mind is shit, and once we left Peterson, all I wanted to do was watch mindless TV and eat a fucking pizza.

  And that’s exactly what we’re doing.

  In the small confines of my hotel room, surrounded by versions of brown and red, a flat-screen on the wall in front of us, and a pizza between us, we veg.

  To me, it’s one of the easiest ways to de-stress. That and having sex, but given my fiancée is in Las Vegas, sex isn’t an option.

  I spoke with Sage on the way back to the hotel. She asked how my day went, and strangely, didn’t once talk about the wedding, but was more interested in how I was doing. I felt like a massive dick talking to her on the phone. I kept apologizing for my behavior before I left, but she pushed it to the side, saying she understood and that everything between us was good, even though it didn’t feel like it was. It felt like something was off, and I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  “How’s the wedding planning coming along?” Bent asks.

  I shrug and take a bite of my pizza. “Fine, I guess. Haven’t really talked about it lately.”