Playing the Game

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Playing the Game Page 18

by L. M. Reid


  “Here’s the deal. You end whatever this thing with you and Hunter is, and I will keep my mouth shut.”

  “He won’t buy it,” I protest. Not because I’m trying to get out of this, but because it’s true. There is no way Hunter will buy that I don’t want to be with him. Not without trying to talk me out of it. Not after what we’ve shared. “And he sure as hell won’t give up that easy.”

  “Figure it out.”

  “Fine,” I reply agreeing to her terms.

  “Fine?” she repeats as though she can’t believe I’m giving in this easily.

  I can’t believe I am either. But she’s right. One of the best things about Hunter is his pristine reputation. It makes him an even hotter commodity than he already is. He would make any team look good on top of him playing his ass off for them. And scandal, even something he isn’t directly involved with could hurt that and any sponsorships he would receive. Not to mention the charity work I know he was hoping that his career would help with.

  “Yes, fine. If that’s what I have to do to protect Hunter…” my voice trails off for a moment as I let the reality sink in that my moment of happiness is about to expire, “then that’s what I will do. After tonight.”

  “You have no room to…”

  “If you know anything about him, you know he isn’t going to let me go without a fight. If I leave before he wakes up, it will be easier. Please, Layla, if you care about him half as much as you say you do, then give him tonight. Then I’ll be gone.”

  “You really do care about him, don’t you?” Once again, she sounds surprised. I’m not sure if she thinks I’m that heartless or that she’s the only one who could possibly love him. Either way, I don’t feel the need to voice my feelings for Hunter to her, so I nod. “If this is some sort of attempt to get me to change my mind, it’s not going to work.”

  “I just want tonight. Then, I’m out of his life forever.”

  “Be gone before he gets up.”

  I nod again.

  This time when I walk to the door, I keep going. I make my way down the hall and straight into Hunter’s arms.

  “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asks as his hand brushes the hair away from my face.

  I fight back the tears. I have plenty of time to cry the minute I walk out of his life for good. For now, I just want to enjoy what little time we have left.

  “I just missed you,” I say as I press a kiss to his lips. “Dance with me?”

  “It would be my pleasure.” He takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor. We say to the slow ballad that’s playing. I’m unfamiliar with the song, but the melody alone has those tears threatening again. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

  I hold him a little tighter. “Everything is perfect.”

  At least for now.

  Chapter 32

  Hunter

  Reaching for my phone on the nightstand, I grab it and check the time. Two hours until we have to leave. That’s plenty of time.

  I smile as I roll over, ready to reenact every single solitary moment from last night. Quinn was utter perfection. The way she moved the way she moaned. Everything about last night felt like a mixture of the first time and the last time.

  My hands reach for her, the bed empty.

  Throwing back the covers, I get out of bed and make my way to the bathroom door. I knock softly. “Can I come in?”

  No response.

  I knock a little louder. “Quinn?”

  Still, nothing.

  I push open the door without permission. The bathroom is empty. I glance back looking onto the balcony. She isn’t there either.

  In fact, there isn’t a trace of her left in the room.

  There’s a sinking feeling in my gut that something’s off. Something is wrong. With my phone in my hand, I call her. No answer. I call again. Nothing. The texts I send don’t get a reply. I slide on a pair of sweats and a shirt and hurry down to Mason’s room. I bang on the door until the hungover asshole wakes up.

  The door opens and Mason stands before me looking sleep drugged. “What the hell is going on?”

  “I can’t find Quinn. She won’t answer my calls. Something’s wrong.”

  I storm past Mason and into his room not caring what woman he might have in his bed. This is more important. Quinn is more important.

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” Mason says as he shuts the door behind me. “She probably has her phone silenced. I’m sure she just went to get breakfast or something.”

  Sure, it’s a possibility, a good possibility even, but I don’t think that’s it. Something isn’t right, I can feel it.

  “No. That’s not it. I have a bad feeling Mason.” A really bad feeling. Like she’s gone. She left me.

  “Just take a breath. Relax,” he tells me. If the tables were turned, if this was Avery, he wouldn’t be so calm.

  He dials Quinn’s number. No answer.

  Though I’m not surprised. If she is unwilling to face me, there is no way she’ll face Mason.

  “Let’s just get home. I’m sure when we get there she’ll be sitting on the couch, frustrated that she did what she did.”

  The feeling of his hand on my shoulder, his attempt to comfort me, doesn’t help.

  “I’m heading to the airport to see if I can get an earlier flight.”

  I slam my stuff angrily into my suitcase as I try to figure out what the fuck happened. How we went from making love and professing our feelings to her running on me. Was it too much, too soon? Did she panic? Or was it something else?

  The more I think about it, the more it dawns on me how she had seemed off to me last night, during the reception. She went to the bathroom and when she came back, I swear there were tears in her eyes though she denied it.

  Still, she hugged me a little tighter. Kissed me a little deeper.

  What the hell happened?

  “What time’s your flight?”

  My head snaps in the direction of the voice. A very familiar voice. There’s a smile on her face as she steps into the room.

  “What did you do?” I shout at Layla.

  “What do you mean?” She feigns innocence in asking the question, but I know better. She wouldn’t be here right now if she thought Quinn were still here. And if she knows Quinn isn’t here, there’s a damn good chance that she’s the reason behind it all.

  “What did you do to Quinn? Did you say something to her? Threaten her?” I stalk toward Layla with a menacing look on my face.

  “I… I don’t… Hunter,” she exclaims as I slam my hand on the wall next to her head.

  “What did you do?”

  Tears stream down her face, fear in her eyes. “I didn’t do it. She did. Ask her.”

  That’s exactly what I intend to do.

  The minute the plane lands back in Remington I head straight home. But not to my apartment, to Mason’s.

  ***

  “Quinn,” I shout as I walk into the apartment that I thankfully have a set of keys to. “Quinn.”

  I storm toward her room, my hand shoving the door open.

  Aside from the bed, it’s empty.

  She’s gone.

  She’s really gone.

  “Is she here?” Mason asks as he steps into the room Quinn has occupied for the last few weeks.

  “She’s gone.”

  Chapter 33

  Quinn

  It’s been two weeks since I left the Bahamas. Two long, excruciating weeks since I walked away from the best thing that ever happened to me – Hunter Adams.

  Since then, I’ve been moping and sobbing on Claire’s couch because staying with Mason put me in a proximity that was way too close to Hunter. Not to mention, Mason isn’t exactly thrilled with me right now. That might actually be an underestimation. He’s livid. With right. Not only have I been lying to him, but I’ve also hurt his best friend.

  And I’ve done all of this without so much as an explanation.

  What a mess.

  It’s b
etter this way, I keep telling myself. It’s better because Hunter, he deserves better. He deserves someone whose past won’t destroy his future. Still, his words keep running through my head. The ones telling me that nothing will ever change how he feels about me.

  Here and now.

  It’s all he cares about.

  It’s all I care about too. But when the past can rear its ugly head and potentially destroy the here and now, it’s better to just walk away.

  The thing I still haven’t been able to figure out though, is what the deal with Layla is. Why she would cheat on him, then threaten me to get me away from him? Had she not cheated on him, then I would have never been an issue. They would have been living out their happily ever after. So why go through all of this? For what?

  Claire walks through the door to her apartment breaking me of my thoughts.

  “Hey,” I say in greeting.

  “Here,” she replies as she drops an envelope on my lap. “I see you still haven’t moved off the couch.”

  “I’ll get out of your hair soon,” I promise her.

  Claire turns and looks at me. “You know I love having you here, Q. But I hate seeing you like this. You need to talk to Hunter. You need to figure out whatever the hell happened between you two.”

  “There’s nothing to figure out,” I tell her.

  I slide my finger under the seal and open the envelope. I recognize the handwriting immediately – Mason.

  Quinn,

  I know we're not on the best of terms right now, but when I saw this, I couldn’t resist. Take the ticket, go to the show, and seize your opportunity. You deserve more than you realize.

  Love,

  Mason

  “Who’s it from?” Claire asks.

  “Mason,” I reply.

  I grab the ticket that had been folded up in the envelope. My mouth drops open.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a ticket to Mike Flannigan’s show – tonight.” I contain the shriek of excitement that bubbles up in me. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe he would do this.”

  “Are you going to go?”

  I look at the ticket, the opportunity Mason is giving me despite all the screw ups that I’ve made.

  Maybe it’s time that I quit feeling sorry for myself, that I quit letting the past affect my future. Hunter is safe now. I can finally face my demons, make my atonements, and move on. Make something out of myself and be what Mason always thought I was – better than our mother, better than the hand we were dealt.

  “Hell yeah, I am,” I say as I get up from the couch for the first time in what feels like forever and head to the bedroom to figure out what the hell I’m going to wear.

  Chapter 34

  Hunter

  My eyes dart around the crowded room. I know she’s here; I just have to find her.

  There is no way in hell she would have been able to resist the ticket to the show, even had it just unexpectedly appeared on her doorstep without so much as an explanation. Just to seal the deal though, I enclosed a letter. It was from me, but I had Mason write it knowing that she wouldn’t take anything from me.

  Mike Flannigan is her photographic hero.

  She’s here. I just need to find her.

  I grab a drink off the tray of the server passing by me. From what I can see, the guy is talented. Personally, I think Quinn’s work is better. I might be a little biased though.

  A couple people stop me to chat. People I know, one I didn’t, none of them the person that I actually want to talk to.

  Weeks of avoidance, weeks of not telling me the truth are about to come to an end. They have to because I’m not sure how much more I can take of this. Quinn Ford disappeared from my life just as quickly as she stormed into it. Thing is, I’m not done with her yet. I don’t think I ever will be. Something tells me that she isn’t either.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her. She’s standing before a photograph of an ocean. A woman standing in the sand, her hair blowing in the wind. While I am not much of an art expert, I can clearly see the pain radiating from the woman. Though that might have something to do with the woman who is gazing at it. The woman whose pain I know in great detail. The one I want to hold and help heal and be there for because while she may refuse to acknowledge it, she’s amazing.

  I move slowly through the room and step behind her. There’s enough distance that I’m not touching her, but I’m still close enough to feel her. Christ, how I’ve missed her.

  “I think this one is my favorite,” I say.

  Her body stills. Motionless she stands there, staring ahead refusing to acknowledge my presence.

  “The person looking at it is even better, though.”

  She turns, slowly, her eyes meeting mine for only a second before darting away. Much like she tries to do with her polite, “Excuse me.” The one I refute by stepping in her path and refusing to let her by.

  “I’ve let you go once, Quinn. I won’t do it again,” I tell her.

  “You don’t have a choice,” she says trying to push past me again. When I don’t budge, she becomes angry. “If you don’t move, I’m going to cause a scene.”

  “Cause one, then, because I’m not moving,” I reply. I’m calling her bluff and I sure as hell hope I’m right about this. Not that I care much about the attention or people looking, they’re going to anyway. “We have unfinished business.”

  “Me walking out the door, that was me finishing it.”

  I nod, accepting her bullshit reply. “The least you owe me is an explanation.”

  “I don’t owe you anything. I was there doing you a favor. I did it. I left.”

  Another futile attempt to move past me. “We can keep playing this game, or you can just tell me the truth. Why did you leave, Quinn?”

  “Because I was done with you. Satisfied?”

  I laugh. “I would be if it were the truth. Try again.”

  “Not here,” she says. This time when she moves, I allow her. What I don’t allow is for her to get very far. My fingers reach for her, brushing against her back, to let her know that I’m following, and I don’t intend on going anywhere.

  She stops abruptly and turns to me. We’re alone now in a secluded room. “You did this didn’t you? You set me up.”

  “Did I give you the ticket? Yes. It was meant to be yours. I had planned on the two of us attending together. Regardless of the fact that you left me without so much as a goodbye, I still felt you should be here.”

  “Well, I am. You can feel free to go now.”

  An exasperated sigh escapes me. Every fiber of me wants to yell at her, to somehow get through her thick skull that I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. And I don’t just mean the show, but in her life.

  How do you convince someone of that when everyone in their life that was supposed to love them – abandoned them?

  “I’m not going anywhere, Quinn. Not now. Not ever. I’m in this for the long haul. You just have to let me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not? Tell me what I have to do, and I’ll do it.”

  “I’m doing this for you, Hunter.”

  How in the hell is keeping us apart doing anything for me except hurting me? As much as I would like to call bullshit, I can tell by the look in her eyes that it isn’t.

  “There you two are.” My mother’s voice breaks through the silence filling the air. “Come now, Quinn, we want to introduce you to the man himself.”

  Quinn’s eyes plead with me to get her out of this situation, to help her. I am helping her though, the best way I know how. Whether or not she wants to be with me, this is her chance. An opportunity for her to pursue the one thing that I am certain she loves. Instead of speaking up and asking my mother to leave us alone, I step to the side. I allow my mother to take her hand and lead her away as I follow.

  “Mike, darling,” my mother says. “I want you to meet someone.”

  The man standing with my father laughing, suddenly
stops when his eyes fall on Quinn. “And who do we have here?”

  “This is the young woman I was telling you about, Quinn Ford. She’s exceptionally talented and I think would be a wonderful intern for you,” my mother gushes.

  Quinn’s cheeks flush at the compliment. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Flannigan. I absolutely love your work.”

  He nods his head toward one of his photos. “What about this one? What do you think of it?”

  Quinn’s head turns to the side as she studies it. “It’s striking. You’ve really managed to catch the essence of…”

  While she studies the photo, I study her. Her poise, her knowledge, her body. Each one another reason to add to the pile of reasons for why I admire and love her. Because I do love her. And not being with her, not seeing where this could go, it’s killing me.

  “You have quite an eye,” Mike’s deep voice says breaking my thoughts. “I would love to pick your brain more and see your work. Could we meet on Monday at my studio?”

  “Yes, I’d love that,” Quinn says. Her voice is filled with a tempered excitement, not the squeal that I am certain she would prefer to let out.

  “I’ll see you then,” he says. “If you’ll excuse me, I have buyers to schmooze.”

  Quinn turns to my parents, her eyes welling with tears. “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Adams. You’ve made my dream come true.”

  “And you’ve made ours as well,” my mother says as she pats her hand against Quinn’s arm. “We’ll see you two later.”

  When they’re gone, Quinn turns to me. “You didn’t tell them?” I shake my head. “Why not?”

  “I was holding out hope,” I admit.

  “Hunter.”

  “I’ll make you a deal.” She folds her arms in front of her as she stares at me. “If you tell me why, the real reason why, I will leave you alone for good. If that’s what you want.” My hand touches her cheek. “Please, Quinn. It’s killing me. Do you have any idea how pathetic I looked standing in the corner over there pining away for you?”

  A smile cracks through her stoic façade. “I thought you didn’t pine?”

 

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