Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
NOAH
“What the fuck?” I muttered to myself. I stared down at my phone after I finished playing Sasha’s message.
Just then, Dallas appeared in the doorway to my office. His eyes arced around the room, a crease forming between his brows when he looked back at me. “Who were you talking to?”
“My phone,” I said, holding it up.
“What’s up?” He walked in quickly, stopping in front of my desk.
“Sasha just left me a message and said we needed to take a break.”
“Out of nowhere?”
I nodded slowly.
“Did something happen?” he prompted.
I leaned back in my chair, restlessly drumming my fingertips on the armrest. “I think so. Remember how I mentioned Quinn’s dad called yesterday?”
Dallas nodded briskly. “Yeah, and you said you were going to tell Sasha.”
“I did, and she got upset. I didn’t think it was this kind of upset.”
“You should probably talk to her.”
Galvanized, I stood from my desk. I didn’t know why Sasha was so upset, but I wasn’t going to sit on this. Roughly a half an hour later, I was at her apartment. She was maintaining a cool silence.
In contrast, Quinn had things to say. “So Mom has an opinion.”
“What’s that?” I countered lightly, wishing I had reconsidered my plan to come over. We didn’t need an audience for this conversation.
“I guess my dad’s not supposed to call you about anything to do with me. Only she’s in charge of that. You know, boundaries and stuff.” Quinn’s tone was snide, and I wanted to tell her to cut it out. But now definitely wasn’t the time.
Sasha’s shoulders were held in a tense line as she stood at the kitchen counter, emptying the dishwasher. “Quinn, do you mind if I talk to your mom privately?”
That seemed to give her pause as her eyes bounced uncertainly from me to her mother and back again. “Why?”
“Because I would like to speak to your mother privately,” I explained the obvious.
“If it’s about me, I should be here.” Quinn twisted her lips with a little smirk.
Quinn generally wasn’t that annoying as a teenager. She had her moments, but this one was definitely the most frustrating of my experience.
“It’s not about you.” Which was true. I’d mishandled the situation, and Quinn’s involvement in it was secondary.
Quinn eyed me suspiciously, but she finally shrugged. “Fine.” She flounced out of the kitchen and down the hallway. I waited until I heard her door shut.
“Sasha—” I began.
“Now really isn’t a good time. Trust me, she can hear us from her bedroom.”
“Can I at least apologize?”
Sasha turned to face me, finally looking me in the eye for more than a passing glance. Her gaze was shuttered. Everything about her screamed that she had her walls firmly in place.
“I overstepped. I shouldn’t have even talked to her dad. I should’ve just called you and told you.”
She blinked at me. She and Quinn shared that habit, blinking when they were thinking hard.
My heart twisted in my chest. I was in love with Sasha, and I also loved Quinn.
In mere months, the two of them felt indispensable in my life.
I would do anything to make sure they were okay, to keep them safe.
“What is it?” I heard myself asking, pressing ahead even though I probably shouldn’t.
“I appreciate your apology, but I need some time.”
I heard Quinn’s door opening, followed by the bathroom door closing a few seconds later. “Can we have lunch together tomorrow?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
“I’ll call you.”
“Sasha, please.”
“I’ll call you,” she repeated.
Because she seemed to have a sixth sense, Quinn came out of the bathroom and back into the kitchen. This girl, who spent most evenings in her bedroom unless prodded by us, plopped down at the kitchen table with her laptop. “Mom, I need some help with math,” she announced.
I opened my mouth to offer to help. Because Sasha hated math. I didn’t mind math. Not that I thought I was better at it, but I had, in fact, helped Quinn with her math homework several times.
When I looked at Sasha, she simply shook her head, just barely.
Quinn looked at me. “I think that means you’re supposed to leave. She overreacts like this sometimes.”
Sasha’s expression turned stony. I wanted, badly, to cross the kitchen and pull her into my arms and melt her anger away. I didn’t want to leave, but I wasn’t going to make a scene in front of Quinn, so I said, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
For the first time in months, I didn’t spend the night with Sasha curled up warm beside me, her silky skin pressed against mine.
Hours later, I lay in my own bed, missing Sasha acutely and feeling frustrated. I punched my pillows because I couldn’t get them right. Restless, I reached for my phone and typed out a quick text to her.
Me: To reiterate, I’m sorry. I’m not exactly sure how I screwed up so badly, but please talk to me.
Sasha: I’ll call when I’m ready.