Chapter 16
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
Charli
I was a total bitch to him.
I know it.
It’s all I’ve thought about since Sunday.
I wasn’t really meaning to, but my defenses were high after waking up in his sleeping bag, having slept better than I have in I don’t even know how long.
Never mind the fact I hate cuddling—or at least I thought I did.
But snuggling in the sleeping bag with Quinn not only helped me sleep like a baby but was more comfortable than I ever thought it could be.
Dammit.
Because of that amazing cuddle experience, I’ve thought of nothing else since it happened two days ago.
Now, it’s Tuesday and I’m frustrated once more.
Why? See previous statement, please. I’ve thought of only Quinn and the feel of being in his arms. Sure, it started out with me just lying on his arm as we got comfortable and drifted off to sleep, but sometime throughout the night, his other hand wrapped firmly around my waist and his body cocooned mine in the most perfect way.
It was hot, sure, but I didn’t seem to mind, and that’s what is so damn concerning.
Sighing, I move about my massage studio, setting it up for my next client.
I have two more after this one and then am off for the rest of the day.
Once the room is ready, I step out into the main salon and park it behind the counter to wait.
I pull out my phone, cueing up my schedule.
It’s pretty busy the rest of the week too, and I’m incredibly grateful for the loyal clientele and business I’ve built over the last several years.
I look at the date, something niggling in the back of my mind.
Oh.
Oh!
That’s why I’ve been extra moody and bitchy the last few days. Aunt Flo’s supposed to make her monthly visit.
Actually, she was supposed to appear yesterday, if my math is correct. I close my eyes for a moment and picture my packet of pills. I know I started the placebo week on Sunday, which means I should have started yesterday. I take my pill every morning, like clockwork, and am incredibly regular.
Maybe it’s stress. I’ve been told that can affect your menstrual cycle, even when you’re on birth control. I don’t know, but before I can dive too far in figuring this out, the door opens and my next appointment arrives.
“When you’re ready, I’ll be out at the front counter.
Take your time,” I tell Mrs. Swanson, one of the bank tellers down the street.
It’s just after six o’clock, and she’s my final appointment of the day, and as I slip out of my studio, I start to feel the weight of the day settle on my shoulders and in my limbs.
I’m suddenly exhausted.
“If you’re okay with it, I’ll give Roy your cell number. He can call you and discuss that project,” Jenn says to her client.
I glance to my left and stop in my tracks when I see who’s sitting in her chair.
“I’m a little busy the next couple of weeks with spring planting, but it’ll level out after that and I should be able to help him,” Quinn says.
As if sensing eyes on him, he turns and meets my gaze. A shiver sweeps through me as his eyes rake over me from head to toe. It’s a slow caress I can feel as if he were physically touching me.
“Hey, Charli,” Jenn says, breaking the spell I seem to be under.
“Hi,” I respond, clearing my throat and once again moving to the counter.
Once I reach it, my studio door opens and Mrs. Swanson steps out. “I feel so refreshed,” she announces as she approaches.
“I’m glad,” I reply, grabbing a bottle of water to hand her. “Remember to drink plenty of water for the rest of today and take it easy.”
“I will, Charli. Thank you so much for squeezing me in,” she replies, handing over my payment and tip.
“Of course! Happy to help,” I say, slipping my money into my bag in the drawer. “Have a good evening.”
“You too,” she replies, slipping out the front entrance.
I lock my bag in the drawer and return to my room, ready to get everything cleaned up so I can head home.
Just before I cross the threshold, I glance to my right.
Jenn is talking to Quinn, and while his eyes are straight ahead to the mirror, I know he’s watching me.
Out of the corner of his eye, he’s tracking my movements.
He’s done it for years, and while I’ve never really paid attention to it, I knew it was happening.
I just ignored it.
Scooping up the dirty bedding to take to my laundry bag in the back, I try to forget about his presence as I walk by. Jenn is talking, brushing off his neck and ears with a brush, having completed his haircut. I have to stop myself from walking over and blowing on his neck.
And then licking it.
However, I keep walking, bending over to drop the bedding in my bag and wincing as the contents in my hands push against my boobs.
They’re definitely swollen and incredibly sore, a sign my period should be here very soon.
I hope so. I’m tired, bloated, have sore boobs, am irritable, and ready to start feeling a touch normal.
Grabbing the laundry bag, I slowly make my way back toward my room. Quinn stands up and follows Jenn to the counter. Keeping my eyes on the task at hand, I slip inside my room while he pays for his cut and finish sanitizing the table.
“Hey.”
I glance behind me and find Quinn filling the doorway. “Hi.”
“All done for the day?”
I nod before finishing up the sanitizing. When I toss the cloth in the trash and close my cabinet, I turn to face him. My eyes are drawn to his hair, which looks soft and makes my fingers long to slide through the silky strands. “Your hair looks nice.”
Lame, Charli.
He gives me a wink, and his reply isn’t what I expect. “Wanna grab something to eat?”
Yes.
“No, thanks. I need to get home and throw the bedding in the washer.”
He nods. “Okay.”
Just as he turns, preparing to leave, I blurt out, “Wait.” He stops, meeting my gaze.
“Listen, I wanted to apologize for Sunday.” I twist my fingers together, but keep my head held high.
“I was a total crabby bitch to you, and you didn’t deserve that.
I do appreciate you letting me crash in your tent with you. ”
“No worries, Charli. I know you’re not a morning person,” he replies, the corner of his kissable mouth ticking upward.
“True, but still, that’s no excuse. What I said, you know, about me sleeping with you—”
“As much as I love watching you squirm right now, it’s not necessary.”
“Yes, it is!” I insist, getting frustrated all over again.
“Why do you have to push my buttons so damn much? I’m trying to apologize for being a bitch to you, and you’re all ‘it’s fine.
’ It’s not fine, dammit. You didn’t deserve what I said to you, and I feel terrible for it.
I know you weren’t bringing me coffee for sex, and this is no excuse, but my period makes me extra sometimes, and that’s all that was.
” I suck in a deep breath. “So, I’m sorry. ”
Grinning, he steps forward until he’s invading my personal space. I don’t hate it either, having him this close to me. Yes, that annoys me.
He places both hands on my upper arms, holding me in place. Leaning forward, he presses a firm kiss to my forehead. “Apology accepted.” After a beat, he adds, “Period, huh? Need some caffeine? Midol? A heating pad?”
My eyebrows pull up in confusion. “What do you know about it?”
He chuckles a low, gravelly sound that makes my clit throb. “Nothing firsthand. I have this friend with a sister. I’ve paid attention.”
I clear my throat, every bit of fight I may have ebbing from my body.
Why is he suddenly making me…feel?
“I’ll let you get finished up here,” he says, stepping back and creating space. I want to pull him back toward me. “Want me to help you carry this to your SUV?”
I shake my head.
“Figured,” he replies with a crooked smile. “Have a good one, Charli.” As he turns to exit my studio, he adds, “Oh, if you need anything from the store, let me know. Tampons don’t scare me.”
I bark out a laugh, watching him walk away.
I remember when I was in early high school and ran out of tampons.
I was at home, while both of my older brothers were out, working or with friends or something.
I texted them and told them I needed some, and their responses were both comical and outrageous.
Let’s just say I had to text my mom at work to bring me some on her lunch break because neither one of my older brothers would do it.
They practically begged me to send Camden, who was about ten at the time.
When I asked him to run to the pharmacy for me, he started gagging and went and hid in his treehouse.
Jerks.
His offering is a sobering one, and I realize immediately I’m in trouble.
It’s becoming too hard to brush off this sweet side of Quinn, and the longer I try to fight it, the worse I start to feel.
I’m quickly realizing I don’t want to brush it off.
I enjoy our banter, but it’s this caring and gentle side he offers me that’s throwing me off.
I like it.
I like him.
Quinn Garrison is going to be my downfall.
I’m in trouble.
It’s Thursday, and I most definitely should have started my period by now.
That can only mean one thing.
I don’t know how I made it through the day with this weighing heavily on my mind, but I managed.
Now, I’m driving to North Ridge, a short twenty-minute drive from Cooper Town, to hit the Target near the highway.
Why? Because what I need to purchase should not come from the local pharmacy.
Not with my bestie working there and not with eyes all around that would no doubt spot my purchase.
Once I have the test secured—a two pack, just in case I mess up the first one—I make my way back to my condo. There’s a slight tremble to my hand as I drive along, anxious and scared all at the same time.
I don’t know how this happened.