Chapter 35 Sexual Guru
Sexual Guru
Quinn
By the time we get back to the ranch, it’s almost suppertime, and I’m grateful for the frozen casseroles that Mrs. Mackey brought to the house when Pops first got home from the hospital.
She said it was “heart healthy,” but as I shake up the contents of the pan, I have to wonder if she even knows what that means.
God bless.
One night of food that isn’t on his diet isn’t likely to send him back to the hospital, so I pop it in the oven and prepare some fresh green beans to roast once I finish getting ready.
Pops is already asleep in his recliner—his favorite napping spot—snoring away. I resist the urge to slump on the couch next to him and run upstairs to get ready for my night out with the girls instead.
I still haven’t been able to shake the damn listless feeling that’s been hanging around ever since I opened that email from Dr. Kroychek.
I shoot Wes a quick text to let him know there’s plenty of casserole to go around.
Then I stare at the tiny closet and dig through the clothes I brought, trying to piece together something cute for girls’ night.
After the third outfit that makes me feel like a sad blob, I give up and call Marlowe, praying I’ve got enough service to get through a full conversation.
“Finally!” she answers the phone with an impatient huff.
“Pops insisted we stop at the café before we came back to the house,” I say, flopping back on the bed. “I think he misses being able to drive wherever he wants.”
“I’m sure he does. He lived alone for so long—I bet it’s hard needing help after all that independence.”
“Yeah. He makes sure we’re all miserable along with him.“
“Oh, the joys of family,” Marlowe snorts.
There’s a beat of silence.
“So.... tell me the big news so we can talk about the cowboy fucking your brains out.”
I scoff as I shimmy out of my jeans that refuse to button. “I don’t think I’ve seen you this interested in a guy since we watched Titanic together when we were fourteen.”
“Leo was so pretty in that movie.” I can hear her grin through the line. “Gave me all kinds of confusing feelings. Kate was hot. He was hot. And they were definitely hot together.”
I laugh, slipping into a floral sundress. “They were.”
“So would you rather tell me about the cowboy before you tell me the big news?”
Yes.
No.
I don’t fucking know.
“What’s wrong?” she asks when I don’t answer immediately.
“Nothing. I think?” My reflection in the mirror doesn’t look convinced.
“Start from the top,” she encourages gently. “We’ll figure it out.”
I exhale, twisting a section of hair around the curling iron. “Dr. Kroychek emailed me.”
“The mentor from Denver?”
“That’s the one,” I say, forcing brightness into my voice I don’t feel. “She offered me a job.”
“What? That’s amazing!” Marlowe’s voice is full of that giddy excitement that should be flooding my system.
“Yeah.” I fake a smile in the mirror, trying to sell it to myself.
Maybe it’s just PMS—like the bloat.
“Okay... maybe it's not as amazing as I thought it was,” she says carefully.
I can’t even fake being happy with my best friend over the phone. I sigh, giving up.
“I mean, it should be amazing, right? I’m crazy not to feel over the moon about it.”
“Well, I don’t know. You loved working with Dr. Kroychek, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“And you loved Denver, right?”
“Denver is gorgeous. Of course I loved Denver.” I set down the curling iron, my chest tight.
“And you have nothing keeping you there once Pops is fully recovered?”
My heart stalls in my chest. I meet my eyes in the mirror and then quickly glance away. “Right.”
“Hm,” she says, skepticism crackling through the line. “Maybe we should talk about the cowboy now.”
“What about him?” I swipe eyeliner across my lids, my hand not nearly steady enough.
“You like him?”
“We’ve been good friends for a really long time, Marlowe. Of course I like him.”
“But now he’s fucking you.”
“So?”
“So, you like him, like him?”
“It’s the same crush I’ve always had on him. The waters have always been muddy with me and Tripp.”
I was never sure what we were to each other. He was more than just my brother’s best friend. He was my friend too—a confidante. One who was flirty with everyone and always had a way with his words, always knew what to say to make whatever was worrying me loosen its fierce grip so I could breathe.
“And then you went and muddied them up some more by asking him to help you check things off your sex list.”
“You told me—“
“I did not tell you to ask your brother’s best friend to be your sexual guru. Don’t put that on me, Quinn Dawson. That was all you.”
“Fine,” I mutter, fumbling the cap back onto my eyeliner.
“I take it Tripp got the job done?”
“Uh huh,” I say a little shakily as I remember exactly how it had felt to have him sliding into me while I was pressed up against the barn.
Marlowe snorted. “Wow. Nothing more to add?”
“Nope,” I answer quickly, applying a thin line of gloss. I can’t go there right now—not while my brain is spiraling over Denver.
The job is perfect. A dream position. And I should be saying yes without hesitation.
Something had to be seriously wrong with me if I wasn’t jumping at the opportunity.
Was I still too young for a midlife crisis?
“Ugh. What’s wrong with me? Why aren’t I excited about this job?”
“Do you want my honest opinion, or do you want to mope around for several more days until you figure it out yourself?”
I sigh. “I feel like moping.”
“Great. In that case, email Kroychek. Tell her you’re interested but you’ve got family stuff going on and can’t commit just yet. Ask if she’d consider holding the position for a few weeks.”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “I guess I could do that.”
“It’s a great job, Quinn. But if your heart’s not there—if that’s not where you want to be—then don’t force it. You’re allowed to want something different now.”
“Thanks, Mar.”
“Anytime. Call me when you figure it out. I’m always here if you need to talk.”
“Sure. Love you!“
“Love you.”
She hangs up, and I fan my hair over my shoulders. Then, I spin on my bare feet and head downstairs to toss the green beans in the oven. All the while, that damn job offer twists in my gut, leaving my stomach heavy with doubt.