Chapter 25
I’m exhausted when Kai’s alarm goes off, but thank god it does because we both have to work this morning. Back to the real world, but things feel totally different between us in the best possible way.
He’s smiling when he rolls over, and I’m still in bed next to him. Pulling me into his arms, he buries his face in my neck, kissing gently.
“I love waking up with you in my bed,” he murmurs, a soft grumble to his words. “Let’s do it every day.”
“Like sex every day or wake up together every day?” I ask, looking for clarification but being totally fine with it being both.
I could do this forever. It feels so natural and easy, and the whole orgasm thing; I didn’t even have to try as hard. My body took over, relaxed and ready, but his tongue—oh my god, his tongue was magic. Maybe I just needed to meet the right person to make it happen.
Kai is it.
It might be soon. I’m not even divorced, but I’ve never felt so comfortable with someone in my life. He makes me laugh, and like Daisy said, he’s kind and generous, giving more than he ever takes. And it’s hard to believe he was still single because he’s literal perfection.
“Both, obviously, babe,” he replies, tickling my side and making me giggle and squirm. I try to get away from him, but he wraps his arms tightly around me, holding me in place as he now rubs the scruff of his chin against my neck.
“Kai,” I squeal, laughing and flailing around. My legs are tangled in the sheets, my hair covering my face as he continues to tickle me. “I’m going to pee myself!”
Rolling around, all legs and arms, tears streaming down my cheeks, I feel the edge of the bed draw near, and before I know it, we’re tumbling off the bed.
Kai lands on top of me, both of us laughing so hard that we have to gasp for breath. With his hands on either side of my head, he kisses me.
“You okay?” he asks, smiles on our faces as he brushes my hair back.
I nod, giggling, loving how much fun we have together.
Pausing, he watches me, his eyes a deep shade of chocolate brown, trained on my face, and I take him in the way he does me.
I memorize the little details, falling for him in the easiest way.
His tongue slips out, wetting his lips, and I can feel the silence wrap around us, calm and peaceful as he whispers, “I think I waited all my life for you.”
Things went a little south after his comment, and now we’re both running late to get to work. Not the best look for me when I’m still a new employee, but luckily, I make it in about ten minutes before my shift starts and a full forty minutes before my first client.
Getting in line at the employee coffee cart, I run into Sloane, and she’s absolutely beaming when she sees me.
“Quinn!” she squeals, grabbing my arm as she smiles. “Good birthday, huh?”
“Yeah, it was. Thanks so much for coming.” As I say it, I realize how it sounds, and clearly, Sloane does too, because we both let out a laugh.
“Did you see our texts? We were blowing up your phone all night and this morning.”
I haven’t even looked at my phone, wanting to leave my lawyer and Sean’s legal team on read. And with how late I was running, I grabbed it and shoved it in my purse.
She pulls her phone from her pocket, scrolling through the text chain, which has us both laughing a little too hard.
Alana: Get it, girl!
Daisy: That was the real thing! Those Olsen boys know how to get it done!
Sage: How was it? Best of your life?
Sloane: Not sorry we ditched out on your birthday party.
The text chain continues with several dirty emojis, lots of jokes, and a few congratulations, and even if it is a little embarrassing, I love the friendship I’ve developed with these girls.
Joking and laughing and sharing, knowing I’m not alone in this, but finally finding that someone who can give me my first orgasm that wasn’t solo.
“You free for lunch today?” I ask Sloane as we both grab our coffee and head back toward the front of the hotel.
The spa is on the third floor with this stunning infinity pool overlooking the ocean. It’s nothing like the place I worked in New York, but I’m really enjoying it. All the luxury and the quiet spa environment with snacks and drinks, a little café that serves sandwiches and salads to the guests.
All the employees have their own entrances and breakroom areas, but even those are beautiful, with gorgeous views and everything we could want.
“Yeah, probably around twelve if that works for you,” she replies. “Want to grab lunch at the café?”
“Sure, that sounds great.”
“You can give me the rundown on your night and your morning,” Sloane jokes. “Sounded like things went really…” She stops, opening her mouth into an O shape, closing her eyes, and I can’t help but laugh at her.
“Yeah, it was—” I’m cut off by Sally, the owner of the hotel, coming up to us.
“Quinn, there’s someone here to see you,” she says, and I quickly check my watch, making sure I haven’t killed too much time. She points to a man sitting on one of the couches in the lobby, but he doesn’t look at all familiar to me.
“Oh, thank you. I’ll go see what he wants, and then I need to get up to the spa. I don’t want to be late for my first client.”
“You’re good,” Sally says, smiling sweetly. “He didn’t say who he is, but if I had to guess, he looks like a journalist. They’re in here all the time doing write-ups on the hotel. Maybe he wants to interview our newest employee.”
She’s joking, but she has no idea that he’s here for exactly that, and it has nothing to do with the hotel. Kai is the only person I’ve told about my divorce and the NDA, and really about who my soon-to-be ex-husband is.
I’m shocked they don’t already know. It’s probably spreading like wildfire through the gossip mills and tabloids.
Her words stop me in my tracks.
It’s starting, and I have no idea how to handle this. Honestly, I want to run and hide. I wasn’t built for this, and depending on the media outlet, they could want my story, or they could be here to support Sean.
Either way, it doesn’t matter because I’m not ready to participate in this. That doesn’t mean I’m going to sign the NDA, though. I will never give up my right to speak about my own life.
“You okay, Quinn?” Sloane asks, and I can feel my face lose all its color, my hands growing clammy.
Both she and Sally are looking at me, the fear written in every expression, every movement.
“No, I’m sorry. It’s a long story, but I don’t know how this person found me, and they aren’t here for anything good.”
My words come out a jumbled mess and do nothing to explain the situation, but more than that, my place of employment is not where this should be happening.
“If someone wants to find you, they will,” Sloane says. “Take it from me. It’s hard to stay hidden.” She reaches for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“I’ll ask him to leave,” Sally says, jumping in immediately. “You don’t need this while you’re at work.”
Her words come out quickly, but nothing in them is bothered or angry. She seems legitimately concerned for my well-being, and a few seconds later, Sloane and I are watching her talk to him.
He hands her a card and then leaves.
Breathing a sigh of relief, but I know it’s not over.
“I was right,” she says, returning to where Sloane and I are standing. “A reporter. He wants to talk to you about Sean English from The Provocation.” Her brows knit together as she ends her sentence, a question hanging on her words.
I swallow hard when I hear his name, pushing back the tears, because even though I knew this was coming, I’m not prepared. I’m not sure I would ever be prepared to talk about it, especially with my boss.
“He’s my soon-to-be ex-husband, and things aren’t going very well. The media loves a good divorce,” I say, trying to make it funny, but it’s far from funny.
“Ah,” Sally says. “Got it. I’ll let the desk attendants know that you are not to be bothered. Reporters are not welcome here unless they have preapproval from Rick or me.”
She’s firm in her words, resting a comforting hand on my arm. She smiles. “You’re safe here, Quinn. You won’t be bothered, and if you need anyone to walk you out to your car in the garage, just let me know. I’ll put one of the security guys on it.”
“Thank you.”
Sally leaves, and Sloane looks over at me, eyes wide. All I can do is nod.
“Wow. I didn’t think you were going to say that,” she says now. “Sean English.”
“It’s complicated.”
“It always is when it comes to things like that. Divorce.”
“I can’t believe Kai didn’t tell you,” I say.
“I’m not. If you confided in him, he wouldn’t tell. He’s a really great guy,” Sloane shares, and I really shouldn’t be surprised Kai didn’t share it with everyone.
That’s not in him to break someone’s trust, and I’m drawn to him even more. His kindness and his ability to keep my secret. He’s been here for me from day one, more than anyone else in my life.
I glance down at my watch, noticing the time, and I have to get going.
“Shit, I’m going to be late,” I say, and Sloane nods.
“I’m here if you want to talk about it or if you need anything,” Sloane tells me. “We all are. We’ve been through this with Miles. The reporters came after his band split up, offering us money for stories on him, but fuck them. They don’t know we’re ohana, and ohana doesn’t sell out.”
“Thanks, Sloane.”
My day goes quickly—fully booked and distracted, which is nice—and lunch with Sloane helped too.
I was able to share a lot of what I’ve gone through and been going through with her, and I feel lighter, but still exhausted when I pull into my driveway.
Kai and I made plans tonight, and I text him before I get out of the car.
Me: I’m home from work. Going to shower and then make dinner. What time will you be over?
Kai: Finishing up a board. Give me twenty and I’ll be over.
Me: Sounds good.
My fingers hover over the keys, a part of me wanting to end my text by telling him I love him—especially after this day. It went from a great morning to shit quickly, but it was great to have Sally turn the reporter away, and also to know it won’t happen again while I’m at work.
But as I exit the car, a large black SUV pulls into my driveway, and I stop, watching it.
I’m one of the only homes on the road, set back too far for someone to be lost and turning around. The windows are tinted, and I can’t see who’s in the driver’s seat, but as my heart begins to race, my mind catches up.
I knew he’d show up eventually.
“Sign the fucking papers, Quinn,” he shouts as he exits the car. “This is how this works. You know that. You knew that going into it, so stop making this harder than it has to be.”
He’s yelling as he walks up to me, intimidating and loud. Stopping in front of me, his body is only inches from mine, and I can feel his hot breath against my face.
He smells of whiskey and cigarettes, and I grimace, hating how close he is to me, how his scent reminds me of all the awfulness I went through while married to him.
Clarity is a real bitch, only showing up after the fact.
Without a word, without engaging with him, I turn and walk toward the house, even though I know this is the wrong thing to do.
He won’t be able to handle it, adding fuel to an already raging fire.
“Quinn! Don’t you fucking walk away from me!” he screams, and I hear his feet pounding hard against the gravel.
I can feel my heart racing, afraid of what he might do. During the course of our relationship, he never hit me, but he did so much more.
The emotional abuse runs deep, leaving scars that can’t be seen.
“Eleven million, Sean?” I shout back, my keys in my hand, my legs still moving up the steps to my house.
He’s following me. He won’t back down from this until he gets what he wants, and in the past, I would have given in. Too afraid of what would come if I didn’t.
Not anymore.
“That’s not mind-your-own-business money. It’s fucking hush money, and you know it,” I spit out. “You can’t handle that I know every fucking skeleton in your closet. I’m not signing!”
As the words leave my mouth, he grabs for my phone, yanking it from my hand. He hurls it off the deck. Seconds later, he launches a chair, which hits the ground and splinters into pieces.
“What the fuck do you want, Quinn!” he yells, punching the side of my house, his fist bloody, and while I’m terrified, he doesn’t get to do this to me anymore.
My hands shake as I lift the keys to unlock the door, and as quickly as I try to do it, he’s quicker. Grabbing them from me, he wraps them in his palm.
“Quinn,” he hisses, his teeth clenched, his fists balled up. “What the fuck do you want from me?”
Fear rockets through me as he steps closer, and I can feel the tears begin to pool in my eyes. Fighting back the urge to scream for help, to start crying—anything to get me out of this.
“I want nothing. I want you to leave me alone. I want to act like I never married you.”
“Then sign the fucking NDA, or I’ll ruin your life.”