Chapter Fourteen
The Man Who Waited
Quinn
There’s a strange kind of quiet that settles over you after something big ends.
Not the peaceful kind but the stunned kind. The kind where your brain keeps trying to catch up with what just happened. That’s exactly where I am right now.
Standing in Mason’s gravel driveway beside Damien while the muffled bass from the party thumps behind us like a distant heartbeat.
My relationship is over. Five years. Gone in one night. In a single moment. It should feel devastating and part of me does hurt. That’s unavoidable. You don’t spend that much time building a life with someone without feeling the cracks when it collapses.
But there’s another feeling mixed in with the pain. Relief. And that realization alone makes my stomach twist with guilt.
“I should probably go home,” I say quietly.
Damien nods. “Probably.”
But neither of us moves. Which feels a little ridiculous considering we’ve been standing in the driveway for a solid minute already. But leaving means facing reality and right now reality feels a little overwhelming.
“You okay to drive?” he asks.
I blink. “Yup.”
“You’ve been crying.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
Despite everything, a small laugh slips out. “I’m fine.”
He studies me for a moment like he’s trying to decide whether he believes that before he nods. “All right.”
I glance toward the house. The music. The crowd. The place where my boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—was kissing someone else five minutes ago.
“Wow,” I say softly. “I really didn’t see that coming.”
Damien shrugs slightly. “Sometimes people show you who they are.”
“You think I ignored the signs.”
“I think you wanted to believe the best in him.”
That answer surprises me. “You’re being kind.”
“I’m being honest.”
“I feel stupid.” The idea that he was right when he called me stupid burns in my chest and I rub at the spot.
“You shouldn’t.” Damien looks like he wants to say more but he doesn’t.
“I should have noticed.”
“Quinn.” The way he says my name makes me look up. His expression is steady, serious. “You trusted someone. That’s not stupidity.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “It sure as shit feels like it.”
“Trusting the wrong person doesn’t make you stupid.”
“Then what does it make me?”
“Human.”
The word hangs in the air for a moment and suddenly the tight knot in my chest loosens just a little. Because Damien isn’t judging me. He isn’t saying I told you so. He’s just ... standing here, being steady. And I didn’t realize how much I needed that until right now.
“Thanks,” I say quietly.
“For what?” He tilts his head to the side, studying me with soft eyes.
“For not saying something sarcastic.”
“I save sarcasm for spreadsheets.”
“That’s a weird hobby.”
“I’m a weird guy.” He looks ridiculously proud and I can’t help but smile.
“You’re actually not.”
“That might be the nicest insult anyone’s ever given me.”
The silence that follows feels easier now, less heavy. More like the calm after a storm.
I glance at him. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why did you really follow me? And don’t say because you saw me crying. I want to know the truth.”
He looks genuinely confused. “You ran out of the house crying.”
“That’s not an answer.” I need to know if I’m imagining things.
“Yes, it is.”
I glare at him. “No, it’s not.”
He exhales slowly. “Because I didn’t want you dealing with that alone.”
The simplicity of the answer hits harder than I expected. “You barely know me.”
“That’s not true. I’ve known you for years.”
“Damien, you’ve known about me for years. We’ve never been friends.” It’s the truth even though it feels mean to say out loud.
“I know you bake cupcakes for people just because it makes them smile.” I blink. “I know you remember everyone’s coffee order. I know you laugh at Alistair’s terrible jokes even when they’re not funny.”
“That’s just politeness.”
“And I know you deserve better than the guy who just cheated on you.”
My chest tightens. “That’s a lot of observation.”
“I pay attention.”
“Clearly.”
For a moment neither of us speaks. Then I remember something.
Something he said in the grocery store parking lot.
“When you’re done playing with boys...”
He winces slightly. “Yeah.”
“You said there was a man out there who would treat me right.”
“I did.”
I tilt my head. “Were you talking about someone specific?”
The question hangs between us like a suspended thread. Damien’s jaw tightens slightly and he looks down at the gravel for a moment, then back at me.
“Yes.”
The honesty catches me off guard. “Oh.” Silence envelopes us. “Who?” I ask.
He hesitates and suddenly my heart is beating faster. Which makes absolutely no sense considering the night I’ve had.
“You’re not going to like the answer,” he says.
“Try me.”
He runs a hand through his hair, before he says the last thing I expected.
“Me.” The word is like a small explosion in my brain.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“You mean...”
“I mean I’ve been waiting.”
I stare at him. “Waiting?”
“For you to realize you deserved better than Emette.”
My brain is officially malfunctioning. “Since when?”
He shrugs slightly. “A while.”
“How long is a while?”
“Since the first time you walked into House of Ink with cupcakes.”
“That was months ago.” I’m shocked to say the least.
“Yeah.”
I blink. “You’ve liked me that long?”
“I tried not to.”
“Why?”
“You had a boyfriend.”
That answer is so simple. So logical. And yet it makes something warm spread through my chest.
“You never said anything.”
“That would have been disrespectful.”
“To who?”
“To you. And Emette.”
Even now. Even after everything that happened tonight. He’s still being respectful. Still being careful.
“You really are a good guy,” I say softly.
He laughs quietly. “That’s a dangerous reputation.”
“Why?”
“Good guys usually finish last.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“No?”
“No.”
I study him for a moment. Really look at the man in front of me. Damien Grey is standing here in the dim light of a gravel driveway after following me out of a party where my boyfriend was cheating.
He didn’t try to make the situation about himself. He didn’t push. He just stayed. And then he told me the truth when I asked.
“You’re brave,” I say.
“How so?”
“Telling me that tonight.”
“I figured honesty was the safest option.”
“Why tonight?”
He glances toward the house behind us. “Because you asked. And because he lost the right to call you his girlfriend.”
The words send a strange little shiver through me. “Damien...”
“I’m not asking you for anything,” he says quickly. “You just ended a relationship and you’re hurting.”
I tilt my head. “Then why tell me?”
“Because I don’t want some other asshole swooping in while I give you space to heal.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “But I meant what I said before.”
“What part?”
“If you ever decide you want someone who actually treats you right...” He meets my eyes. “...I’ll be here.”
My heart does something strange in my chest. Something soft. Something hopeful. Which is probably the worst possible reaction considering I broke up with someone less than an hour ago.
Still, standing here with Damien in the cool night air I realize something important. Emette made me feel like I was constantly trying to measure up. Like I had to prove I was good enough.
Damien?
He looks at me like I already am and that might be the most dangerous thing of all.