CHAPTER SIXTEEN
QUINN
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“No one tried to kill me today, so it’s going better than yesterday, I guess,” I tell Jeannie as I lather moisturizer on my legs and glance up at the screen.
I’m not sure if Noah is going to show up again tonight. I am not sure if I want him to. Obviously, what happened last night was incredible, but it can’t happen again.
I’m just...having moisturized legs feels like a good thing to do. In case...in case he shows up and I have to tell him to leave.
Jesus.
I do not want him to knock on my door and go all alpha sexy on me, but if he does, I’d like to be a little more groomed than I was last night.
That is all.
It means nothing.
“Given you’re in California, not Iraq, I’d say that’s what one would expect.” Jeannie smirks as she glances at the screen while chopping up a salad. “Or am I missing something?”
I realize I haven’t told her about the razors cutting my hand up yesterday, so no wonder she thinks I’m being dramatic. I can’t give her all the information, so I summarize.
“Oh, we had a faulty piece of equipment yesterday, and I cut my hand.” I lift it to show my bandage. “I’m joking; it’s super safe, but that asshat Tyrell was in my face again today.”
“Ugh, he needs to fall off the edge of the planet,” she says, like any best friend would.
“Which is round, not flat,” I reply with a snort. “But if it was, I’d push him.”
“Don’t blame you. What’s his problem?”
“Probably grew up with a sexist father. Thank God he didn’t see Noah leave this morning.”
I freeze.
Clang.
“What now?” Jeannie’s face fills the screen as she shoves her nose against the glass. “What did you say?”
Oh, crap!
“When he—”
“Do not even try to fabricate a story, Quinn Parker. Did you bang him?”
“No!” I cry, then spit out the truth before I realize what the hell I’m doing. “He went down on me.”
She screams.
I clamp my hand over my mouth.
Her husband, Carl, runs into the kitchen. “What’s—”
“Get out! You keep talking.” Jeannie points at both of us while my brain seeks an exit from this conversation.
“Do not scream like that while carrying my baby,” Carl growls, and I almost smile.
“Get, get, get.” Jeannie waves him off.
“No one told me marriage would be like this,” he mutters and walks out like someone killed his puppy.
We both chuckle.
Pangs of envy shimmer through me once again, and I wonder if it’s normal to feel like this when your BFF is pregnant. One of us had to be first, I guess. Then again, I’m hardly taking steps to create a family.
I’m dating Mark.
We’re not serious.
My career is my focus, and each year my eggs age. Every magazine on Earth reminds me of that, along with my mother and life around me.
Am I being flippant?
Do I not want a family of my own? I picture Noah and I married with children running around, and it flips my tummy upside down.
Not that it would necessarily be him.
Of course it would...except, what if he gave up on me and that vision was replaced with some other woman? The butterflies sink heavily, and I’m irrationally angry with him for something he hasn’t yet done.
When I focus back on the screen, Jeannie is glaring. “Speak.”
“Fine. Noah went down on me, and I fell asleep after the most incredible orgasm of my life. Oh my god.” I cover my face with my hands. “It was so good. Better than anything I’ve imagined, Jeannie.”
“Damn.”
“I woke up to him cuddling me, and it was...nice.”
“Nice?”
“Amazing. I mean, it’s Noah.”
“The man you should marry.”
“The one man I can’t marry.” I shake my head.
She sighs. “What if he is the guy you should spend your life with? I know I’m all loved up and pregnant, and you think it’s hormones...and it is...but hear me out, Quinn. Your career is important to you, and I respect that, but have you ever wondered if it’s too important?”
My brows lift, annoyed, despite the question sneaking into my thoughts recently. “You sound like my father.”
“Yeah, but he’s told you a thousand times you couldn’t and shouldn’t do this, and you’ve proven him wrong. Maybe it’s tim—”
“No. I can’t,” I interrupt. “If I dated him, it would negate everything. They know that he was my CO and promoted me up the ranks for those first few years. Even now, he’s one of the trainers.”
It’s like we are cursed.
“You should think about what’s going to be important to you when you’re thirty, forty, even fifty.”
“Wrinkle cream?” I smile, but she’s not laughing. “I do. I’ll still want to be a soldier.”
I think.
Do I?
“Okay, but soldiers get married and have kids.” I can see by her expression she’s trying to tread lightly, and I know she cares.
“I know,” I reply quietly, but I’m not sure anymore, and after last night everything feels a little more confusing. I am waiting for Noah to turn up, and he hasn’t yet.
Then my eyes widen. “Oh! I need to break up with Mark. You know, because of last night.”
“On that we agree.” Jeannie nods, then steps back from the camera and runs her hand over her baby bump.
A twinge in my chest has me picturing Noah lifting our daughter up into his arms, and the thought almost steals my breath away.
Why am I thinking these things now after one damn orgasm? To be fair, it was an incredible orgasm. But surely Noah Jenkins doesn’t have the ability to destroy my brain cells.
It was good.
“Yeah, um, okay, I should do that now before it gets late.” I reach for the phone before any more images of Noah and our fictitious family consume me. “Love you.”
“Love you back. Think about what I said, okay?” She gives me a wave.
“I will.”
Disbelief crosses her face before the screen goes black. Nothing can change our situation, no matter how much I fantasize.
Anyway, can you imagine if I brought Noah home for dinner and announced I was marrying him?
The colonel would choke on his glass of port.
He’s made it very clear what he thinks of Captain Jenkins.
And that me being involved with him is completely unacceptable.
It would be the last nail in the coffin of my father thinking my entire Army career was a total joke.
Suddenly, I hope Noah stays away.
I need to break up with Mark. I search for his number in my phone and then call.
“Hey, Quinn, I’m just going into a late meeting here. Can—”
“We need to break up,” I spit out because if he can’t give me three minutes after barely speaking to me for days, then I’m not softening the blow.
“Oh,” he replies; then there’s an awkward silence. “Because?”
It’s a fair enough question even though we aren’t serious. He deserves an answer.
“It’s just not what I want anymore.” I chew my fingernails as I pace the carpet, a bit of guilt hovering as I recall Noah between my thighs. “We were just casual, after all.”
“Yeah. Sure,” Mark says, then, after a pause adds, “Did you want to be exclusive?”
I recoil slightly. “Exclusive? I thought we were?”
“No,” he replies, and my brows shoot up.
“Wait, were you seeing other people?” I gasp.
“Yes. I thought we agreed.” Mark sounds annoyed.
“No. That would require a conversation stating clearly that you were fucking other women, Mark. Jesus!”
The fact that another man had his face in my pussy last night means I can hardly talk, but it wasn’t planned. It wasn’t a date. It shouldn’t have happened.
“Calm down.”
He did not just say that, did he?
“Oh my God. I can’t believe you told me to calm down after telling me you’ve been fucking other women.” I fling out my hand, despite him not being able to see me. “Let’s...forget it. I don’t want to see you anymore, and clearly, I wasn’t paying enough attention.”
“No. You don’t, Quinn. Your career is your priority, and that’s why I never pushed for more.”
Oh please.
“So, you were just fucking me?”
“You were just fucking me.”
Fair. I was, but I thought we were on the same page about not seeing other people. Not sleeping with other people.
I let out a sigh. “Goodbye, Mark.”
“Goodbye, Quinn. Hope you find what you’re looking for.”
That’s the problem.
I know what I want. I found him a long time ago.
I just can’t have him.