Irrefutable (The Apprehensive Duet Book 2) (37 page)

Turning in his arms, I lie on my side and look up at him. “I wasn’t kidding either. I really did just want to make a fantasy a reality for you.”

He lets out a belly laugh before saying, “And you’re the world’s greatest girlfriend for that, but some fantasies are better just as that.”

“Huh?”

He laughs again before explaining, “While the thought of watching you put your mouth on another woman’s pussy is incredibly hot, I don’t want it in real life. In reality, I want your mouth on me and my cock. I want your attention solely on being pleased or on me. Your only thought when my cock is buried inside you is me making you come. I’m a greedy prick like that. I’m not sharing you with anyone.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” I say cocking a brow at him and rolling onto my back. “I can focus solely on being pleased.”

“HOW WAS YOUR trip, man?” Tanner asks as we head toward the theater room of his house. It’s more of a man cave than theater room but whatever.

Ash invited us over for dinner since it’s been over a month since we’ve all been in the same state. The hype surrounding our Super Bowl win didn’t die down until mid-March and poor Tanner had appearance after appearance. When he finally got his life back, he didn’t hesitate to grab his girls and head for their home on Lake Tahoe for a few weeks.

“Pretty damn great,” I answer with an enormous smile. “Yours?”

“Quiet,” he says as he heads for the fridge in the corner. “Want a beer?”

“Yeah,” I call out taking a seat on the couch and grab the remote.

Tanner hands me my beer and takes a seat on the other end of the couch. “What was so great about it?”

“Well,” I crack open the can of beer. “Quinn told me she loves me and offered me a threesome.”

Tanner’s eyes widen and his mouth hangs open, “You had a threesome in Vegas?” Of course that’s the part he’s choosing to focus on.

I take a sip of my beer before answering him. “No, I turned down the threesome.”

“You turned down a threesome?” This is like talking to a three-year-old. “Wait…was it with another dude? Because then I can totally understand.”

“You’re such a douche,” I bust out in a loud laugh. “And no, it was with another girl.”

His eyes bug out and his hands fly up, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I ask, “What part of having a threesome with the person you love sounds like a good idea? Would you have a threesome with Ashley?”

Realization dawns on him and he shakes his head adamantly, “Hell, no!”

“Exactly,” I say smugly. “Plus, turning it down made her say I love you the next morning. Not that I really wanted to go through with it, but saying no did something for Quinn.”

“So she finally admitted it,” he comments bringing his bottle of beer to his lips. “How’d that happen? I always pictured you’d have to drag it out of her.”

“It was the first thing she said when she woke up,” I say. “I didn’t think she actually meant to say it, but I gave her the chance to take it back and she didn’t.”

We sit in silence drinking our beers. Unlike our women who are probably gossiping a mile a minute in the other room, we work better with fewer words when discussing our feelings.

“That’s pretty big for Quinn,” Tanner says breaking our reflective time. “How did she handle it afterwards?”

“A lot better than I’d ever expect,” I respond with a warm grin. Her lack of breakdown after saying the best words I’ve ever heard makes me happy. “To be honest, I didn’t make a big deal of them myself. I know they’re words she doesn’t take lightly, so I don’t really need anything more than that. I don’t want her to be uncomfortable saying them.”

“I can completely understand that,” Tanner says, nodding.

“Plus, I wanted to get to the bottom of the whole threesome thing,” I add.

“What was up with that?” Tanner asks as he gets up for another round of beers.

We spend the next twenty debating the definition of threesomes and if all parties have to have sex with each other or if it can be just three people doing sexual things to one another in a room. I say all three people have to have sex with each other, any hole, for it to count, but Tanner insists that you can have one where not everyone has to touch.

We’re so deep in the debate and different scenarios that we don’t hear the girls come in to tell us dinner is ready until Quinn says, “Sorry, Tan. You’re wrong. All three people have to have some form of sex with each other for it to count as a threesome.”

“No,” Ashley interrupts. “You, me, and Tanner could have a threesome without you ever touching him.”

Tanner and I laugh before I end the conversation that’s effectively going nowhere. “That’s how you can tell you’ve wound up with the right person. They have the same definition of threesome as you.”

A chorus of laughter fills the room and it takes me back to a time where there was no drama. A time when four best friends could laugh at the stupidest things. It’s so nice to have this back.

“Let’s go eat,” Ash says, turning and heading through the thick curtains that serve as doors for this room.

“You’re starting to waddle, Ashley,” I call after her. “I missed seeing this up close and personal last time. How much longer do you have now?”

“Shut up, asshole,” she yells over her shoulder. “I’m not dealing with your smart ass comments for the next ten weeks.”

THE SMELL OF bleach nearly chokes me as I enter Quinn’s place.

It’s completely quiet except for a scratching sound coming from the kitchen.

“Angel?” I call out following the sound.

There’s no answer, but I do find Quinn in the kitchen. Ear buds are in her ears and she’s on her hands and knees with a large scrub brush in her hand and a bucket next to her.

I don’t bother calling out to her again since I doubt she’ll hear with the music playing in her ears. Instead, I carefully walk over to her, minding my steps since the floor is wet, and squat down to her level. Quinn is so focused on scrubbing the hell out of the section of floor she’s working on, she doesn’t notice me until I reach out to touch her shoulder.

Her arms fly out and she yells, “What the… Jesus Christ, Alex, you scared the shit out of me.”

My lips turn down into a frown as I take in Quinn’s appearance. Her eyes are swollen and red. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a lopsided messy bun. She’s wearing an old Ramapo sweatshirt and cut off sweatpant shorts. Her fingers are pruned and raw and her knees have giant red spots on them as if she’s been down on that floor scrubbing for hours.

“What’s going on, angel?” I ask, catching the tear slipping down her cheek with my thumb.

“Nothing,” she lies diverting her eyes back down to the floor. She grips the brush in her hand and starts back scrubbing the spot she was just working on. The floor is beyond clean. We can probably eat off it at this point. Glancing around the kitchen, I notice that every surface is spotless and the kitchen smells like an operating room—sterile. She’s been at this for a while.

Placing my hand over hers as they slide the brush back and forth on the floor, I stop her movements. “This isn’t nothing, Quinn. What’s wrong? You have a cleaning service, so I know damn well that nothing in here needs to be cleaned.”

The dam breaks and Quinn’s head rests on the floor as she doubles over and starts crying.

“I hate this place. I hate it. I hate it,” she sobs, her whole body shaking.

I’m not exactly sure what “this place” is, but whatever it is has her very upset.

“What’s this place, baby?”

Her body jackknifes up and her arms flail out wide, “This, I hate this.”

“The kitchen?”

“No. This entire place. I hate this house!”

I have no idea what happened today, but whatever it was, it’s big. Quinn loves her home. She even planned on keeping it while married to Jordan so that she could come back to it after they dissolved their marriage and got rid of her father.

“Come on,” I order, reaching for her hand again. Only now, I pull her up and guide her out of the kitchen into the living room.

Sitting down, I pull her with me and wrap my arms around her body enveloping her. “Where is this coming from?”

“Fucking Dr. Stein”

Ah. Quinn must have had an intense session today at therapy. I don’t usually ask much about Quinn’s appointments with the doctor. I know it’s hard enough for her to go to them, and honestly, they’re private. What she talks to her therapist about is between them. She tells me the things she wants to and I’m perfectly okay with that. But given her current state, I need to ask today.

“What happened?”

“I was talking about how good it felt to be out from under my father. I was saying how nice it’s been to have a solid six months without him torturing me and he asked if I really thought I was out from under him. One thing led to another and he pointed out I’m still living on his dime and the company I have is because of him,” she explains, stopping every couple of words to shudder a sob.

“You’re building a bigger, better company with Jordan and you’re more than capable of affording this place on your own, so problem solved,” I point out.

“No,” she argues. “He’s stained this place for me. The company too. Taylor Ventures won’t exist for much longer, but this place will still be here every day reminding me.”

Her sadness is dissolving and anger is rising in its place.

“He used this place against me,” she says righting herself from my lap. “He paid the lease on this place for the last eight years. I used to love my home and everything about it. The freedom I felt when I moved out here away from the city, away from them, wasn’t actually ever freedom at all. All I see when I look at these walls is him still having control over me.”

Quinn’s body hunches over, and she hangs her head in her hands.

“Okay, so what would you like to do?” I ask, rubbing my hand up and down her back trying to comfort her. I’m not sure how I can fix this for her. This has been her home for a while, and she’s always loved it, but after today, I don’t think she’ll ever look at it the same. “How can we make this better?”

Her fingers separate as she lifts her head slightly and her eyes peek out from between them. “I don’t think there is a way to fix this. It’s dirty. It’s all dirty! I spent hours cleaning this place and it still feels tainted as fuck.”