Chapter 11

Tyler

“My life’s pretty complicated right now. And this—whatever’s happening between us? It can’t happen. No fucking way.”

The words I’d said to her, crushing her perfect face, rippled through me as I sat beside Hank at our mid-day business meeting, sipping beers and watching another football game. I hadn’t bothered to give the game any real attention, knowing that Hank would narrate it for my anyway.

This gave me time to stew over what had happened between Quinn and I the day before. It was like I had beckoned her to my home, that she had taken my anger and my dominance over her like an invitation. When she’d walked into my kitchen, I’d known that I wanted to strip her bare and fuck her on the floor—to give into my animalistic impulses. But Jesus. I hadn’t imagined that my heart would feel the way it did, now. It practically ached for her, yearning to listen to her laugh, to speak to her, to know more about her than just her name and the shape of her ass. More than anything I wanted to see her again, to look into those beautiful sparkling eyes of hers and just be in her presence.

“What about you, Tyler?” Hank asked, his eyes flashing. “You been getting any ass lately?”

I blinked several times, sensing the switch in conversation. I gave him a sneaky, side-smile. “Oh, I don’t know. Here and there.” I lied.

“Ha! We’re men of divorce, Tyler. You know that means we can do whatever we want in this life? And I’ve seen the way Samantha looks at you. Like you’re the only guy in the room. It’s hot. Steamy. And the way she looks in those dresses—“ He paused, lifting a chip to his teeth and chomping on it. “I mean, you could have her in a second.”

But I didn’t want Samantha. Shrugging slightly, I glanced toward the window. The sun squeezed through another mid-September fog. “I don’t know about that,” I said.

“I know for a fact if you got her in your office and stripped off her panties, she’d let you. Oh—wait. GOAL!” He lifted his hands in an outrageous motion, leaping up from his stool and bouncing. His belly went along with him, tossing over his belt.

Samantha had been upping her flirtation lately, clearly unaccustomed to not having men return her advances. She grew more and more alluring, with each passing day. Bringing her breasts higher in a push-up bra, curling her hair, even donning fake eyelashes but she did nothing for me, nothing at all like Quinn.

Innocent. Lost. Yet, articulate in this incredibly complex way. A scientist, from a world I didn’t know a single thing about. The way she’d spoken to Rachel about it, it gave her someone to look up to, from a life that seemed hinged on loneliness and science projects.

My phone began to buzz. I spotted the name with a jolt; it was Marnie. Giving Hank a knowing look, I stepped into the haze of the street and answered it.

“Marnie. Is something wrong with Rachel?” I asked.

“Of course not.” Her crone-like voice made the base of my spine feel tense.

“Then why are you calling? I’m in the middle of a meeting,” I lied.

“Well, I wanted to let you know that I sent Rachel home with your girlfriend,” Marnie replied. I could almost hear the eye roll. “A bit young, don’t you think, Tyler?”

My nostrils flared, I felt myself panic going through a thousand kidnapping scenarios, suddenly certain that my girl was in the hands of a monster.

“I’m sorry?”

“That little blonde bimbo,” Marnie scoffed. “But Greg and I have plans, so we went along with it. I just wanted to let you know. I assume Rachel likes her. She was already tagging along with her. Giving her puppy dog eyes.”

“Puppy dog eyes?” I stammered, feeling skeptical. I needed to call Rachel. “All—all right. Have a good night with Greg. I hope he doesn’t spill BBQ sauce on his shirt, like last time.”

“The man knows his wings,” Marnie scoffed, ending the phone call immediately. Insulting Greg was a low blow, and I knew it—something I yanked out whenever I was feeling particularly out of control.

Dialing Rachel’s number as fast as I could, I peeked within the bar to see that Hank continued in his similar format; eating chips, cheering wildly, narrating the game to himself. Did he even know I was there?

Finally, she answered, “Hello?”

“Hey, love bug,” I said.

“Hi. Um. Actually. This is Quinn.”

The voice was soft, like velvet, and it cooed in my ear. Just two nights ago, she’d wrapped her arms around me and allowed the softness of her pussy to fold over my hard cock. And then, after practically kicking her out of my life, she was there; on my daughter’s cell phone.

Of course. The blonde bimbo. Why had I assumed any differently?

“Quinn. Did—um. So you have Rachel?”

“I do. We’re doing her science homework right now. I have to say it’s fascinating stuff. She’s explaining mitosis to me, and she is mastering it.”

I chuckled into the phone, my eyes growing big. I swallowed sharply, wishing I could eliminate this growing feeling of adoration in my gut. I would have traded anything to be with them and to laugh with Quinn about Rachel’s science obsession. To eat alongside them, to choose a movie for the night.

And then—to turn on something else inside me. My animal-like impulses. To destroy Quinn, in the confines of my bed, and leave her panting for more.

“Wow,” I said, trying to center my mind. “I never listen to that stuff. Too complicated for me.”

“Said the big tech guy in Silicon Valley,” Quinn giggled, obviously flirting with me.

I had no answer to that. I slid my fingers through my dark hair, glancing down the street. I felt like an alien.

I heard her excuse herself from Rachel—saying a brief “I’ll be right back,” before whispering into the phone.

“Listen,” she began, her voice tight. “I hope you know I’m not trying to step over any boundaries. I’m really not. I saw Rachel walking home from school today and was honestly shocked, so I pulled over and picked her up. It was an instinct or something, and she looked so sad when I saw where her mother lives.” She trailed off, her voice filled with the reality of Marnie’s place. The stinking carpet. The ‘Greg’ that existed between snores, a lump on the couch. “I just didn’t feel right about leaving her there.”

“And so you introduced yourself as my girlfriend?” I asked, knocking my head against the brick wall behind me.

“Actually, Rachel did that,” Quinn said, sighing—not without humor. “I couldn’t believe it. But I didn’t want to give her away. She’s such a good kid, Tyler.”

“I know.”

“And I heard what you said, last night,” Quinn whispered, obviously embarrassed. “About your life is too complicated right now for anything to happen. I think I might have mentioned that I have a recent ex, as well?”

“Sure.”

“Well, my life isn’t exactly easy, either. So I know where you’re coming from. I just want you to know that I’m not trying to get in your way or affect you. If what happened last night never happens again, I’ll be fine.”

Her voice tweaked as she said it, making me smell the lie. But I didn’t force her into another answer.

“My life’s is empty right now. I don’t want to date. I don’t want to ‘get back out there.’ As far as I’m concerned, spending a few nights in with Rachel talking about Albert Einstein is time well spent,” she continued.

“She’ll be on another scientist by next week,” I laughed, wishing I could keep Quinn on the phone longer. Listening to her chat about my daughter—in an endearing way—made my heart swell. “Last week, it was Marie Curie. I can’t keep up with it.”

“I’ll consider it my job, then,” Quinn said, teasing me.

The distance between us was palpable. There was nothing else to say. The line had been drawn in the sand which had begun by me and completed by her—allowing us freedom. I made up an excuse, declaring that I needed to get back to my meeting. And she said she’d see me soon—“But hopefully not too soon, for both our sakes.”

And then we hung up. On that last point, I agreed, because I wasn’t sure I would be able to restrain myself the next time I saw her.