Page 27 of Lost the Handle

She has good teeth, no cavities or fillings. Lucky bitch. She broke her arm in college by falling down the stairs. No, I wasn’tthere to push her. She keeps up with her yearly exams but isn’t on birth control. She’s not on any meds. Must be nice not to have anxiety. She’s perfect, and I hate that.

Ignoring that, though, I pull up a tracker I have installed on her social media. It alerts me when she posts or comments on Quinn’s stuff. Ava has a very minimal social media presence, and she’s never commented on or liked any of Quinn’s videos since I’ve been monitoring her. The only thing she has posted of Quinn is their hands with the caption: Engaged.

That’s it. No hearts, no doves, no sparkles, justEngaged.

Weirdo.

And why didn’t she include their faces? Quinn is a stunner. She’s lucky to be able to show him off. She’s not ugly either, unfortunately. With her perfect face and a stylish bob, I can see why Quinn is attracted to her. She would look good on his arm. Not that I’ll allow her to be there for long. The only thing keeping me sane right now is that Quinn didn’t make an engagement post. He shared her post in his stories, but that was it. I find myself tracking his comments, and like Ava with him, he hasn’t commented on any of her stuff. It’s so damn strange.

To me, it seems so clinical, almost like an arranged marriage. Great, there goes my overactive imagination. I really need to stop living in books. I roll my eyes since I know for a fact that the only arranged marriage that could possibly happen would be between Quinn’s family and mine.

Now, that’s an idea…

Before I do something stupid, like ask my parents to offer the Adlers a cow, a goat, and some land for my hand, I look into Ava’s transactions to see what her day looks like. She’s addicted to subscription boxes, and I can’t blame her; I love them too. She does a lot of online shopping and spends a lot of money at the hospital on food and coffee. Understandable. It can’t be easy to work such long shifts, and Lord knows I’m not trying to makemy lunch every day. It’s hard waking up to make Quinn’s, but I want him to think of me during the day. As I click through her charges, I consider hacking in to her cameras when I see that she pays a monthly fee for a security system at her penthouse, but I don’t do that.

I know I’m a hacker, but I toe the line of what’s right and wrong. Yeah, my lines blur a bit and sometimes I take it too far, but one thing I won’t do is watch someone in their home. It’s not my thing. I am well aware that I’m okay with bank records and medical files, but spying on someone in private isn’t something I do. I could have spent the last three years watching everything Quinn did, but I didn’t.

That small fact about me probably stems from my love of morally gray men.

Not that Quinn is morally gray—he’s a good dude—but I also know he’d burn this world down for me.

If he weren’t set on being “engaged.”

I roll my eyes as I hide the screens with all her information and the sites I’m watching. Quinn knows his way around my computer, and I don’t want him to find out I’m watching her. I don’t know why. Maybe because I know he’ll look down his nose at my antics. Not that he’d be surprised by them, but he’d be disappointed in me.

I chew on the inside of my lip as I tap my toe. I feel like he is forcing himself to ignore me, and that needs to change. I’ve tried to just be in his space, to make him notice me, but he’s doing a good job of ignoring my existence. As much as I don’t want him to assume I only want sex, I might have to pull out the big guns on him. I need to get him to talk to me, even if it’s just to reprimand me.

I need his attention.

I need him.

Chapter

Eleven

Quinn

I pinchthe bridge of my nose as I lean against Emery’s car. I should have gone home and traded out cars, but I didn’t want Emery questioning where I was going. I didn’t want her to know I was going to Ava’s family home for dinner. I didn’t want to see the disappointment in Emery’s eyes or hear it in her voice. I’ve done well to keep my distance, but I know she’s up to something.

Emery is always fucking plotting.

She’s too damn smart for her own good.

I drop my hands to my sides and exhale. I’m overwhelmed by thoughts of her ruining everything for me—and also what Ava’s parents asked at dinner—but I don’t have time for my own mental gymnastics. I’ve got to smooth things over with Ava. She’s pissed at me, and a pissed Ava is not a good time. “I didn’t mean to be so sharp at dinner. I haven’t been sleeping well, and work has been rough.”

Ava’s porcelain skin shines in the dark as she brings her brows in tight. Her hair falls straight and with no wave along her jaw. She wears a burgundy Chanel dress that stops at her knees with modest beige heels. She has no curves, very trim and thin.She has on her glasses today, black-rimmed lenses that make her look older than she really is. “Whatever, Quinn. As I said, once we’re married, we won’t have to deal with my family any longer.”

My stomach clenches. It’s not that I don’t like Mr. and Mrs. Mettison. They’re kind enough. Drunk a lot of the time, but okay people. However, there is this suffocating tension between them and their daughter, and I hate being in the middle of it. While my family isn’t perfect by any means, the love is always there. I don’t think the Mettisons know how to love each other. Or even their daughter. It’s sad, really, and it also gives me anxiety to think of my mom and dad seeing the kind of family I’m marrying into. They’re already unhappy with my choices, and I know once they spend time around the Mettisons, they’ll worry even more.

Unable to respond to her callous answer, I just say, “I’ll get with my parents and see when they have time for dinner. The Brookses are staying with them right now, so I don’t know.”

“Wait? The Brookses? Are thoseherparents?”

I gaze up at the heavens and pray that my grandpa and grandma send me some strength and grace. Ava has no reason to hate or even give two shits about Emery. This isn’t a love match. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with Ava. Or have kids with her. Or watch her smile. Or have her come apart on my cock as I drive into her.

No. All that is saved for the girl who has always been the one for me.

The one who pushed me away three years ago. But now, I’m doing the pushing.

---