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Phoebe silently mused over her thoughts. Her family was important to her, but dating Quentin had seemed to split them down the middle. Thinking of going back home where there would be more sideways glances or silent treatment, specifically from Jonathon, saddened her.

“My lady love,” Quentin penetrated her thoughts, “tell me what’s wrong.”

Phoebe sighed. “I just wish things didn’t have to be so by the books, you know?”

Quentin’s forehead creased as he frowned. “I’m not sure if you mean the law or something else.”

Phoebe smirked. She had just changed the subject on him. “I’m talking about this ridiculous guy code you and my brothers have.” She dabbed at the corner of her lips and took a sip of her ice water.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Phoebe stared into his eyes. “You didn’t know at the time you’d fall hopelessly in love with me,” she teased.

Quentin chuckled. “Actually, I did.”

Phoebe’s eyes widened, and a flurry of chills spread over her.

“What do you mean?”

Quentin let out a deep breath. “I’d always assumed that me being so protective over you throughout your youth and as we grew into adults was because your brothers were my best friends, and it was my duty to help protect you.” He sighed. “And it was my intentions in the beginning, but…”

Phoebe held on to his words, waiting for him to finish as her heart beat enthusiastically in her chest.

“I grew to love you. It happened sooner than I’d realized. When I first recognized it, I tried like hell to deny it. I even went as far as to stop coming around you guys for a spell.”

Phoebe’s lips parted. “That’s when no one heard from you for about a year,” she said, recognizing the distance between them during her early adult years.

Quentin smirked. “I called myself trying to break through the ridiculous fantasy that one day you would grow to love me. Can you believe that? Chicago’s most notorious playboy.

“Truth is, none of those women could satisfy the thirst I had. Because it belonged to you.” He sighed again. “And now I’ve managed to piss off my best friends.” The laugh that came from his mouth didn’t hold a comical note. “I know that’s something you’re worried about. And like I said before, I’m sorry to have caused this disruption in your life.”

“Quentin.” Phoebe’s eyes watered. She had cried a lot lately, and she didn’t know if it was because she was a sap or being with Quentin just made her heart melt that much. “Don’t ever apologize for opening up to me and loving me. I love you, too, babe, and you know without a doubt that I’ve always had my eye on you. So it looks like we have something in common.” Phoebe thought again. “Maybe we should sit down and have a conversation with them. Cordially.”

At Quentin’s raised brow, Phoebe continued. “I know the last meeting didn’t go so well, but it was unplanned and knocked a few of their socks off. This time, we’ll meet at my father’s house. I can set it up.”

“No,” Quentin said, “I’ll set it up.”

Phoebe watched him for another second.

“You don’t have to,” she started.

“But I want to.”

And not only did he want to, but it was also his duty to make sure all was well between them. If not for the sake of his long-term brotherhood, then for the sake of Phoebe and the rift that would only get bigger the more he ignored it.

Their conversation settled back into a comfortable one, with Phoebe questioning how he was able to get backstage passes for The Spice Girls New Year’s Eve celebration. Quentin had adverted her question. Giving her enough to satisfy her inquiry. What Phoebe didn’t seem to understand was that Quentin’s mission throughout life had been to give her everything she wanted, and from the very first time she’d cried when the group broke up, he’d vowed to find a way to get them together.

It was only fate that The Spice Girls would be performing in Paris while they were there, but he’d pulled out all the strings to get exclusive passes. Phoebe had apologized to the moon about missing the concert, which she would’ve been on stage to watch up close and personal had they been there. But Quentin paid it no never mind. She’d still gotten a chance to meet them, and he was happy about that.

On the flight home Phoebe had slept in Quentin’s arms while his thoughts had whirled with the conversation he would have with her family. Phoebe had explained that her last conversation with Jordan was thoroughly different from his. It didn’t surprise him that the guys saw their mother in Phoebe, Eden, and Jasmine. Nor did he need a reason why they were so protective of them. What did take him back was Jordan’s defense of him against Phil Grayson. After everything that had went down, Quentin was certain none of them had any faith in his ability to be monogamist and hold things together.

When they’d touched down in Chicago, and he and Phoebe had departed, the first phone call he made was to Phoebe’s father.

“Good afternoon, how can I help you?” Norma chimed when she answered the phone.

Norma Rodriguez was the wife of Phoebe’s father, Christopher Lee Rose. They were newlyweds, just getting married on Christmas.

“Good afternoon,” Quentin responded. “This is Quentin Davidson, how are you today, Mrs. Rose?”

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