Page 13 of Midnight Oil

"I think I've intruded on you long enough. I've called for a ride, so I'll be out of your hair in just a minute."

His face fell. "Out of my hair? Is that really what you think? Suzy, I enjoyed having you here. You are not intruding. I thought we'd make some lunch."

Every cell in my body was saying put down the purse, cancel the Uber and stay for lunch, but how the heck was I going to untangle my emotions from this mess once he grew bored and moved quickly on to his next houseguest. In fact, Zoe had plans with him tonight. I wouldn't even have a full twenty-four hours of being hisspecialguest.

It took all my self-control to say no. "I think I need to go deal with—you know—fuckface. But I had a great time, and I'll see you around—at work."

Quinn raked some of his disheveled, long hair back with his fingers. The gesture revealed the black patch of hair under his arm and the bulging muscles of his pec and bicep. It was such a simple, natural movement, yet it sent my passion hormones into overdrive.

He padded on bare feet to the door. His silence could have been interpreted a million ways, but I was sure it was mostly relieved resignation. He knew just as well as me that we weren't going anywhere with this one night of semi-intimacy. It couldn't even have been summed up as a night of intimacy because it was one-sided.

"You're sure you don't need a ride somewhere?" he asked. "I could throw on some clothes and take you home. You might need me—" he paused, "you might need a friend when you confront that asshole."

I smiled weakly. "No, I need to face him alone. I'm not afraid of him. I'm just worried it won't be that easy to peel him off my couch and out of my house. Thanks again for everything, Quinn. You've been a great friend."

More disappointment swallowed his expression at the wordfriend, but it was the only word that made sense.

I walked outside into the warm afternoon sunshine. I glanced back. "By the way, your phone is in the bathroom in case you're looking for it."

"Thanks, I was wondering where I left it. Good bye, Suzy Q." He shut the door.

I headed down the long driveway to the road. There was an unexpected tug at my chest as if I had just walked away from something I would not soon forget.

Eleven

Quinn

Watching Suzy walk down the driveway and out of view, I reminded myself that I was chasing stars trying to catch someone like her. She had no interest and she'd made that undeniably clear with her hasty exit. Hell, she was even trying to sneak out, a move I had pulled more times than I liked to admit, when I wasn't interested in any subsequent conversation or relationship. But this time was different. This time she was sneaking out on me. Guess I now knew what a slap in the face it was to the person being snuck out on. Jeez, I was a fuckface too.

I headed into the bathroom to retrieve my phone. I walked through the bedroom. Suzy had made the bed and smoothed the quilt, but I could still see the impression her head had left on my pillow. The t-shirt I'd leant her was folded up and sitting on the foot of the bed. Something told me I wasn't going to wash the shirt anytime soon. I was that close. I had Suzy in my bed, tucked beneath my quilt, even wearing my t-shirt, but she had fled the scene, anxious to get away from the notorious player.

I picked my phone up off the counter. There were three texts, including the first one that was from Zoe about hanging out tonight. It had come through earlier, while Suzy was still here. She made a point of telling me about the phone, which meant she had absolutely seen it sitting on the counter. Since I'd never taken the step of hiding my texts, I could easily assume Suzy read Zoe's text. Zoe was a woman I occasionally hung out with. She was a lawyer and she was constantly traveling. Whenever she was in town, we made plans to meet up. Although our meet ups were basically a good dinner out followed by a long night of fucking. Then she would pick up her expensive suit jacket and her thousand dollar high heels, blow me a kiss and head out the door. I wouldn't see her again until her next stop through town and even then, occasionally, we were both too busy to make it work. Today, I wasn't feeling it. I also had a good excuse. I was still covering for the pickle jar disaster. The show would not go on without the Red Knight.

I texted her back. "Sorry sweets, I'm working tonight."

She texted right back, unusual for her. She must have been feeling extra horny. "How am I gonna keep myself busy without my favorite fuck?"

"I'm sure you'll figure something out," I replied. Normally I would have been bummed that I was too busy to hook up with Zoe, but this morning, I was glad to have an excuse.

I was working hard to convince myself that my lack of enthusiasm to see Zoe had nothing to do with the angel who just walked out of my house. But if I was being honest with myself, I didn't need to analyze too much. For months, I'd been wanting to get closer to Suzy, to find out why I was so darn obsessed with her, to prove to myself it was only because she was taken and I couldn't have her. But after the asshole she lived with hammered a nail in his own coffin last night, it seemed Suzy was no longer bound to a boyfriend. Yet, I was still thinking about her nonstop, her smile, the smell of her hair, the curve of her neck and an ass that was just asking to be kissed, pinched and spanked.

I put down the phone and walked to the shower. I turned on the water and flicked the lever to cold. I was definitely not over my obsession with Suzy Q.

Twelve

Suzy

Ifelt close to nauseous as I climbed out of the Uber car and headed to my front door. The television was on so I knew Tate was home. Where else would he be? The bigger question was would he be alone? As I pondered that question, I realized I didn't give a damn either way. I just wanted him out of my life. Any connection or feelings I'd felt for the man had been completely wiped away by the sight of the woman carrying her shoes across the front yard. And if I really thought about it, most of those feelings had been thin and fragile at best. I had slowly lost my interest and affection for Tate, and last night was just the push I needed to sever our relationship for good. That old cliché you're better off without him could not have been more true.

On the drive home, I'd sorted through the other emotions I was experiencing, the ones that were centered around Quinn. He actually seemed somewhat hurt that I was leaving, or, more accurately, sneaking out on him. For a fleeting moment, I'd allowed myself to dream that it was because he actually cared. I flipped back through all my encounters with him at work and all the times he'd insisted he was waiting for me to be free of Tate. On one occasion, when I teased him about seeing not one but two of my coworkers in the same day, he told me he was just filling time while he waited for me to come to my senses and realize I was meant to be with him and not Tate. Naturally, I always fluffed it off as flirting. He oozed charisma and confidence, and I was sure he told every girl the same darn thing, knowing full well that it would work. Only it had never worked on me. That was mostly because of Tate and my ridiculous scruples that would never have allowed me to cheat on him. But it was also because I didn't want to be one of Quinn's conquests. I didn't want to be added to a long list of women who drifted in and out of his life, stopping for some amazing sex and leaving with a good dose of heartbreak on the way out the door. I had come to the solid conclusion that I had made the right decision by heading out the door before anything more could happen. And after my time in his bedroom, with his mouth on me as he brought me to climax still fresh in my mind . . . and body . . . I was sure it wouldn't take much for me to be tempted right back into his bed.

My hand was shaky as I jammed the key in the lock. The door swung open before I could turn it. My key flew out of my hand along with the door handle. Tate was shirtless. I briefly did a comparison with the last shirtless man I saw and realized Tate had gotten soft and flabby in his time off work. He had dark rings under his eyes but I somehow doubted that had anything to do with him waiting up all night for me to come home.

"What the fuck, Suzy? You've been gone all damn night. Why weren't you answering my calls? I was trying to let you know I was on my way to pick you up from work."

"Oh really? Did you drive over to the dinner theater to look for me?" I pushed past him and put my purse down. Even though it was past noon, I was in desperate need of a cup of coffee.

He never answered my question. I scooped coffee into the basket and switched on the pot, then turned around and leaned against the counter with arms crossed. "Since you haven't answered, I can only assume you never bothered to look for me."

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