Page 73 of Memories with Fire

Releasing a breath, I toss my phone to the bed and take the cup from her. “Thanks.”

She sits on the bed across from me, getting comfortable. I’m not sure I like the looks of that since I just want to be left alone, but there’s not much I can do, so I try to make the best of it. “What was the verdict?”

An eyebrow arches over pink contact covered eyes until she realizes what I’m asking, then she laughs. “The male thing? The jury is still out. Guys are so weird when they’re going through emotional shit.”

I’m not sure why I bothered to ask. My legs are stretched out in front of me on the bed and I cross an ankle over the other, trying my best to look bored so she won’t continue this conversation.

It doesn’t work.

“In my experience men are one of two things,” she goes on, “Mopey and depressed, and everyone knows it, or you’re drinking everyone under the table and trying to fuck anyone and everyone.”

I take a sip of my coffee, refusing to look in her direction.

“You’re the former. The mopey guy. Which I think in your case means you don’t actually want to be over Hailey.” Out of the corner of my eye I see her set her coffee down on the nightstand between our beds before she slides further onto it, lifting her legs to sit cross legged while facing me. “Do you?”

Taking a deep breath, I finally look in her direction, frowning. I wish I could say I had a good poker face, but I know I don’t. Quinn basically has it all correct. I don’t want to be over Hailey, but Hailey also wants nothing to do with me.

“If you’re that miserable, why don’t you just talk to her?” she asks with a bit of annoyance.

“Because she’s upset and wants space,” I answer with my own irritation.

“So?” Quinn looks at me impatiently. “Is that it?”

I’m taken back by the question. “What?”

She reaches over and grabs her coffee, waving it at me. “That’s the only reason? Newsflash. She’s not the only person in the world to ever be mad at someone. Plus, she’s told you to leave her alone before, and that didn’t stop you from getting in her pants.”

“I wasn’t just getting in her pants,” I say through gritted teeth.

Quinn snaps her fingers and then points in my direction. “Right. You probably got in her mouth, too.”

“Quinn,” I say in rumbled warning, suddenly understanding the tone Hailey sometimes takes.

“Look, all I’m saying is where’s that guy?” She waves a hand around the room expectantly, waiting for someone to appear out of thin air.

That guy’s heart and soul walked away with Hailey when she left me on the concrete, though. Turning my head to stare at the end of my bed again, I take another sip of coffee, hoping my silence deters her.

It doesn’t.

“I might not be the best person to give relationship advice because I’ve never actually had one, but I’m going to give you my two cents anyway.” In my periphery, she leans forward a bit. “I’m pretty sure a relationship isn’t always easy. I’m also fairly certain you’re going to get mad at each other. Sometimes really mad. You’re probably going to tell the other to fuck off. But then you work it out, and you work through whatever made you mad in the first place.”

She grabs the pillow from the top of the bed and pulls it into her lap, resting her arms on it as she continues while I remain silent. “She’s had a lot happen in the last few weeks, I won’t deny that, but I also know the changes she’s had in the last couple months since you showed up. Everyone here has seen a side of Hailey—a really, really good side of her—that we’ve never seen before. I’m dubbing it the Luke effect.”

A huge part of me wants to snarl at her and tell her to mind her own business, but I tamp down on it, refusing to let Quinn be a victim of my bad mood. I hate the relentless poking, though. The reminder that I’m sitting here, broken, numb, and full of pity, instead of out there doing something about it. The thing is, I know why I’m taking the beating.

Hailey told me what she needed, and she was right—I do always give it to her.

Yet everything inside of me screams that she’s wrong. Space isn’t what she needs. I’m what she needs.

But frick, that just makes me sound like a chauvinistic pig, thinking I know what’s best.

Dang it. I need out of my brain. The numbness is better than the constant circle I find myself in when I think about it.

Instead of answering Quinn’s observations, I deflect, changing the subject in the hopes she’ll leave me alone. “Why haven’t you ever had a relationship?”

My words surprise her. She sits up straighter, and when I look at her, her eyes widen subtly. “Me?”

I nod. “If I’m going to take relationship advice from someone who hasn’t even had one, I figure I better know why that is.”

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