For All The Wrong Reasons Page 7

  I spent hours after he left wondering if the feelings coursing through my body were genuine or if I was only craving his touch because it had been so long since I had felt beautiful. Wanted. Loved.

  Whatever the reason was, I liked the way it made me feel. I like how he makes me feel. I can’t decide if that’s wrong or not, though.

  On the one hand, he wants Kara. I want Gavin back.

  This whole charade is so we can both get what we want. So we can find happiness with someone else.

  On the other . . . I like the way he makes me feel. But why?

  Are my feelings for him real? Or am I only feeling this way because I’m lonely?

  The summer we spent together, on the island with Jade & Nathan, I was lonely more times than I could count. I missed Gavin. I missed home. Sure, I had my friends and we had a ton of fun together, but the moments when I was alone, at night when I crawled into bed, a deep sense of loneliness would creep in and consume me.

  If I was lonely then and Quinn was there, why didn’t I run to him then? Why didn’t I see him as more than just a friend?

  And those thoughts are really what make me question continuing down this path with him now. Because the further we travel, the harder it’s going to be to make it back to where we started. As friends and nothing more.

  Yet here we are walking into the frat house together. Quinn’s hand is on the small of my back possessively as I weave our way through the overcrowded living room. The crowd seems to part as I approach the door to the kitchen, the bright florescent lights beaming out into the darkness, acting like a spotlight on us as we enter, temporarily blinding me.

  Raising my hand to shield my eyes from the overwhelming light, the first thing I notice is that we’re not alone. I didn’t expect us to be, considering this is where they keep all the booze. One pledge is always assigned to watch and make sure no one underage is being served. To play bartender for the night.

  A pledge that appears to be no more than eighteen years old, distracted by a video playing on his phone and already halfway to passing out. He barely looks in our direction, giving us a nod in the direction of the keg before redirecting his attention back to his screen.

  What I didn’t expect was to walk in and see a bleach-blond girl straddling someone sitting on the keg, blocking our access to the beer. In only a bra and jeans, her hips are rocking back and forth as she dry humps her date for the night. He’s happily helping her move, his white-knuckle grip on her hips, an indication she’s having the desired effect on him she was going for.

  “Why don’t we dance for a while,” Quinn suggests, his voice barely above a whisper as he leans in close to my ear. Wrapping his arms around me, he turns me toward the door before I have a chance to answer.

  That’s when I hear his voice.

  “Yeah, baby. You know I like that.”

  My steps falter, and Quinn bumps into the back of me but doesn’t move. Afraid to turn around and see his face, I keep my gaze focused on the blur of bodies rubbing seductively against each other only feet away from me. All swaying to the slow song the DJ is blaring through the speakers.

  My attention is drawn to one specific couple at the edge of the crowd. I’d bet money both are drunk already. There’s not an inch of space between their bodies as they shift left and right, their feet never moving, only their hips. Her arms are resting limply over his shoulder, the red plastic cup in her hand tilted just enough that every time they move, a little bit of her drink splashes out and onto the floor behind them.

  “Gabs,” Quinn says, his voice taking on a sorrowful tone.

  He knew who the blond chick was riding the entire time. He was trying to save me from the situation. And he would have if only Gavin wasn’t such a talker when he’s turned on.

  I used to love it. To enjoy listening to him tell me how much he liked it. When he wanted it harder. How he wanted me to ride him. To hear that he was enjoying himself was a turn on to me.

  To hear him say it to another woman . . . that I don’t enjoy.

  In fact, I’d be remiss if I didn’t admit to myself that it hurt, deep down, to know I’m not the only one who can turn him on. To see and hear for myself that he has, in fact, moved on from me.

  What am I even doing here if that’s the reality of my situation?

  Why am I even trying if he’s going to let some random girl ride him in the kitchen of the frat house where anyone and everyone can walk in on them?

  Sure, they have most of their clothes on. No, they aren’t having sex. Yet. You’d have to be an idiot to think the situation would lead anywhere but up to his bedroom.

  Still, there’s something wrong with it in my opinion. I thought that before I knew it was Gavin. Before it felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart and had slowly begun twisting the dagger.

  “Gabby,” Quinn says again, squeezing my hands lightly. His arms are still wrapped around me. My hands have found his and intertwined our fingers on their own accord. “Let’s dance.”

  Averting my gaze from the happily sedated couple I’d been watching, I don’t move until I locate an empty spot off to the other side of the room. That’s when I find the strength to step out of the bright lights of the kitchen and into the darkness. I swear I hear Gavin call my name, but I don’t stop. I don’t turn around. My only focus is the two feet of space between the couch that’s been pushed against the far wall and the crowd of sexually frustrated co-eds.

  I contemplate making a mad dash for the front door. I picture myself pulling it open, the cool air on the other side slapping me in the face, and the clicking of my heels against the concrete steps as I run as far and as fast as I can.

  As if reading my mind, Quinn spins me in his arms as soon as we reach our destination and pulls me against him, my head resting against his chest just below his chin. Fighting the tears that are threatening to fall, I close my eyes and focus on the feel of his body against mine.

  The warmth radiating from his skin erases the chill of bad memories that are threatening to ruin my night. The look in Gavin’s eyes when he broke up with me. The sound of his voice when we would make love. The grip he had on blondie’s hips as he pulled her across his lap in the kitchen.

  A sense of inner peace washes over me as I push those thoughts from my mind. It lets me relish in how safe I feel in Quinn’s arms. Untouchable.

  I know we’ll see Gavin tonight at some point. It’s inevitable. It’s the entire reason we came. But I don’t want to think about that right now.

  “Are you okay?” Quinn asks after a few minutes.

  The music changes again, this time to a rock song, making it hard to hear myself think, let alone hear Quinn. I feel like I’m screaming as I tell him I’m fine. I must not have sounded convincing enough, though, because seconds later, his hand is under my chin, tilting my head up.

  His eyes search mine for a long time before he leans down, placing a soft kiss to my lips.

  “What was that for?” I ask, pushing up on my tiptoes so I’m closer to his ear and don’t have to scream over the music.

  “For being stronger than you realize.”

  Chapter Twelve

  QUINN

  When I realized the girl providing a lap dance on the keg was the same girl I’d seen Gavin with around campus lately, I tried to get Gabby out of the kitchen, but I wasn’t quick enough. The bastard just had to open his mouth.

  I saw her body tense as realization set in. Her spine straightened, and she slid to a stop just inside the kitchen.

  Of all the things I was prepared for tonight, this was not one of them. I was prepared to confront him tonight. I was prepared to deal with drunk frat boys and even drunker sorority girls. Hell, I was even prepared for the cold shower I was going to have to take as soon as I got home from touching Gabby all night.

  But this . . . this wasn’t something I thought would happen.

  So I did the one thing I could think of to try and calm her down. I wrapped her in my arms, and she immediat
ely found my hands, gripping them for support. There was a war raging inside her, and only she could make the decision of what our next move was.

  I gave her thirty seconds to calm down and decide if we were going to turn and face him or if we were going to disappear into the sea of bodies in front of us. She never budged. It was as if she zoned out, so I asked her to dance. I knew I’d be able to keep her safe, to comfort her, as long as we left the kitchen.

  At first I thought he spotted her as we were walking out of the kitchen when he called out her name. I looked over my shoulder just in time to see his date slap him across the face, demanding to know who Gabby was. Accusing him of cheating on her with another girl.

  I wanted to laugh. To point out that he threw her out like a piece of trash and that he was never going to get her back.

  That’s when reality slapped me across the face.

  We were here so he could. To flaunt our relationship in front of him so he’d come crawling back to Gabby.

  And I was here, helping him get what he wanted.

  Therefore, I was going to make the most of the time we had before this ended.

  I held Gabby close the rest of the night. Slowly running my hand up and down her back. Moving our bodies to the music. Finding ways to kiss her. On the lips, the neck, the top of the head. It didn’t matter.

  If she was going to let Gavin back in, I wanted her to raise her standards. He needed to treat her with respect. She needed to feel loved and cherished. Safe in his arms.

  I wanted to make her feel that way so she knew what it felt like. That way, if he didn’t make her feel that way, she would know. Maybe she’d even turn him away, change her mind about what she really wanted. About who she wanted to be with.

  I was starting to reconsider what I wanted out of this relationship, contract or no contract.

  “Should we go?” Gabby asks, leaning her head back and looking up at me. Her face is a mix of emotions. Happy and sad. Nervous and content. But what I see in her eyes paints the biggest picture for me.

  Uncertainty mixed with desire.

  I have a feeling my eyes mirror the same emotions.

  Nodding, I slowly slide my hands from her hips up to her cheeks, never breaking eye contact. Leaning in, I rest my forehead against hers and let out a sigh. Our lips are mere inches from each other’s, our breaths intermingling when someone taps my shoulder.

  My gut says swing first and ask questions later. Whoever just ruined this moment must pay the consequences for their actions.

  It’s my heart that wins the battle, though. I see the smirk Gabby’s trying to hide as I pull away. I almost don’t want to turn and acknowledge our uninvited guest. I want to stay in our little bubble, to live in that bubble and ignore the rest of the world.

  But then he clears his throat and the thought of throwing punches is back. I find myself clenching my hands into fists as I slowly turn, placing my body in front of Gabby.

  “Can I help you?” I practically spit out each word as I attempt to contain my irritation for the asshole standing in front of me.

  “You can move so I can talk to Gabby.”

  His speech is slurred. We’ve been here for over an hour and never went back into the kitchen for a drink. It appears he may have been drinking straight from the keg while enjoying his lap dance.

  “Another time, maybe. We were just leaving,” I state, pushing past him as I wrap my arm around Gabby’s waist.

  “Gabby, wait!” Gavin hollers after us, causing her steps to falter slightly. “I just want to talk to you. Please.”

  Maybe it’s the fact he’s talking slowly in an attempt to sound sober, but the man sounds desperate and sincere. Not that I care. He’s a piece of shit in my opinion. He doesn’t deserve even a minute of Gabby’s time.

  Especially after the scene he caused earlier.

  When Gabby pulls me to a stop and looks over her shoulder, I close my eyes and let out a sigh.

  “Give me two minutes, okay. Then we can go.”

  Jealousy courses through my veins as I watch them disappear down an adjacent hall. I know where it leads. All the bedrooms. His included.

  Two minutes turns into three and then five. I stare at the time on my phone, watching the minutes tick by slowly. At seven minutes, I slide my phone back into my pocket and prepare to go in search of what’s mine. Of Gabby.

  I don’t have to search far. She’s standing outside an open door, hands on her hips, shaking her head at him. He’s gesturing for her to enter the room but she’s standing her ground.

  Pride is all I can feel.

  A month ago, she would have jumped at the chance to be alone in his bedroom with him again. Tonight she’s refusing his advances. She really is stronger than she realizes. And I’m proud of her for finding that strength when she needed it most. At a time when it would have been easy to give in.

  “I’m done,” she says as I silently approach down the dark hallway, the only light filtering into it through Gavin’s open door. “If you want to talk, if you have something to say, say it. Quinn’s waiting for me so we can leave.”

  “Why’d you come here if this isn’t what you wanted, then?” Gavin takes a step toward Gabby, and she matches him, stepping backward to keep distance between them. “Are you trying to rub it in my face that you’re over me? Well, mission accomplished.”

  He has her pinned against the wall before I can reach them.

  “You want me to be jealous, well, I am! Is he as good as I am? Does he make you come as fast as I did?”

  “Gavin, stop!” she yells, pressing her hands against his chest, but it’s all in vain. She’s not strong enough to move him.

  I am, though.

  Grabbing on to the back of his shirt, I tug him hard. Unprepared for me, he falls to the ground. His surprise is evident as he quickly stands and reaches for Gabby. As I place my body between him and her, Gabby wraps her arms around me and snuggles into the back of my shirt.

  “I suggest you leave her alone, Gavin. It doesn’t look like she wants to talk to you anymore.”

  “This is none of your business,” he snarls, trying to sidestep me, but I mirror his move, keeping Gabby tucked safely behind me.

  “It became my business the moment Gabby and I started seeing each other. Her problems are my problems. We’re a team. That’s how a relationship works.”

  “You think after dating for a few weeks you know what she wants. We were together for years, Quinn. Longer than you’ve known each other. I know her better than anyone else.”

  “Maybe that’s true, but I know one thing you don’t.”

  I’m baiting him. The look in his eye tells me that he knows it, but his curiosity is too strong.

  “And what’s that?”

  “I know how to make her feel loved, to make her feel special. And I also know she’s ready to go home now so I can show her how much I love her.”

  His jaw drops open at my statement. I feel his angry glare as I guide Gabby down the hall, away from the asshole formerly known as her boyfriend. The man who was trying to get in her pants tonight to fulfill his needs, not hers. It makes me wonder if he ever really attended to or cared about her needs when they were together. Or was it all about him?

  What he wanted.

  What he needed.

  All it took was one look at her and I knew she wasn’t interested. Not to mention the fact she came here with me. Her boyfriend as far as he knows. And even if she did want to be with him, that would have made her a cheater. I’m sure he could have lived with that, but I know Gabby well enough to know she would never forgive herself if she cheated on someone.

  Whether we’re in a ‘real’ relationship or not.

  That’s just who she is. Her morals are strong. As strong as her resolve to not be intimidated and coerced into something she doesn’t want.

  “Thank you,” she whispers to me as I open the door to my truck for her and then help her inside.

  “For what?”

  “For
rescuing me,” she replies, averting her eyes.

  “You didn’t need me to rescue you, Gabs. From where I was standing, you had it under control until he decided to cross the line. I intervened for my sanity. If he had touched you—”

  Her gaze flicks to mine, and I cut myself off mid-sentence. I don’t want her to hear how out of control I felt. I don’t want her to hear how I would have torn him limb from limb if he had hurt her.

  These are things she doesn’t need to hear. I guarantee the look on my face says it all.

  Chapter Thirteen

  GABRIELLE

  Inviting Quinn inside isn’t the best decision. Still, after the way things turned out tonight, all I want is to feel safe. The safest place I can think of is in his arms.

  I’d taken off my shoes in his truck and carry them inside. He pops the buttons on his sleeves and then rolls them up as I find us a movie to watch.

  I lean into him, resting my head against his shoulder.

  It’s perfect until my mind starts to wander from the movie.

  We used to sit like this all the time on the beach. There’d be a bonfire blazing in front of us, people dancing around us, loud music . . . and then there was us. Quietly cuddled under a blanket, staring into the fire. No words were spoken, they didn’t need to be.

  We were content in our own little world.

  It wasn’t sexual. There was no attraction back then. We were surrounded by our friends and coworkers. Nothing was going to happen. It wasn’t even on my mind.

  The innocence of those nights, the way we were always drawn to each other instead of acting like fools, are beautiful memories that I will always cherish. Memories that I’m trying really hard not to analyze over and over again.

  Were we ever just friends?

  Was there always an attraction there? Whether we knew it or not.

  “Don’t,” he whispers to me, reaching for my hands to stop me from fidgeting with the fringe on the blanket I pulled over us.