Fallacy (Apprehensive Duet Book 1) (33 page)

Quinn doesn’t say anything in response. She just glares at me as if she’s unsure what she should do here.

I use her silence as a way in and glide past her. “You’ve been going out of your way for the last two years to avoid me whenever possible, and I hear the wedding is rather close. I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss the chance to wish you well before the big day.”

In a split second, her whole demeanor changes. Her posture is rigid. Her shoulders squared. Eyes hard. Her guard is up and locked into place. “Jordan will be here any minute if you’d like to offer him your congratulations as well. I actually thought you were him.”

The clock is ticking. I need to act fast before she kicks me out of here. “I’d love to meet him,” I lie. I have to remind her of us and how good we are together, now. “It's been a long time, Quinn.”

“I know. It was intentional,” she retorts. She thinks by being blunt and harsh with me she’s going to be able to keep me away. But she forgets I’m probably the one person in this world who knows her best. This act means she’s extremely affected by me and doesn’t want anyone to see. I want to react and enjoy this revelation, but now is not the time.

I can feel the warmth radiating off of her body as I step closer to her. “You seem very stressed right now. Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” she answers, taking a step back still holding the door open.

I take another step closer to her, and I close the door. I place a finger under her chin, tipping it up, forcing her to look at me. “You don’t seem okay to me. You look sad. Why are you sad, angel?” I didn’t come here expecting to have any kind of physical interaction with her. I just planned on talking to her. But I can’t resist the urge to touch her. It’s so fucking powerful. I feel as if I may die if I don’t feel her skin on mine.

Her eyes close and she takes a deep breath. “I’m fine, Alex.” Her voice isn’t as hard anymore.

I don’t say anything. I just trail my finger down her neck and trace little circles on her collarbone. I know it makes me an asshole, but I just barely control myself. Then I decide to get bold.

“Does your fiancé touch you like this?” I ask sketching my finger over the swell of her perfect tits. God, I love those tits. The way they mold perfectly to my hands. The way her pretty pink tips would stand proud the moment I put my mouth on them. I watch as her chest rises and falls, telling me no matter what her mouth says, she still does very much want me even if she doesn’t want to.

“Is this why you’re so sad? Not getting what you need? Do you let him fuck you? Or does he go on letting you fuck him, too blind to notice the two of you really aren’t connecting?” I ask, needing to know. Just because she’s not sleeping with him now doesn’t mean she hasn’t before. Ashley didn’t say anything other than she wasn’t having sex now.

I take the gasp she lets out as a cue for more. Gliding my hand down her side, I slide it around to her ass. Giving it a good squeeze, I lean close and whisper. “What about here? Have you let him in your ass yet? I remember how much you liked it. Has anyone else been where only I’ve been, Quinn?”

I knew it was a bad move the moment the words left my mouth, but some part of me deep inside needs to know if she’s letting him—or anyone—have her here. It was something special between us, and I don’t think I could bear it right now if another man had been in there. Nothing about tonight was supposed to be about sex. I didn’t come here to remind her of that aspect of our life together, but I seem unable of stopping myself. I still feel she’s mine. Even with all the distance and pain between us, we’re extremely affected by each other. I was right—we just needed to be alone together.

Shoving me back, her face turns red and her voice angry, “This is why we could never be more, Alex. Right here, right now.”

“Why’s that?” I ask, my curiosity piqued. Will she finally tell me why she left me? But I’m even more intrigued by the anger radiating from her. Anger is good. I remember her saying to Tanner once that Ashley being angry with him was a good thing. The anger meant she still cared, she still loved him. Quinn’s angry with me. She still cares. Whatever comes out of her mouth next is an enormous piece of the puzzle of Quinn I’ve been working on for four years.

An evil smirk spreads across her face, almost as if she feels she’s about to put the final nail in our coffin. “Because you have no problem touching what’s not yours. You have no problems with cheating.”

Cheating? This whole thing has been about cheating? I’m floored. What the fuck? “I’ve never cheated on anyone. Especially not you.” I try to shove my emotions back down where I’ve been hiding them for what seems like forever. I don’t want anything that plays across my face or the tone of my voice to put any more crazy ideas in her head. It’s harder than I expected. I want to scream and shake some sense into her. I want to demand she tell me how in the hell she came up with the idea that I could’ve cheated on her. From the very depths of my soul, I loved this woman. There was no need for anyone else. She was my entire life.

Shaking her head in a way that could be taken as irritation or sadness, she merely shrugs and says, “Maybe, maybe not. It’s irrelevant at this point. But either way, you still condone it and see it as okay.”

“I’m not the one who’s cheating, Quinn. You are mine! Have been mine for the last four years. I’m just following your lead.” Before she can say another word, I turn and walk away from her, right out the door, as I try to wrap my head around everything I just learned. When did I ever give her the impression I think cheating is okay? I have no clue, and I really wish I did so I can get to the bottom of this mess and fucking fix it.

Quinn

Emma, Blair, and I stand in the center of the bridal store and wait for the assistant to bring out our dresses. Today will be the first time I try on my wedding dress. I ordered off the rack, but asked them to make a few extra changes to the dress. I’m curious to see how it will look.

I hear the bell above the door jingle, and Ashley walks through, pushing Michaela’s stroller with a small smile on her face.

I haven’t seen or spoken to her since she stormed out of my office two weeks ago. I have no idea what to expect from her. Our last encounter didn’t go so well. Will she continue to push for me to rethink my decision or will she let it go?

I don’t say anything as Ashley approaches our group. I wait to see what she’s going to do first.

“Good morning,” she says timidly as she joins the three of us. Her eyes bounce around the room telling me she’s wary of this reunion as well.

“Morning,” I reply with a neutral tone. I don’t like the feeling of discord hanging around. I’ve never felt this disconnected from Ashley before. Not even the day we met. I don’t want to come off harsh and cause her to go into battle mode again here in the middle of the dress fittings.

Michaela makes a couple of grunts from her stroller, breaking the ice a little. Ashley’s smile grows a little wider as I push back the hood on the massive contraption she’s in. A pair of wide blue-green eyes stare back at me from inside.

“Hello, princess,” I smile back at her adorableness.

“Ms. Taylor, I have the bridesmaid dresses here,” the sales assistant, Marta, informs me as she guides us to the small alcove where the fitting rooms are located.

“I’ll stay with her while you go try your dress on,” I offer with a tentative smile. God, this whole shit makes me feel like I’m dealing with a stranger. I don’t fucking like it. At all.

Ash nods at me and grabs her dress from Marta, as do Blair and Emma, and they head into the fitting rooms.

“She’s gorgeous,” Marta comments. “How old is she?”

“Hmm,” I think for a second. “A little over two months.”

“I remember when mine were little. Enjoy them while they’re small. It doesn’t last long.” Her eyes go wistful as if she’s remembering a time her kids were this tiny.

I glance down at Michaela and think back to a time when I had wanted children. I used to want two, a boy and a girl. I was an only child and always jealous of my friends who had siblings when I was younger. My parent’s procreation requirement was filled with me. There was no need for them to have more kids. Dad couldn’t be bothered with family, we were just a tax deduction for him. Mom, on the other hand, was great, but if I’m honest, there was a shift with her around the time I was ten. I wonder if that’s when she started to regret the life she signed up for.

“How does it look?” Ashley says as she stops in front of me and models her dress. I went with a short cocktail-style dress. It’s actually pretty simple–an A-line dress with a chiffon overlay. It's fitted from the waist up, but the skirt is free-flowing and moves with you.

“You look beautiful,” I answer truthfully. She looks stunning. The dark-grey color, not black like Ashley originally thought, makes her eyes shine. I love the darker color for people with blue eyes. I love the way my own eyes look when I’m wearing black.

“Thank you,” she smiles. “Can you take a picture with my phone?” she requests. “I want to show Tanner later.”

Of course she does. She looks beautiful, and when Tanner sees her in that dress, she’s definitely going to get bent over something. I grab her phone from the cup holder in the stroller and snap a few pictures of her.

After checking out the pics I took, she walks over to the seamstress and leans in asking her a question. They’re speaking very low so I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I do see the woman’s eyes go a little round before nodding her head. I see her lips move, asking Ashley a question in return, but again I can’t hear what she’s saying.

My vision is blocked when Blair and Emma come out of the dressing room. “What do you think?” Emma asks.

I glance between the two of them before responding, “It looks great. You both look fabulous.”

Marta comes back over carrying a large dress bag, “Your turn,” she smiles.

Ashley, who managed to change out of her dress in the short time I was talking with Emma and Blair, comes to grab the baby. “I can’t wait to see the dress you picked,” she says with a sad smile, almost as if she’s sad she hasn’t seen it yet.

I follow Marta to the dressing room where she hangs the dress up and tells me to call her when I’m ready to have the thirty buttons down the middle of the back of the dress buttoned.

It takes me about ten minutes to get into the dress and get the bottom half of the buttons done. I call Marta in to finish the rest, and we stand looking at my reflection in the mirror. The dress is beautiful, but the person looking back at me in the mirror doesn’t look like me at all.

I walk out of the dressing room and around the corner. A collective gasp fills the air as I stand in the front of the three women who will stand by me as I marry Jordan.

“You look stunning,” Ashley exhales. She reaches up to wipe a tear from her eye, and it confuses the hell out of me. Why is she getting so emotional? What’s with the one-eighty she’s done?

I stand there for a few minutes while the girls take some pictures. The seamstress comes and does whatever it is she does. She asks me if I want any further alterations done. I do actually, so I ask her to add a loop to the bottom of the dress to place around my wrist to keep the train off the floor.

We wrap everything up, and as we’re walking out of the shop, Ashley pulls me aside. “Can we talk for a minute?”

I nod and tell Blair and Emma I’ll give them a call later. “What’s up?”

“You looked beautiful. You’ll make a gorgeous bride,” she says with a little laugh and more tears.

“Thanks,” I say, still not sure what to make of her behavior today.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she cries a little more. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“Just because I don’t understand this doesn’t mean I don’t still love you. I don’t like this distance. I don’t like being an outsider in your life. This isn’t us,” she sighs.

“I don’t either,” I agree. Even with how angry I am at her for the way she’s been acting regarding the wedding, I’ve missed her. This is an important time in my life. A time you share with the people closest to you. Planning Ashley’s wedding was something she shared with me, she asked my opinions, included me in everything. And I loved it despite my feelings on the subject.

“Can we move forward from this?” she cries. I mean, she’s actually crying.

“Yes, we can,” I say extending my hand to squeeze her arm. I’m a little stunned with how quickly I agree to move past this. I think her tears make it hard to stay mad when it’s clear that she's been just as upset as I’ve been about everything. “What’s with all the tears? I haven’t seen you this emotional since you were pregnant.”

She peers up at me from under her lashes and a ghost of a grin forms on her lips. “Well…” she starts.

“No way,” I gasp. She just spat a kid out, and now she’s got another bun baking in the oven?

“It wasn’t planned,” she laughs, wiping the remaining tears from under her eyes.

“Weren’t you supposed to wait like two months before you could have sex again?” I ask, trying to wrap my head around a new baby.

“Yeah, but…” she chuckles. “I couldn’t help myself. I may not have waited the full six weeks. Seeing Tanner in daddy mode is a real turn on. We just found out yesterday. I thought because I was breastfeeding, we’d be good on the protection, but yeah, I was wrong.”