Indefinite (Salvation #6)(18)

Knock, knock, knock.

Well, whoever it is, they don’t possess the gift of patience.

I get up, grab my bat that sits by the front door because the asshole superintendent painted our doors including our peepholes, and open it.

“You’re like a cockroach!” I say with exasperation when I see Quinn, who I was hoping it wasn’t.

“That would’ve been a good call sign.”

I roll my eyes. “I think you live up to yours pretty well, Ladykiller. You killed a part of me.”

Quinn steps forward, eyeing the bat. I raise a brow in challenge because I’m not afraid to hit him. Maybe it would knock some sense into the asshole. Though, we both know he could have the bat out of my hand and have me tossed on the floor with my arms behind my back before I could lift the damn thing.

“I never wanted to.”

I sigh and push the door open. “Might as well come in.”

He enters my apartment and looks around, always surveying the scene.

At first, I couldn’t understand it, but after Catherine explained that it’s their training, I found myself doing it too. I know where the exits are, I hate sitting with my back to the door, and I’m always paying attention to little things.

What he sees is that I haven’t cleaned in a week and still haven’t unpacked from my trip to California. Besides that, everything is still the same. I haven’t changed or done much of anything since I moved in.

Finally, he looks at me with a smile. “The only thing I hope to kill is the hatred you have toward me.”

“I don’t hate you. That’s the issue.”

Quinn’s head bobs as he moves around. “You don’t love me, that’s also the issue.”

If he only knew.

“Maybe you should’ve given me a reason to love you.”

Quinn’s eyes soften as he stares at me. “I’d like to give you them now.”

I sigh and shake my head. “It’s too late.”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t believe you.”

He’s so damn arrogant some days. Today being one of them. I just wish I weren’t getting slightly turned on by it.

There’s something wrong with me.

Only I would find him standing here, looking all badass and ready to win me back, sexy. He’s the guy who has failed me time and time again.

I sit on the couch and glare at him. “In case you missed what happened on the street earlier, things have changed. We’re not the same people anymore. I’m not in love with you, and we both know you’re not in love with me.”

He smirks. “Do we now?”

“I sure do.”

“And what exactly is it that you know?”

“The sheer volume of things would floor you,” I say back with sarcasm.

Quinn sits beside me. “Then, feel free to enlighten me.”

Fine. “First, you don’t love me.”

“I disagree,” he interrupts.

“Good for you, but it’s true.”

He shifts closer so his leg presses against mine. “How do you know what’s true, Ash? How can you know? I’m here. I’m sitting next to you, even with the information you dropped on the street. I don’t care if you’re pregnant, I want you.”

This is totally backfiring on me, so I change tactics. Quinn is a jealous and possessive guy. I have to make him think there’s someone else. “I love the baby’s father.”

That makes him stop inching toward me. “Don’t lie to me, fragolina. You already told me there was no one else.”

Fuck. I forgot that I said that on the porch. “I lied then.”

He laughs once. “Nice try.” And then he moves as if he’s going to climb over me. The only option I have is to move back to avoid his mouth.

“I don’t love you.”

“I think you do, but that’s for another time.”

I’m now lying flat on my back as he braces himself above me. How the hell did I get here? My whole entire mission was to piss him off and make him leave me alone. However, he’s doesn’t seem to have the same ideas that I do.

Doesn’t he see how much it breaks me to be this weak to him? It’s exhausting trying to be so strong all the time. My heart is racing and my palms are sweating as I try to formulate a way out of this situation. I could knee him in the balls, but that would be mean. I could yell and push him away, but I don’t want to.

“What do you want, Ash?”

You.

I want you.

I’m not strong enough for this. My fingers slide up his back, and he winces. “Quinn?”

“It’s fine.”

I sit up, shoving him back with me. “Let me see.”

Unlike a normal person, he doesn’t lift the back of his shirt. No, he pulls it off, giving me the other thing on him I can’t resist . . . the perfect view of his washboard abs.

As much as I’d like to ogle him, I can’t appreciate the unbelievable shape of his body because there are angry red marks and a bandage right under the tattoo of the frog skeleton on the right side of his chest that wraps around to his back.

“I told you I came home a few days early.”

“You just said you were fine.”

He leans back, brushing his hand over his face. “And I am fine.”