Indefinite (Salvation #6)(49)

I’m on cloud nine . . . or maybe ten, if that’s a thing.

“I still can’t breathe,” I say as we exit the theater. “The love and the heartbreak. I just . . .”

“It was a great show,” he admits almost begrudgingly.

“Yeah, it was. My little Oz-loving heart is overjoyed.”

“I’m glad.”

This has been the best date of my life. “Thank you,” I say as we move back into the throngs of people.

“For?”

“Everything. The dinner, the date, the walk, the show, and not to mention how you took my big bomb drop.”

He pulls me to his side, one arm wrapped around my shoulders as I press closer to him. We walk like a couple in love, which maybe we are. I don’t know. Whatever we are, I don’t want to focus on it this second.

I want to enjoy the moment.

Us.

“Did I impress you?” Quinn asks as we find seats on the subway, still wrapped up around each other.

“Very much. Who knew under all that stupid was a guy that was so romantic?”

He smiles and laughs but I can still see the questions swirling in his gaze. When his attention drops to my lips, I know he wants to kiss me. I want it, too, but now that we’re flying away from the hustle of the city and back to my reality in Brooklyn, I wonder if I should.

While tonight was a night I’ll not soon forget, it doesn’t mean that our lives are less complicated.

My head and heart are struggling for the choice, and because no one side wins out, I turn and look away.

It’s not because I don’t love him. It’s because I love him so much that I wouldn’t survive another loss.

He’s the one guy I can’t seem to quit.

“Ashton.” Quinn barely whispers my name.

“Yes?” The fear in my voice doesn’t go unmissed.

“I don’t want you to be afraid anymore. I know I have to earn your trust again. When we get back to your place, I have one last surprise.”

My eyes narrow because that’s not a surprise. I’m well acquainted with what he wants to do in my apartment. I even have the baby as a souvenir.

“I bet you do.”

He laughs, despite the seriousness of a few seconds ago. “Not that—although, I won’t turn you away. Looking at you all night has been . . . hard.”

The dirty jokes float through my brain. “I’m not going to apologize if I’m making things hard on you.”

I look at his crotch. I really do love his dick. Maybe one more night won’t be a mistake. It’s not like I can get pregnant—again. Enjoying sex after a night like this would be a reasonable thing to do, right?

“Oh, I’ll show you hard,” he grumbles with his lips to my ear. “I’ll show you how very, very hard things can get.”

I try to smother my shiver, but I fail. Whatever. It’s not like he doesn’t know how much I enjoy sex with him.

“We should probably stop,” I suggest.

Quinn shifts in his seat, but he doesn’t let me go. “I promise to be a gentleman. I just would like this next part to be in private.”

I have no idea what it could be, but it seems to matter to him. I worry my bottom lip and then nod. “Okay.”

Then I say a silent prayer to the heavens that this isn’t another let down.





“Why don’t you go change, you can’t be comfortable,” Quinn suggests as he shrugs out of his suit jacket.

“Now you’re scaring me.”

Why would it matter what I’m wearing?

He runs his hand down his face and releases a groan. “I’m . . . it’s nothing bad, Ashton. Just, I hate seeing you uncomfortable all night.”

Was I uncomfortable? I don’t think so. Sure, the dress kept riding up and my boobs are so freaking sore that I couldn’t wear a bra, but I didn’t think that was anything big.

“Do I need to change for this talk? I’d rather not delay it since my overactive imagination has conjured a million different possibilities.”

He rolls his eyes, probably seeing that my patience is non-existent and he’s going to lose this fight. “No, I guess not.”

“Okay then, talk.”

Quinn doesn’t do that though, he takes a paper out of his pants pocket, and unfolds it. Then, he takes two strides over to me and extends it. “Here, I wanted to show you this.”

What the hell is it? Maybe it’s a warrant for his arrest. Or a deed to a house. Oh, or it could be a letter saying he won some kind of prize. Maybe it’s a paternity test for another girl he wooed. With Quinn, I never know.

However, of all the other possibilities I thought of. None of them prepared me for this.

I look up, my eyes meeting his and my lips parted. “This is a discharge paper.”

“Yes.”

“From the navy.”

“Yes.”

“With your name on it,” I say, needing to keep clarifying each point.

“It is. I’m officially out in thirty days. I’m technically on leave, and I don’t have to go back, so I guess, I’m out now,” he rambles.

My gaze drops to the paper again, waiting for the joke to finally hit. “You . . . got out of the navy?”