Fighting Solitude (On The Ropes #3)(44)

“I’m not sure about a barrel, but I have at least one in the outside fridge,” he replied, helping her through the window.

Two of her fingers shot back through the opening. “Peace out, ladies.”

We called after her.

“Bye.”

“Later.”

Then Eliza turned her attention my way. “Are you sure everything’s okay? You seem…weirder than usual.”

“Weirder than usual? That’s exactly what I was going for this morning.”

“I just mean…”

“I know, I know. I’m exhausted. That’s all. I’m gonna nap until the coffee arrives. Then I’m going to drink it and then nap some more.”

She gave me the side eye but let it go.

I was acting weirder than usual, but that was only the tip of the iceberg for what was going on inside me.

We watched Project Runway for about five minutes until Eliza dozed off. If I’d known that Quarry would be up so early, I would have stayed locked in my room, pretending to sleep, while I paced my room all day. I loved a lazy hangover party as much as the next girl, but the real reason I was there was to collect my thoughts before I had to face him.

My mind raced with explanations for the night before, but it was sleep that finally won out.




I was sound asleep when the futon disappeared from under me. “Shit.” I flailed, trying to catch myself before hitting the ground.

“Shhh,” Quarry whispered, holding me cradled in his arms.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice thick with sleep.

He tipped his head to the side and gave me an impatient glare. “Shh!” He jutted his chin toward Eliza, who was softly snoring on the couch.

“Put me down. I can walk.”

He didn’t listen. Instead, he carried me to the window and carefully guided me back into Till and Eliza’s bedroom. After folding his large body through, he caught my hand and dragged me down the hall to his old bedroom.

He hadn’t lived there in over six years, but it still looked like eighteen-year old Quarry would be coming back at any moment. Posters lined the walls, and boxing trophies and medals covered the rest. Two oak nightstands framed a queen-sized bed covered by a midnight-blue comforter. A single photo of Quarry, Mia, and me at Flint and Ash’s wedding graced the dresser.

I was lost in nostalgia until I heard the door shut.

“I went to check on you this morning, but you were already gone. What the hell are you doing over here so early?” he asked roughly.

“Uhh, Eliza and I made a date last night for a hangover party.”

His lips twisted in disbelief. “At six in the morning?”

“What? I had to stop and get breakfast.”

“For two hours?” He arched an angry eyebrow. “Till told me you got here at eight.”

Note to self: When trying to escape Quarry Page, do not run to his brother’s house for refuge.

“I…I wasn’t sure what I wanted to eat, so I drove around until something sounded good.”

“Right.” He thrust a hand into his hair but stared down at the floor. “Listen, we need to talk about last night.”

Fantastic. He wasn’t going to beat around the bush. I guessed now was as good a time as any.

I quickly started before I had to hear his explanation. “I’m really sorry. I guess I got a little handsy. I fell asleep listening to ‘Pony.’ I must have had Channing Tatum on the brain.”

His gaze lifted to mine, and the strangest tinge of disappointment showed in his eyes.

“Channing Tatum, huh?” His hands fisted on his hips.

“I don’t know. I don’t really remember. It could have been Chris Hemsworth, I suppose. I mean, if I was willing to grab your junk, it might have been a kinky combination of the two.” I shrugged.

Shaking his head, he began to pace the room. “Wow. Thanks.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is that all you remember?”

Funny enough, no. It was just all I was willing to acknowledge. The rest…

God. The rest.

Those callused fingers of his gliding deliciously between my legs.

Or maybe he was asking about the part where he so skillfully rolled my nipple that it felt as if he had found a direct line to my clit—a few minutes more and I could have come from that alone.

Or perhaps, just perhaps, he was asking about the way he’d pushed his long finger so deep inside me that I would have happily kicked any combination of men in the world out a window just to experience it with him again.

If that was what he meant, then my answer should have been: I can’t f*cking forget it!

Blinking in mock confusion, I said, “Why? Did something else happen?”

He laughed without humor. “Yeah. Liv. Something else happened.”

After sucking in a deep breath, he held it as he sank down on the corner of the bed. With a fast exhale through his nose, he rushed out, “I guess I was dreaming about someone or whatever too.”

Uh huh. Mia.

“Really?” I breathed in fake disbelief.

Dropping his head into his hands, he continued. “Fuck, I don’t know what to say here. I just remember waking up—” He chewed on his bottom lip. “My hand…was in your pants and your shirt was pushed up. I’m sorry. I guess I’m not used to sleeping with anyone else.”