I hadn’t heard that nickname since Qatar.
“So’s Lee,” I countered.
“Yeah, but you know I’ll give it to you just how you like it.”
I stepped close like I might actually be willing to partake, then I punched him in the stomach. Because he was fit as fuck, his abs were like slabs of granite, and he only let out an oomph.
“I’m not interested in taking a number like at the deli counter with the other women.”
“Yet, you like my salami.” He grinned.
“Oh my God.” I stepped around him and walked off.
* * *
KENNEDY
I should’ve been flirtingwith Holly, Indi’s friend who was actually interested in me. Instead, I was achieving a new level of pathetic getting shot down–again–by Quincy.
I watched her ass twitch in that short white sundress, her lean, muscular legs descending into those cowgirl boots turning every male head in the bar.
She couldn’t really be interested in that asshole, could she?
No. Fucking. Way.
Lee Landers was… lame. His name made him sound like a 70’s movie star. Obviously just out to get one thing from her. I wanted to rip his lungs from his body and watch him suffocate.
Okay, maybe that was a little drastic, but–fuck.
Quincy deserved so much better. She deserved a guy who knew she was more than a pair of great legs and a winning smile. A guy who knew just exactly how talented, hard-working and loyal she was.
A guy she’d shared real life and death experiences with.
Fuck. I wanted that guy to be me, but I was so far from the mark of what was right for her, it made my chest ache.
I wasn’t sure what Quincy wanted from a man, but she’d made it clear she didn’t want a repeat of the night we’d shared in Qatar. Even though we’d gotten so tight during those twenty-four hours, I thought she might be the one. After ten years of soulless port sex without a single relationship to show for it, I was ready to change my ways.
Especially after watching Ford and Hayes get pussy whipped.
My scandalous sex life–the one I began long before I even graduated high school as an act of rebellion against my parents’ expectations that I marry well–came to a screaming halt.
I was ready to bring Quincy back to DC and introduce her to the family. That wouldn’t go all that well. They’d hate her to start with since her aspirations in life were more than being a trophy wife who sat on charity boards. Still, I’d flaunt her nonetheless, and they’d pull out the commitment and service to our nation bullshit for her as well.
It didn’t matter though.
Quincy hadn’t just walked away.
She’d run.
And she was still running.
She strutted past Lee, saying something to him before heading to the ladies’ room. I glanced at the table where her friends sat. Holly looked this way. She was pretty in her girl next doorway.
Old me would’ve already nailed Holly at least three times since I moved to Sparks. Old me would’ve already had every available woman in this bar.
New me? Post-Quincy me?
I wasn’t feeling it. I hadn’t felt anything–or anyone–since Quincy.