Seriously. The irony. The one time in my life I actually thought about settling down. Forming a deep and meaningful relationship. Exploring something more than sex with someone, and she claimed to only want sex.
The thing was–I didn’t believe her.
Not after our talk the other day about me not being with anyone since the first night we spent together overseas. Not since our trip to California. I’d met her parents, knew her backstory. Knew why she pushed and did everything to prove herself competent and worthy. Since then, sex with her felt different. Better. Beyond Intimate.
As I stared at her closed door, I knew. She was running. Just like she’d run after Qatar. Sure, we were deployed, and our time hadn’t been our own. We had orders. Missions that took us to different countries. Even different continents.
Still, Quincy had intimacy issues. Who didn’t when fighting a war? I had no idea they extended this deep, though.
Giving up her job with Alpha Mountain just to run from me? And taking one from her dad who she didn’t even like?
It seemed crazy.
Why would she give up a job I’d thought she loved?
Ford had bought a helicopter specifically for her to come on board and fly it. He paid a hell of a lot better than the military. She had flexibility and adventure without the structure and rules of the Navy. Or her father. Sure, we did dangerous shit, but she lived for that stuff.
Whatever. I couldn’t figure her out, and right now, I didn’t want to. I’d tried. I stormed off, out of the bunk house and just… out.
I’d been there for her, tried to give her what she needed. I’d given it my best even when it seemed I had no fucking clue what that was. Nothing was going to make her change her mind now, especially if what she wanted to do was go work for her fucking father. Pursuing her harder was just going to make her run faster.
I kicked a stone with my shoe and sent it flying. I was done. Maybe having a serious relationship just wasn’t in the cards for me. Laying it all out there. Admitting I’d had blue balls for months over a woman had done nothing for me except… have blue balls for fucking months. It wasn’t worth it. Hell no. I should go back to meaningless sex. Go fuck that redhead at the bar.
Even as I thought it, I knew I wasn’t going to. My dick wasn’t going to stir for the waitress no matter how nice or pretty she was.
This thing with Quincy was like an open wound. It was going to take a while before I even looked at another woman again.
The only saving grace was that Quincy was leaving, for whatever her reasoning. I wouldn’t have to live under the same roof with her and suffer not having her. She’d be back in San Diego, around all those Navy men and work with them again.
“Fuck!” I shouted to the mountains.
That thought had me ready to butcher every last one of them. They’d see how amazing she was. How smart. Funny. Sexy. Brave. Adventurous. Wild. Then they’d want her.
But I had no rights to Quincy. She’d made that crystal clear. I needed to scrape her out of my mind, purge every thought, fantasy and feeling I had about her, or I wouldn’t be able to go on.
* * *
QUINCY
The next morning,Kennedy left me alone. It was a good thing because I couldn’t keep lying to him. I wasn’t great at it to begin with, but being pushed would make me blurt out the truth.
The truth that was making me sit on the cool tile of my bathroom floor, my stomach debating whether it wanted me to throw up again or not. I leaned against the bathtub and pushed my hair back.
I was a mess. My life was a mess. I’d fallen for a guy–yeah, I’d fallen hard–who didn’t want kids, and yet I was having one. His.
There was no question I was pregnant. Besides the stupid test, morning sickness was hard to ignore. Especially when it didn’t only happen in the morning.
I’d slept through the night tossing and turning, not from nausea, but from miserableness. I should have been down the hall in Kennedy’s bed, but look where that had gotten me. I’d skipped PT. Like a high schooler, I cut. A no-show. No one had bothered me or come knocking. Maybe Kennedy told them to give me some room.
None of the men wanted to face a crazy woman, and that was, absolutely, what Kennedy probably thought of me now.
After my alarm went off, I’d slept in. For hours. I hadn’t slept until ten since… before basic training. But this demon bean in my uterus wanted a nap. Then it wanted me to hurl, so I was woken up by a revolting stomach. I ran to the bathroom in time to empty my guts into the toilet.
That had been an hour ago. I was still here, sitting on my ass and waiting to feel better.
I didn’t think that was coming anytime soon. Not just because I had eight more months of this, but because I’d be leaving, and that meant leaving Kennedy and my job and–
“Ugh,” I muttered.