Page 57 of No Turning Back
Alright. New plan. I’ll be her friend, her person. Then, when she’s divorced, I’ll ask her out. If she says yes, everything changes. If not, we stay roommates. Friends. I’m not losin’ her again, even if it means bein’ just a friend forever.
I drift off with Blue breathing beside me, holding on to hope she’ll say yes.
Morning light cuts through the blinds. Blue’s gone, probably parked by her bowl. I hear Quinn moving around in the kitchen.
Groaning, I roll out of bed and pull on an old flannel and jeans good enough for yard work. I head to the bathroom but skip the shower, no point in showering before. The bunkhouse needs airing anyway; skunks raised hell in there.
When I walk into the kitchen, she’s already dressed. Jeans, blouse too nice for morning, hair pulled back messy but somehow perfect. She jumps when she sees me, coffee nearly spilling.
“Morning,” I say, casual as I can, heading for the pot. “Sleep okay?”
“Fine,” she says, quiet, eyes down.
The air’s thick. Blue circles at my feet like she feels it too.
“About last night,” I start, pouring coffee, back still turned. “Think we ought to talk.”
Silence stretches. I turn, and her hands are white-knuckled on the mug, eyes locked on the table.
“Yes,” she says, voice tight.
I take a breath. “The kiss. The tension.” My throat’s dry. “I don’t want it makin’ things awkward.”
Her eyes flash with something I can’t place. “It’s fine, Sam. Really.”
“I just…” I lean against the counter, and set my mug down.”
It feels like swallowing glass, but I say it anyway. For her. For me. “Sorry if I made it weird,” I add. “Last thing I want is you feelin’ uncomfortable in your own home, especially with what you’re going through. So what I’m sayin’ is, I’m here for you as a friend.”
Something shifts in her face. Her eyes flicker as her mouth tightens.
“A friend,” she repeats, flat.
I nod. “Yeah. With everything you’re dealing with, it’s better not to complicate things.”
“Right.” She sets her mug down careful. “That makes sense.”
She looks almost disappointed. Or maybe I’m just seein’ what I want to see. She came here for safety, not romance. Still bleeding from Ortega’s betrayal.
I rinse my mug and drop it in the sink. “I’m gonna head out, get some work done.”
She nods. “Good luck.”
Walking out, I can’t shake the question: did I do the right thing?
Chapter Nineteen
Quinn
"He friend zoned me," I say as soon as Kate opens her front door. It's barely 8 AM, and she's still wearing her pyjamas.
"Whaat?" She squints at me through sleep-heavy eyes, then steps back to let me in. "Quinn? What are you doing here? And what?"
I push past her into the familiar living room. "Sam. He just gave me the 'I want to be here for you as a friend' speech this morning."
Kate closes the door and follows me to her couch where I collapse dramatically. She takes a long sip from her mug, studying me over the rim.
"Slow down. Start from the beginning." Kate tucks her legs under her as she sits back. "What happened?"
