“Quinn?”
She patted Ingrid’s hand. “I’m hanging in there. Everything’s going to be okay.” Okay, okay, okay. She’d only told herself that a hundred times since the day began.
“I heard you were a real superstar today.”
She shook her head as she sipped her tea and tried not to think about the kiss. “It wasn’t me, really. It was mostly Khristos.”
“But I heard it was a total save. Like, you saved someone’s life, Quinn! That’s incredible, and awesome, and you should be proud. Give yourself some credit. So, this must also mean you’re less butthurt about Igor? Maybe some of those old feelings about everlasting love are coming back?”
After the eye-opening conversation she’d had with Khristos, where she’d had her poor choices laid out in front of her and really examined—um, mostly no. “You know what I’ve decided after tonight? I’ve decided that eternal love is for some people, and it’s beautiful. God, it was so beautiful, Ingrid. But I learned something about myself this fine evening as well. Something valuable.” And while she hated to admit it, Khristos’s words had clicked.
Ingrid grabbed a cookie from the plate Archibald silently set on the table and took a healthy bite. “Tell me,” she ordered as she munched.
“I discovered that it isn’t that the men I pick suck ass, per se. I suck ass at the picking. I’ve invested a lot of time in putting on my blinders. On overlooking some of the things I knew were clear signs that Igor and I weren’t a good match, but ignored anyway because I was sure, in the big scheme of things, he was my Mr. Darcy. That I could turn him into my Mr. Darcy.”
“Signs like…?”
Quinn sighed and leaned deeper into her hand. “Like when Igor told me he loved me. Sure, he said it, but I never felt secure in it. Not even a little. Despite what I portrayed outwardly. That’s because I wanted it to be true in my head, but I guess I knew it wasn’t in my heart. I just couldn’t admit it. Apparently, I have a gift for picking men who’ll be whatever I want them to be just to keep from being alone, and then they realize what I want isn’t what they want and they skip off to someone with big guns and abs I could bounce a quarter off of.”
“Wow. That’s deep, my friend. But you seem like you’ve come to terms with it. Though, I still say, it doesn’t mean it can’t happen to you.”
Quinn shrugged, wincing when she tried to stretch out her arm. “But maybe it’s just not for everyone. I mean, this Aphrodite thing is about repopulating the world, right? But some people choose not to procreate for whatever reasons. If everyone procreated we’d have far bigger problems than we already do, don’t you think? I’ve made my peace with the idea I just wasn’t meant to be part of that particular bigger picture.”
Ingrid rolled her tongue along the inside of her cheek, her patience clearly waning. “Look, Igor is the shit on your shoe. He didn’t even have the decency to break up with you properly, Quinn. You’re a nice lady. He’s a dicknuckle of a man. It shouldn’t sour you forever.” She waved her hands in a dismissive motion. “That’s beside the point. The point is, despite our complete lack of almost anything in common other than English Lit, and considering our age difference, I still know that a bad breakup takes time to get over. I’m not so young that I don’t get—”
“Why are you always harping on the fact that I’m almost old enough to be your mother?” Quinn planted an indignant hand on her hip with a grin. “I’m so tired of hearing about your youth, I could cry. I’m thirty-five, not three thousand-five. Yes, I decided to continue my education a little later in life. So. What?” Quinn waved her finger under Ingrid’s nose to make her point.
Ingrid gave her a look of outrage, her heavily made-up eyes wide. “I’m not making fun of you. I’m stating a fact. It was me, wasn’t it, who clunked Thor Benson in the head for making fun of your age?”
That was true. Ingrid had. Right after their fellow classmate Thor, who shouldn’t have been given vocal chords, let alone a high school diploma, had called her a wannabe MILF.
Okay. Unfair call. She was picking fights in her touchiness after the diner revelations. “Yes. It was a nice shot, too. Perfectly executed.”
“He deserved it. He doesn’t even know how to spell MILF, let alone identify one. He said to tell you hello, too.”
She’d forgotten all about her class. “What did you tell everyone?”
“That you had a boob job and you’re recuperating.”
Quinn snorted. “You didn’t.”
“Nah, I didn’t. I just told them you had to cut your trip short because you were the new Aphrodite, Goddess of Lurve, and your plate suddenly became full and especially sparkly.”