Fighting Solitude (On The Ropes #3)

I was still drunk from his kiss when he said, “That was when I got an idea. I decided to buy a bus ticket to come see you.” He tucked a stray hair behind my ear and squeezed me with the hand I was clinging to. “I marched into that office, slammed my wallet down on the counter, and demanded a ticket to Chicago.”

I blinked up at him expectantly. I knew how this story ended. I’d lived it. He’d never made it to Chicago, but my heart raced with anticipation as if, this time, the story could somehow be different. As if Quarry could magically travel back in time, show up at my door when I was fifteen, and sweep me off my feet exactly the way I’d dreamed of at least a million times.

We could have still been sitting right there years later.

But this time.

It wouldn’t be wrong.

It wouldn’t be weird.

There wouldn’t be guilt.

There wouldn’t be pain.

But, if that were the case, there also wouldn’t have been Mia.

That was the kind of friend I was. I had gotten so lost in a fantasy where I got the boy that I’d just written her out of my life altogether.

My heart sank all over again.

Quarry must have felt my body tense, because he released my hand and scooped me into his lap, cradling me like a lost and confused little girl.

Maybe he could travel back in time after all.

“The next bus wasn’t until the following afternoon, and I was five dollars short,” he told the top of my head. “It was just a silly idea. I wasn’t even sure what I would have done when I got there, but it crushed me when I couldn’t make it happen. I hadn’t seen you in three years, but every second after I walked out of that bus station felt like an eternity, and each one broke me a little more. And I’ll be honest, Liv. There wasn’t a whole lot left of me to break at that point. I’d been trudging along for the sake of everyone around me for years, but it was all a lie. And, in that moment, completely alone at a bus station with memories haunting me with every step, I gave up the fight and called Till. I sobbed like a little bitch when he showed up to get me. Sitting in the cab of this truck, I lost my ever-loving mind, pouring out my heart and soul like I was on death row.”

I curled into his chest, offering him comfort when, in reality, I was taking it for myself. The idea of Quarry breaking broke me too.

He continued. “I think Till got his first real glance of how bad off I was. I started counseling the next day. A month later Till moved me to a private school for the hearing impaired. My first day there, I met Mia. And, nine months later, you came back to me. My life went from completely empty to overflowing in a matter of months. I didn’t even know how to handle it. But I was determined to hold on to it.”

I buried my face in his neck and cursed the gods of bus schedules and five-dollar bills.

And, while I was at it, I threw in closets, silence, and brain tumors too.

His voice became raspy and low. “We aren’t wrong.”

I looked up at him. “Huh?”

“Last night, you said we were wrong. That’s bullshit and you know it.”

I sighed. “She was my best friend. You are my best friend. There are some lines you just shouldn’t cross.”

He groaned and shook his head. “I seriously don’t get you. What do you want me to do? Spend the rest of my life alone because Mia died?”

“Of course not! She never would have wanted that.”

A loud laugh escaped his throat. “But, somehow, we’re wrong?”

I clamped my mouth shut.

“Right,” he scoffed, moving me off his lap. He stood off the tailgate and intertwined his fingers, resting them the top of his head. “This is ridiculous, Liv. Why is this about her? She has not one damn thing to do with our relationship.”

My head snapped back. Was he insane? She had everything to do with our relationship.

“She was your girlfriend!” I snapped.

“And I loved her! Don’t punish me for that!”

“I’m not punishing you for anything. I’m simply stating the facts to explain why this is absolutely wrong.” I bit my lip, instantly regretting my choice of words.

A stifling rage began radiating off his strong shoulders. He was beyond pissed. His hands clenched at his sides as he paced back and forth from hood to bumper.

Knowing exactly what would follow, I jumped to my feet when he stilled. Then I rushed in front of him and protectively leaned against Till’s beater truck as it if were the crown jewels Quarry was about to destroy with his fist.

“Don’t you dare!” I seethed. “You break your hand again, Davenport wins. Calm the fuck down.”

His jaw ticked as he held my glare. His chest was puffed, filled with breath, but he wasn’t breathing. Thankfully, that was a good sign. It meant he was reigning himself in. With the exhale, his temper would fade—or so I thought.

“We are not wrong!” he roared.

I startled at the sudden outburst, but his body closed in on me, flattening me against the side of the truck. He bent down and took my mouth in a punishing kiss. As always, my arms instantly folded around him. His hand dropped to my thigh and lifted it to his hip, leaving me balanced on one heel.

“Tell me this feels wrong,” he ordered, fisting a hand into the back of my hair then slamming his mouth back over mine.

My lips ached under the force of his, but my tongue greedily swirled in his mouth.

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