Playing for Real - Book 2

Chapter 14

Cash 

Any doubts I have about Quinn not wanting to be here, that maybe she's just going through the motions to please me, are put to rest by the following day. We made love a second, third, and fourth time last night before she collapsed on me, grinning, then curled up at my side and fell asleep in my arms.

I look down at her now in the late-morning sun, all sleep-warm and cheek pressed into the pillow, her curly hair a tangled mess around her head. My eyes move over her body, along the side of her bare breast and down the curve of her spine, to where the sheet rests just at her hips. She's my everything, with only the soft, measured sound of her breathing right next to me. I imagine if I wasn't such a fuck up, this would be my morning every morning, and I'd be the luckiest man in the world.

Except the problem is, I am a fuck-up. And without her, I'm a wreck. I've been watching her sleep peacefully for the past thirty minutes, etching every sacred inch of her into my memory because I'm scared this will be the last time I'll be with her like this.

She slept by my side all night like her body depended on my warmth to survive. Her leg is still slung easily over my hip, and practically every inch of her bare skin touches practically every inch of mine. And when she shifts in her sleep, she tightens her grip on the sheet at my waist. It's almost enough to distract me from the fear of her leaving me again, to tempt me into waking her up and wearing her out one last time.

Having her in my bed like this makes every mistake, every drink, and every woman I've ever been with disappear into a dark, dormant part of my brain. Quinn has this incredible way of making my heart feel whole again. I do not know how I ever lived without her, but I know I'm not good enough for her. She doesn't deserve my baggage, and it's more than unfair of me to weigh her down. I need to sever Daniela from my life for good. Which is why I had my lawyer serve her with divorce papers the day Quinn decided to come with me to Santa Anna.

It's a quarter after eight now, and I trail my finger down her arm, not wanting to wake her, certainly not wanting her to leave.

A fist pounding heavily on the door causes Quinn to stir but not wake. I sit up, panicked. Tossing the sheets off my body, I leave Quinn's side, put on underwear, and slide on a t-shirt. I stumble out into the living room and pull open the front door.

"Is this some sort of sick joke?" Daniela stands on the other side of the door, a frown on her lips and fire in her eyes. She holds out a stack of papers, waving them in my face.

Shit. Fuck.

I step out into the hallway and close the door behind me. The last thing I want is for Quinn to wake up to this.

"What are you doing here?" I ask through gritted teeth. "Aren't you supposed to be halfway across the country?"

"The second your lawyer served me, I booked the next flight to Santa Anna to tell you to go fuck yourself," she hisses.

She tosses the divorce papers in my direction. They smack against my chest and drop to the floor, scattering at my feet. I ran a hand through my hair, reminding myself that reaching out and strangling her would not help the situation.

"Go. Fuck. Yourself," she shouts.

I look at her and wonder if she's about to lose her sanity because I'm pretty sure I'm close to losing mine, too. The sight of her lip trembling, eyes wet with unshed tears, and body quivering makes me feel like I might throw up. The hurt in Daniela's voice tugs at me. I never wanted to hurt her. For the past four and a half years, I've done everything in my power not to have her hurt anymore. But I also need to accept her happiness is not my responsibility, especially if it hurts Quinn.