Fallacy (Apprehensive Duet Book 1) (15 page)

“No,” he replies shaking his head at me. “I’m not making this about me. I’m trying to understand my part here. I hate seeing him do this to you and you won’t let me do anything to try to make it better for you. It’s hard for me to understand why a girl who can’t stand her father gives a shit what he thinks about me?”

“That’s not true,” I counter.

“Yes, it is. I don’t give a shit if your father likes me. I already don’t like him, and I couldn’t care less what he thinks about me,” he argues back and then points a finger at me. “It’s you that cares.”

“I don’t give a shit what he thinks,” I protest again. I just poured my heart out to him about losing something that should’ve been an accomplishment for me, and all he’s concerned about is using it as a way to get me to give more. “I can’t believe we’re arguing over this right now. I’m sorry if my wanting to spare you a terrible night is upsetting to you, but I don’t have it in me to do more battle with him today.”

Stepping away from me, Alex grabs his coat from the back of the couch and heads for the door. “If you think you’re doing me a favor, then you don’t know me at all. I love you, Quinn. I’d walk through fire for you. An evening with your father is a piece of cake no matter how terrible he is. He’s hurting you and that fucking kills me. Can’t you understand that?”

He’s out the door before I can even process any of it.

He fucking loves me?

A weird feeling that’s a cross between nausea and the feeling you get when you hit the first drop on a roller coaster fills my stomach and chest.

Love?

Am I ready for someone to love me?

I’m not built for these types of things, so I do what any woman does in times of crisis and call my best friend.

“Alex just told me he loves me!” I blurt out as soon as Ashley answers the phone.

I hear the sharp intake of breath as she gasps. “No way!”

“We were fighting over my dad, he was angry, and then told me he loved me and walked out,” I continue.

“Tell me everything,” she demands.

I recount the entire conversation and my feelings. When I finish, I hear her sigh. “Quinn…”

“What?”

“You missed the point of the gesture. He was willing to endure the verbal beating he knew he was going to get from your dad, just to be there to support
you.
” She says this all very slowly as if she’s talking to a child.

“You’re missing my point,” I stress, extremely frustrated.

“I’m not,” Ashley argues. “I understand you’re trying to spare him the unpleasant experience of meeting your father, but Alex isn’t interested in meeting your dad. You’re having a terrible day. You’re upset about what your dad did to you at work. Alex just wants to be there for you to try and make this evening more bearable for you. He loves you. He just wants to be there when you need him most. You can’t be angry about that.”

Fuck me! I hadn’t thought about it in those terms at all. I honestly thought he was mad because I didn’t want him to meet my father. Simply because Alex doesn’t deserve to have to go through that. Nothing else.

There’s still the fact he dropped the love bomb on me. “I’m not sure what I should do about the ‘I love you,’” I confess.

“I’m not Alex, so I can’t speak for him. But … I’m pretty sure he didn’t tell you he loved you for you to say it back. He was trying to explain something to you. Talk to him. If you’re not ready to say it back, then don’t. But you can’t ignore that he loves you.”

Thinking about everything she just said, I know she’s right. “Thanks, sweets. I have another call to make,” I say before ending the call.

Taking a deep breath, I call Alex. It rings and rings before his voicemail picks up, but I don’t leave a message. It’s not like I can blame him for being mad– I was pretty nasty to him when all he was doing was trying to be there for me on a bad day.

I’m sorry!
I text him. Maybe if he knows I’m calling in peace, he’ll answer.

I don’t have to wait to find out an answer because Alex is calling me.

“I’m sorry,” I say as soon as I answer.

“Me too! I didn’t mean to get so harsh with you and walk out,” he apologizes as well.

“Alex…” I start, not sure how to address the love elephant in the room.

“It’s okay, angel,” I can hear him smile through the phone. The man is so in tune with me it’s scary. “I know you aren’t ready. I hadn’t planned on telling you this soon. Not that it isn’t true. I do love you, very much. I just didn’t want to freak you out or put pressure on you to say it back. I just wanted you to understand where I’m coming from.”

“Thank you,” I tell him appreciatively. “For the words and the understanding.”

“It’s my pleasure.” I can picture his face as the words come across the phone. The sly boyish grin he probably has on. The twinkle that’s in his eyes. The joy written across his face.

“Would you please come with me to the party?” I ask as completely vulnerable as I can be. This is me putting myself out there, knowing damn well he may not want to go with me tonight. But now I can’t picture the night without him.

“I’d be honored.”

Alex

MY WORLD FEELS lighter having the words off my chest. It’s been hard holding them in. I’ve known I love her for the last six months. And I know Quinn is nowhere near saying those words. But I don’t doubt she loves me. She loves me in the only way she knows how to right now. And it’s more than enough for me. I don’t need to hear the words to see them.

Quinn’s actions speak louder than words. If she didn’t love me, she would’ve never let me in. Never let me near her when she’s vulnerable. That’s as good as an “I love you” from Quinn.

“I wasn’t kidding earlier,” Quinn reminds me as we make our way into the extravagant company party at Cipriani. I’ve heard about this place. I’ve never been here personally, but I’ve heard how lavish it is, and the rumors are true. I shouldn’t have expected anything less based on the prestige of her family’s company, but fuck, this place is nice. I’ve never given too much thought to the money Quinn comes from since I’m used to being around people who make extreme amounts of money, but this is a different kind of money. I have a feeling I’m in for a bigger asshole than I thought.

I can almost picture who Quinn’s father is in my head. His suit with a five-figure price tag. His arrogant cologne. Not a hair out a place. Surrounded by a group of people kissing his ass. A judging look on his face.

I don’t care how much wealth you have; you can’t cover the scent of shit. And this man is a shit person. He can talk down to me all he wants; it’s just to make himself feel bigger. I’m looking forward to it. At the end of the day, there’s nothing this man can say about me to make me feel bad about myself.

“Nothing he says matters, angel. Not to me,” I say again, linking my fingers through hers and giving her a reassuring squeeze.

As soon as we pass through the entrance, Quinn makes a beeline straight for one of the servers carrying a tray of champagne flutes and plucks two of them off.

“Here,” she says passing one to me. “You’re going to need this.”

After about thirty minutes, I notice Quinn is purposely moving in opposition to her father. I don’t say anything and just follow her lead. Spotting her father was easy; I was able to as soon as we got here. I’ve never met the man or seen a picture of him, but it was easy to tell who he was. He and Quinn share a lot of the same features. The piercing blue eyes. The light colored hair, although his is more silver now. The confidence he carries reminds me of the way Quinn carries herself. The difference between Quinn’s confidence and his is that hers hasn’t rotted into arrogance like his.

Quinn’s talking with some guy, Mitch, who she just introduced me to when her father finally comes over to her.

“So nice of you to finally make it, Quinn,” he says with a condescending smile.

Giving him a slide glance, she doesn’t turn her attention from Mitch when she replies, “I’ve been here almost an hour.”

Mitch must sense the tension in the air because he bolts as quickly as he can.

“Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” her father asks in an offended tone.

Her spine stiffens against the arm I have around her waist, and her breathing has picked up. Her heartbeat speeds up as the vein that runs along her throat begins to throb.

Quinn is gauging for battle.

“Dad,” she says exhaling a deep breath. “This is Alex Conway, my boyfriend.”

Holy shit!

It’s the first time she’s referred to me as “boyfriend.”

Her father’s eyes widen, and he directs his attention to me. I can see the judgment as he takes me in. “Alex, this is my father, Louis Taylor.”

I offer my hand, which he reluctantly takes, but I don’t say a word. It’s obvious he dislikes me already, but it’s okay with me because I don’t like him either.

“I wasn’t aware you had a boyfriend,” he says to Quinn in an authoritative tone, as if it was meant as a reprimand. “This must be something new?”

“No,” I respond before Quinn gets a chance to say anything. He’s angling for something, but I don’t know what. He’s not going to go at Quinn in front of me, though. “It’s been a little over a year.” I smile.

“A year, you say?” he ponders, raising an eyebrow. “What do you do, Mr. Conway?”

“I’m an athletic trainer,” I reply, not adding anything more detailed just yet.

His forehead furrows and his nose wrinkles in disgust. Just the reaction I was expecting. “As in a trainer at the gym?” The disdain wafting off of him is comical. As if being a personal trainer at a gym is something to scoff at.

Cocking my head to the side, I shake my head at him. “No, as in the NFL.”

“Interesting,” he says unimpressed. Not that I was ever hoping for it or anything. “Why just trainer? Why not go the full distance and be a doctor?”

That I was expecting.

“I don’t want to be a doctor,” I say because I don’t. I have great respect for the team docs and all the ortho surgeons, but I don’t like their jobs. I like the hands-on stuff. The doctors fix up the injury, but I help them heal and get back to their original form.

Quinn slips her hand down into mine and squeezes. We both know her dad’s going to make some comment about me being too lazy to become a doctor or not smart enough. Her dread over what may leave his mouth next is radiating off of her, so I decide to end it before he can upset her anymore today.

Isn’t She Lovely
is playing, and I can’t think of anything other than having Quinn in my arms on the dance floor. “May I have this dance?” I ask with a broad smile. “I swear, this song was written with you in mind.”

I don’t acknowledge her father as I lead her to the dance floor, and neither does she.

“I’m sorry,” she says as I pull her body into mine.

“For what, angel?”

“We both know what he was trying to do.”

I smile down at her and press a kiss to her pouty lips. “I told you–nothing he could say would change anything for me. I could’ve stayed there listening to him make an ass out of himself all night. I just didn’t want to give him the opportunity to hurt you anymore today.”

“God, how I wish I had normal parents,” she confesses, and she lays her head on my shoulder as we move to the music.

“There’s no such thing as normal, baby. But you definitely could use some decent parents, that’s for sure.” I let out a small laugh.

“Was your mom a good mom before she passed away?” she questions, lifting her head back up to look at me. “I don’t think I’ve ever asked you too much about her or your father. You’ve never mentioned him.”

“Yes, she was,” I laugh. “She was great. She worked a lot because she was a single mom, but she was very supportive and always there when I needed her.”

“What about your dad?”

“Mom met my dad at Chelsea Pier during fleet week twenty-eight years ago,” I tell her. “It was supposed to be a passing fling, so no numbers or last names exchanged. Mom couldn’t even contact him to tell him about me.”

I’m okay with all of this. It isn’t anything that can be changed. I’ve never faulted either one of them. Who knows? I could’ve been spared a father like Quinn’s.

“I’m sorry,” she offers, her eyes sad.

I shake my head in disagreement. “I’m not. I had a good life with a woman who did the very best she could for me. There’s nothing to be sorry about except you didn’t get the same experience from your parents.”

“You know what?” she asks. I shake my head. “I don’t want to talk about parents anymore, or jobs, or promotions. I just want to have a nice night with you.”

“That sounds like the perfect evening to me.”