Just Say Yes (20 page)

“And now he's a cook with a drug problem.”

Quinn couldn't help the retreating step she took. It was as if her father had physically pushed her. She didn't even know this callous man in front of her. She took a calming breath before speaking, hoping that her words might bring back the man she knew. “First of all, he's an executive chef at an up-and-coming restaurant. He's not manning the fryer at Arby's. Second, he doesn't
have
a drug problem. Yes, he struggled with addiction, but he's been clean for more than seven years.”

“Quinn—”

Quinn reached across the countertop, taking her father's hand in hers. “Dad, please. I know you love me, and I know your sole purpose is to protect me. And I love you for that. But I'm an adult who's capable of protecting myself and deciding who deserves a place in my life and who doesn't.”

The corners of her father's mouth turned up just enough to let Quinn know he understood what she was saying and agreed with her.

“I also know that whatever you said to him, however you made him feel, that your intention wasn't to hurt anyone. But you did. You hurt him. And you hurt me too. He broke up with me after we came here.” Quinn's eyes moved between her parents. “I love him. He was good for me. Made me feel special. I'm sorry that you didn't see how great he was. That you didn't give him more of a chance. We all lost out because of that.”

“Sweetheart, your father told me about his conversation in the garage with Tim after you two left that night. And while you can trust that your father wasn't exactly warm and inviting,” her mom said as she cut a glance at Quinn's father, who had the good sense to look sheepish, “I think there was some overreaction on Tim's part. What your dad said, it shouldn't have been enough to run a man away who really wanted to stay.”

Quinn let out a sigh as she let go of her dad's hand. “I don't doubt that. But there are things neither of you could possibly understand. Things even
I
can't even understand. What I
do
know is that Tim's been told he wasn't good enough for most of his life. And having it confirmed by his girlfriend's father was the last thing he needed.”

“But you never told us. How was your father supposed to know?”

“I didn't expect him to know. I just expected him to trust my judgment.” Quinn pushed in the chair quietly. “I think I need a little time to process all this. I'll call you guys later.” And she would. Quinn knew she couldn't fully blame her parents for what happened. Tim was the one who'd left. In a way, her mom was right—if he'd wanted her, he would've fought for her. Even if the one he had to fight was himself. In that moment, the realization that he couldn't do that told her all she needed to know. Tim was gone—and maybe she needed it to stay that way.

•   •   •

Even with Roger's words echoing in Tim's head, it still took him a couple days to get himself together enough to take the next step. He had something else he still needed to read. As he withdrew it from the drawer, he felt nerves prickle along his spine. Banishing all other thoughts from his mind, he opened the envelope and began to read its contents.

Will the Real Quinn Sawyer Please Stand Up:

The Story of a Woman's Journey to Find Herself

I've never been a rebel or an adventurer. I've never explored the unknown or pushed boundaries. I've never been fought for; nor have I ever fought for anything. Not really, not truly. And until this past May, I never thought I would. But then an idea happened, an article happened, he happened. Now I'll never be the same.

In May I volunteered to write an article that would take me on a journey, though I didn't realize how profound it would be at the time. Initially it was merely an excuse to let my hair down, release my inner badass, and have a little fun. But it became so much more. I constructed a list of tasks—things my respectful, timid, good-girl personality would never have let me experience before. I quickly found that these excuses to be “bad” were ultimately leading me on a quest to uncover the real me, the me who had lurked beneath the polished veneer I projected to the world. I enlisted the help of a friend who, now that I truly reflect on it, was always more than that, and we began tackling my list. Together.

First up, lying to my boss to get out of work (sorry, Rita; please don't fire me) so that I could go to a local convenience store and steal a pack of gum. What I learned: while I was a successful thief, I'm still pretty bad at it. I ended up returning to the store and paying for the gum.

Next, I got up in front of a roomful of strangers and sang karaoke. What I learned: I can't sing. At all. I also have horrible stage fright and am rendered nearly mute when confronted with uncomfortable situations. Until someone reminded me that I'm not all alone. Until someone, my more-than-a-friend someone, made an ass out of himself by singing a song he knew none of the words to just so I could know that I wasn't alone anymore. And since we're being honest here, I may as well admit that I fell a little bit in love with him that night even though I ignored it at the time.

After that came a nose piercing, which was really a failed mission because I was supposed to get a tattoo. What I learned: only guys who love you back will get a tongue piercing in order to make you less nervous to drill a hole in your body. I wish I'd understood that sooner.

The following task on my list was by far the dumbest, yet it was the most worthwhile. While I don't recommend hitchhiking as a means to finding yourself, it certainly speeds up the process. What I learned: trusting someone enough to keep you from being murdered by a drunk clown wielding a box of condoms is the highest compliment you can pay someone.

Asking a stranger on a date is something I never would have done before my “rebel” mentor made me. What I learned: you shouldn't go looking for things when everything you ever wanted is sitting across from you.

Lastly, I posed nude with the one person I wanted to see naked more than any other. What I learned: I have impressive self-control.

So what did all of this mean for me? Did it change me? Am I a whole new Quinn after undertaking my list of boundary-pushing endeavors? Have I been redefined by these experiences?

No.

It wasn't the experiences that changed me. It wasn't the quest beyond my comfort zone that made me a better person. It was him. He made me look at the world differently. He made me realize that people aren't always what they appear to be. He taught me that the best things in life are only the best because you share them with someone else.

And then he left. But he didn't take the girl he helped create with him. She'll always be here, she'll always be grateful, and she'll always be whole. Because he helped build her that way. Together we built a woman who is not a rebel but does not shirk from adventure, a woman who not only explores but discovers, who not only pushes boundaries but breaks them down. A woman who fought and will never give up until she finds someone willing to fight for her in return.

I may not be new, but I am forever improved. Have finally outgrown my Sherpa. And it's a good feeling to know that, even alone, I'm okay. More than okay. I am the real Quinn Sawyer, and I'm finally ready to stand up.

Tim hadn't known he could be rocked by words on paper before the last few days. Quinn had accomplished exactly what she'd set out to. He was so proud of her he felt he would burst. But there was also a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Quinn—just like he always knew—was fine without him. Her strength was intrinsic. A fundamental part of who she was.

That wasn't the case for Tim. At least not anymore. He
needed
Quinn. For the first time, he could fully admit that he couldn't live without another person. It was both freeing and terrifying.

Retraction

Tim had been staring at her door for at least five minutes. He thought he'd come up with something to say on the drive over, but he'd been wrong. His brain was a muddled mess of Quinn. The desperation he felt was preventing him from putting logical thoughts together. All he could envision was the gamut of her facial expressions over the past months: happiness, curiosity, surprise, nervousness, mischief, and sadness. The last gutted him every time he imagined it.

I'm such an asshole.
But he'd still like to be
Quinn's
asshole if there was any way she'd be able to get on board with that idea. And he needed her to get on board. He needed her in every way. Which was why his speech had to be perfect.

Putting his hands on the doorjamb, he bent over slightly at the waist, let his head hang toward the floor, and took some calming breaths.
Come on, Tim. Get it together. You're too old to act like such a pansy.
He'd finally gotten his breathing under control when the door unexpectedly opened. As he lifted his head to see a startled Quinn standing with her purse draped over her shoulder, his brain completely short-circuited.

“I love you.”
Fuck. Way to jump into the deep end without a life jacket, dickhead.
That was
not
the way Tim had wanted to start out. Not because it wasn't true or because he had anything better to say, but because he had a lot of explaining to do. His actions over the past weeks hadn't exactly been demonstrative of his love for Quinn, and she deserved to hear why before he threw around words his actions hadn't proven.

Other than a slight widening of her eyes, her face was impassive. Clearly she was as unimpressed with his tact as he was.

“Shit. Wait. I didn't mean . . . I mean, I did mean, but . . . Fuuuuck, I'm so bad at this.”

He saw Quinn take a deep breath and cross her arms over her chest. This was not going well.

Pushing off the doorjamb with his hands, he straightened and looked into Quinn's beautiful blue eyes. “I'm an idiot.”

She didn't contradict him.

“Three months ago, you asked me to help you change your life.”

“I didn't ask. You offered.”

He felt his lip twitch at her correction. She had spoken to him.
That's a good sign, right?
“You're right. I did offer. And it was the best offer I've ever made. See, you thought you needed me. You thought that you weren't strong enough to accomplish the change on your own. And since it's what you wrote in your article—which was amazing by the way—you evidently thought that I would be strong enough for you to lean on, to get you through the transformation. But I wasn't. I let you down when it mattered most, and I'm sorry for that.”

Quinn released an annoyed sigh. She clearly didn't want to hear apologies. He was fucking this up.

“I'm not putting myself down again. I promise. I just . . . I need you to understand a few things.”
Here goes nothing. Or everything.
“Did you know that Scott didn't want to take over my dad's practice?”

Quinn's furrowed brow told him she didn't.

“He wanted to be a surgeon. Neurosurgeon actually.” He hesitated, giving himself a second to rein in his emotions. “I cost him that.”

Quinn dropped her hands but didn't speak.

“The accident I caused, when Scott was injured, he suffered more than a broken bone. There was damage to the nerves in his arm. His dream of operating on people was over before he ever got a chance to pursue it. I cost him everything because getting high was more important than taking care of a person I love. And that has been the heaviest guilt I've had to carry. Until the things I said to you.”

Quinn's entire body softened. It was like watching a lightbulb go on, like some of the things she hadn't quite been able to place finally started to click together.

Tim let himself hope for the first time in weeks. Maybe, just maybe, he hadn't lost her after all. “I didn't mean those things, but I said them anyway, for a variety of reasons that don't even make any sense. You could never make me feel unbalanced or like using, Quinn. You're the best reason to stay clean I've ever had.” He let the quiet admission wash over them both, letting their truth seep into them. “I've had nothing but time to think about the hows and whys, and I realized I can't keep blaming myself for things that can't be undone. Accept the things you cannot change and all that,” he added with a smirk. “I want to focus on the things I
can
change. The things I can make right. And this,” he said as he gestured between them with his hand, “hopefully this is one of those things.”

Her face gave nothing away, and Tim was almost thankful for that. He was going to have to work for her forgiveness. He didn't want it any other way.

“I've carried my past like a fucking scarlet letter. But the truth is, I've known for a long time that I'm not that guy anymore. Tim the drug addict is gone. He died in that crash seven years ago. And while addiction is something that will always be part of me, it isn't
who
I am. I don't need to keep holding myself accountable for debts I've never been asked to repay. Scott doesn't blame me; only
I
blame me. And I'm finally ready to let that shit go. Because if I don't, it'll fucking drown me. I don't want to drown, Quinn.”

A tear slid down her cheek before she lifted her hand to wipe it away. The only sound that came out of her was a subtle sniff.

“I meant what I said. I love you. So much. My life, it means something when you're in it. It's like all the bullshit was worth it because it led me here. To you. And while I'll probably never feel good enough for you, never feel like I quite deserve you, I still want the chance to try. Because you and me, we could be something extraordinary. And I'm not willing to walk away from that. Not anymore.”

They stared at each other as if the remaining answers wouldn't be found in words, but rather in the depths of the eyes looking back at them. When Quinn looked away first, Tim wasn't sure if it was because she had found answers she didn't like, or if she hadn't found any answers at all.

Either way, he wasn't having it.

“Look at me. Please.”

Quinn closed her eyes tightly before lifting her head. She opened them slowly, expectantly.

That's when he knew. He still had a chance. He just had to take it, even if it completely stole Scott's thunder. “Marry me.”

Her head jerked back as if she'd been jolted by a zap of electricity. “Marry you? Are you . . . ? Have you lost your mind?”

“Marry me, Quinn. I know this seems crazy, and abrupt, and all kinds of fucked up, but I know what I want. This is the most logical decision I've ever made. You see me as the man I've always wanted to be. And you make me believe that I can actually
be
him. Because for you, I'd be anything.”

“I've only ever wanted you to be yourself.”

“I know. But I never really knew who that was until I met you.” Tim hadn't come here intending to propose, but goddamn did he want her to answer. It wasn't ideal, but he wanted it to be as right as it could be. So he dropped to one knee and looked up at her with every ounce of love he had. “When I was reading your article, all I could think was that you had it backward.” Quinn's mouth parted a bit as if to speak, but Tim continued before she had the chance. “It wasn't
you
who had to find yourself, make yourself a more complete version of who you really are inside. It was me. I know I've come here completely unprepared, and you deserve a perfect moment, but as we both know, I'm not perfect. Not by a long shot. So I hope you'll remember this not as the time when I totally botched one of the most important events of your life, but when I finally got it right. Because this is the most honest I've ever been. You wanted me to be myself. Here I am. Down on one knee—though very noticeably without a ring—hoping like hell you like what you see.” His eyes blazed into hers. “When we started this experiment, I told you to say yes. So do it again, Quinn. Just say yes.”

Quinn's jaw jutted out as her eyes filled with tears. She tried to blink them away, but a few errant ones fell anyway. “For the record, I always liked what I saw. It's what
you
saw that was the problem.”

“Yeah, I'm kind of a dick that way.”

She laughed, just as he'd hoped she would. Looking down at him, she grew serious. “I can't give you an answer right now. There's somewhere I have to be.”

Tim couldn't help the way his stomach dropped, though he tried to school his features. He slowly rose to his feet. “Sorry. I guess my timing wasn't too great. I didn't mean to keep you from anything. I'll go, and then maybe you can call, if you want, and we can talk more. Or—”

“Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“Be quiet, okay?”

Tim exhaled deeply. “Okay.”

Quinn stepped out of her apartment, forcing Tim to move back. She locked the door and then turned away from him and started down the hall.

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

Quinn stopped, but she didn't turn around.

Tim took it as a yes. “I just . . . I know I don't deserve to know, but I need to ask anyway. Do you still love me, Quinn?”

She was silent so long, he almost didn't think she'd answer him at all. But finally words came. “I don't think I can answer that right now either, Tim.”

Yes, the words came, but he suddenly wished they hadn't And as he watched her walk away, all he could think about was how that had not gone
at all
how he'd thought it would. Not that he'd convinced himself she'd take him back, but he hadn't expected her to leave him standing in the hallway either. Though after he'd completely overplayed his hand and practically begged her to love him, he probably shouldn't have been surprised that she'd run away from him.
Pathetic.
But he wasn't going to give up. No, it was time for plan B, which he would think up as soon as he was able to pick his heart up off the floor.