“We should do that more often,” Baz says. “But can we go to a place with girls next time?” There’s a collective eye roll as we figure who’s taking the drunkies home so they can sleep it off.

“Going to a bar never used to be this much work,” Hardy says. “But I’m glad we did. Even if that asshole did try to start something. Maybe next time I’ll lay whoever it is out and give everyone a good show.” His eyes sparkle a little and I think maybe the next time we should go somewhere that doesn’t have as many drunk guys looking to start a fight. The last thing we need is for one of the boys to get arrested.

Everyone says goodnight and I have the delightful job of getting Cash home and in bed. He’s done it for me enough times, so I might as well return the favor.

He’s mumbling as I shove him up the stairs of his place and toward this bedroom. I shove some aspirin down his throat and some more water. I make sure to leave some extra with him, get him undressed, in bed and tilt his head to the side.

“Good night, big guy.” I’m about to turn and leave when a sound stops me. Cash is quietly sobbing.

Not sure what to do, I turn around and look down at him. I’ve never seen Cash cry. I’ve never seen any of the guys cry. Not that we don’t, I just think by virtue of what we do that we bottle it up and save it for when we’re alone.

“They’re all dead,” he moans, grabbing his face. “They’re all dead.”

His parents. He was the one who found them and I think that’s one of the reasons we share so much. We both know what it’s like to walk in on a murdered parent. Cash had it harder, though. I always wonder how he’s able to stay so upbeat.

“It’s okay, Cash. It’s okay. It’s over,” I say, patting his shoulder. He looks up at me with so much pain in his eyes that I want to look away.

“It’s not over, it’s not over,” he says again and again. I have nothing I can say to him that’s going to convince him, so I sit on the bed next to him and wait for him to go to sleep. Eventually he tires himself out and his eyes close and then he starts softly snoring. He won’t remember this, but I will.

Cash was much younger than I when his parents died. I can’t imagine what that’s like to be in your formative years and have something like that break you. I make my way back to my place and decide to hop the fence and hang out in one of the parks for a while.

I think about my mother. About Lizzy. About Cash. I think about all the lives ruined by circumstances out of their control.

I think about going over to Saige’s place again, but I don’t. It is extremely late and I don’t think she’ll indulge me twice in one week. I don’t need her knocking my defenses down and making me tell her things I shouldn’t be telling her.

But.

I need her.

I go back to my place and change my clothes and pack an extra set. I know I smell like dirt and smoke and alcohol, but I don’t care. It’s an easy thing to get into her apartment building and then into her place. I walk into her bedroom and she’s lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.

“I had a feeling you were going to come,” she says, not at all surprised to see me.

“How did you know?” My voice is rough as I strip and climb into bed with her.

“Intuition,” she says, holding her arms open for me.

Twenty-Six

The next morning, Saige doesn’t ask me why I needed to stay with her. She just lets me fuck her slowly and then takes a shower with me again.

“You should start keeping some of your stuff here. Although I do enjoy you walking around smelling like me.” She smiles and I devour her mouth.

“Maybe I will,” I say. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I just know that I need to hold onto every moment with her that I have so I can take her with me. I’ve never felt this way about someone and I can’t deny it anymore. I don’t think it’s love, but it’s as close to that as I’ve ever gotten. I don’t know how it happened, but now I’m in the middle, it makes all the sense in the world. Saige is an impossible person not to love. She’s everything I never knew I wanted or needed.

I wish I didn’t have to leave her. I wish I could say “fuck it” and quit my job and forget about everything I’ve done. Talk about wishing you could live someone else’s life.

Saige makes me breakfast and sends me to work with a kiss and a promise that she’ll be waiting for me when I’m done.

Work is hard. I’m unfocused and I have to ask a few of my clients to repeat themselves on the phone. I text Cash on the burner on my lunch break, asking him if he’s okay. He just sends me back a picture of him giving a thumbs up. I’m not going to ask him if he remembers last night. It doesn’t seem right to bring it up.

The rest of the week I spend with Saige or at work or sleeping. And she cuts into both work and sleeping. I’m obsessed. When I’m not with her, I’m thinking about her and when I can see her again.

We don’t spend all our time naked, though. She has a life and I respect her study time. As long as I’m with her, I don’t even care what we’re doing. Even if I’m just watching her study.

She takes me to a student art exhibit and we critique the work and I find myself consumed with laughter from her sharp tongue. She doesn’t pull any punches when it comes to what she deems crappy art, but when she sees something she likes, she gets so animated and excited, and even if I don’t get it, I can feel her passion.

I let myself enjoy her, really enjoy her for the first time. I let my guard down a little and pretend that I’m Quinn and she is my girlfriend Saige.

“Are we ready to talk labels?” she asks me on Saturday night when we’re in bed. I’m exhausted and still trying to get the blood back to my brain after an intense naked session.

“You mean you want to define the relationship?” Her hand stills on my chest where it had been tracing the outline of my anchor tattoo.

“Does this have to do with going to your parents tomorrow?” I ask.

“A little. I just want to know where this is going. I’m not trying to put any pressure on you and if you’re not ready for this step, that’s okay. But I think we have something special and I’d like to take it to the next level.” I don’t know what to say.

“You think about it and get back to me,” she says, dipping her head to kiss the anchor, her hair brushing across my chest and hiding her face from view.

“Yes,” I say and she looks up at me.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I want to define the relationship.” Quinn wants to define the relationship. He gets to be her boyfriend. Not Sylas. But that’s close enough.

She beams at me.

“So you’re saying you want me to be your girlfriend, which means tomorrow when we go to my parents I’m going to introduce you as my boyfriend?” I nod and she kisses me hard while laughing.

“That was so easy,” she says. “You’re a total pushover. I didn’t even have to give you an ultimatum.”

“If I had said no, would you have?”

She shrugs one naked shoulder.

“I knew you wouldn’t, so it doesn’t matter, Quinn Brand, my boyfriend.” We kiss again and that’s enough talking for a while.

The next day I go back to my place on the pretense that the shirt and tie I want to wear aren’t at Saige’s. I’ve brought a lot of my stuff to her place and I feel bad about leaving Leo so alone. If things go well tonight, I might just bring him to come stay with me at Saige’s. I don’t think she’d mind.

The surveillance equipment is hidden here there and everywhere. I’ve got it strapped to my body and it’s a good thing it’s all small and inconspicuous.

I’ve got my plan all laid out. I’ve got contingency plans and contingency plans for contingency plans. I’ve thought of nearly every possibility. Plus, I’ve done this before.