Mia was retreating, and someone else was taking her place. She was going about the motions of her day, but I wasn’t entirely sure if the lights were on upstairs. There was something robotic about the way she spoke of late, and her smiles were empty, almost as empty as her eyes.
I was worried. I loved Mia. She was my world. Seeing her like this scared the shit out of me. I needed to try to fix this, or risk losing her.
Something told me that if Harry went on rejecting our relationship, Mia and I wouldn’t survive as a couple, and part of me hated Harry for that, because I wasn’t sure if he’d get over whatever the fuck it was he had against us. Not only that, but I was sure I wouldn’t recover if I lost Mia.
He was right. I wasn’t good enough for her, but I would do everything I had to in order to make things work. Failure of our relationship was not an option. Especially not before it had even really begun.
For a solid week, I’d watched my girlfriend escape to the bathroom at all hours and come back with red-rimmed eyes. I listened to her cry quietly at night when she was sure I was asleep. I watched as her happiness slowly faded out of her, wondering if it was gone for good.
I wasn’t about to let sadness become a permanent fixture in Mia’s life. And so I raised my hand and rang the doorbell. He answered the door and looked me up and down. I didn’t miss the three-day growth of his beard or the empty beer bottles on the counter. It seemed Harry was as miserable as we were.
Neither of us spoke, we watched each other carefully, anticipating what the other would do. A moment passed, and Harry surprised me by stepping away from the door, making room for me to enter.
I walked in and he closed the door behind me, moving past and asking, “What do you want?”
If he didn’t feel the need for formalities, neither did I. I stood a few feet away from him and told it like it was. “You’re killing us before we’ve even been given a chance, Har.”
His eyes narrowed as his jaw steeled. He hated me; that much was clear.
I normally hated to plead. Today? Not so much. I had to do what I had to do. “Mia’s hurting, and you’re the cause. I—” I hesitated, “I don’t know what to do, but I know if I see her hurting much longer, I’m gonna go after the cause. You get me?”
“That a threat?” Harry mumbled, feigning boredom.
God, he was pissing me off. “You know it. I love her more than anything.” I paused a moment to let that sink in. “More than anything, Har.” A sadness came over me that I wasn’t prepared for. It came out when I spoke. “I don’t care that you hit me. I don’t care that you said shit to me I didn’t deserve, but…but I can’t let you hurt her.”
“And if I told you the only way I’d get over this is if you agreed not to date her?” he asked acidly.
My haunches rose as I responded a curt, “I’d tell you you’re a selfish asshole and to go fuck yourself.” Harry turned to glare at me. I wasn’t having any of that right then. “We’re in love.” I needed him to understand. “I’m going to marry her.” His anger fell away, and all that was left was a look of resentment. “I had you as a brother for coming on six years, and I’ve never thought any different, no matter how shitty you’ve been to me.” Resentment faded away, and then he just looked tired and empty. “I’d love for you to be a part of our lives, but could get on just fine if you decided you didn’t want that.” I paused before I laid it on him. “But Mia couldn’t, man. She needs you. She loves you more than anything. The entire time we were seeing each other, she told me you were her hero. Her champion. The only person who believed in her. The only one who supported her 100 percent.” I added quietly, “You’re making a liar out of her, Har.”
I didn’t wait for him to respond. I turned and walked out of his apartment without looking back, hoping he’d take the bait I’d set.
Chapter Forty-Five
Mia
I’d gone about my day as I would’ve a month ago. I went to work, did my job, came home, cooked, ate, and then showered and changed into my pajamas. Only, I didn’t feel any of it.
It had been close to three week since my brother said a word to me. I’d seen him twice at Mom’s, and no matter how hard she tried to engage us into conversation, it just wasn’t happening. My brother greeted me as if I was a stranger, with a curt, “Hello,” and all I could do was respond a quiet, “Hi.” We ate across from each other, avoiding eye contact, answering our mother in short sentences that did not require response.
Quinn was my only lifeline. Although we didn’t see each other every night, we tried to be together at least five nights a week. What scared me was how reliant on him I was becoming.
I wasn’t that girl, that needy girl, who needed a man to stroke her hair and tell her how pretty she was. That wasn’t me. But Quinn was giving me something new and unfamiliar, something I craved—undivided attention.
Regardless of how my brother had treated him, he never spoke badly of Harry. In fact, it was the exact opposite. He told me stories about how Harry had saved his ass, about the time Harry took him in when he’d been sleeping in his car for a week, and how Harry had been closer to him than his own blood relatives.
Only, Harry was my blood relative, and I hated the divide my relationship was causing in my family. I loved Quinn, but Harry was my brother. I didn’t have a father, but I never missed having one, because Harry became everything I needed in a male role model. I loved him in a way that was unique and irreplaceable, and I was utterly lost without him. He was my best friend, my comrade, and his absence left a gaping hole in my heart.
I was hurting.
The beeping of the oven timer brought me back to the present and I suddenly realized I’d been standing in the kitchen for minutes without blinking. I took in a quick breath and walked forward to switch off the roast. Quinn would be here soon. I wanted to cook something nice for dinner. He deserved nice dinners with a knockout girlfriend.
At least I could provide one of the two.
Quinn had been hitting the gym every night since he’d been accepted in the Police Academy training program. He was in great physical condition as it was; I didn’t see the need for him to push himself, but he was convinced he needed to do more. He was so committed to doing something normal, something honorable. It was nice to see him put his all into something he was passionate about.
I smiled at the thought, and a faint ache pulsed in my chest.
I loved him so much…so very much.
The apartment door opened and I removed the roast from the oven. A long sigh sounded from behind me, and then strong arms wrapped themselves around me, pulling me into a hot, hard body.
“Would you look at you, being all domestic and shit?” He sounded faintly amused. Then he bit my ear gently and growled, “Oh, baby, you are so getting laid tonight.”
I swatted at him with my oven mitt and tried to pull away, feigning disgust. “Ugh. Get off. You’re all sweaty.”
His rough chuckle sounded in my ear. “Oh, hush now. You like me all sweaty. In fact, if I remember correctly, you liked it so much that you licked me all the way down to my c—”
Turning, I slapped my hands over his mouth, eyes wide, and hissed, “Oh, my God, stop!”
From behind my hands, his eyes smiled as he mumbled, “Dirty girl.” Then he frowned and mumbled some more. “Hey, what gives? I’ve been here a full minute and you still haven’t kissed me.” He paused a moment before adding, “Gimme dem lips, woman.”
What had I done so well in my life that I’d been granted the gift of this man?
My hands slid down to his shoulders, I smiled lightly up at him, stood on my tiptoes, and gently pressed my lips to his. He groaned immediately, his hands coming down to cup the cheeks of my ass, pulling me as far into his body as he could manage. He squeezed, and the slight pain made my core pulse in anticipation.