Gamed (A Standalone Romance Novel) (Bad Boy Romance) (19 page)

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

Quinn

"
Well
, I for one am not going to tell you how to live
your life," Darla said. "But I am going to tell you to drink this
coffee. You don't look like you slept at all. Have you been crying?"

"No," I
said. "That would be stupid. I don't have anything to cry about."

"No?"
Darla asked. "So it would not have anything to do with that horrific
dinner party your father threw for you or the fact that you went to a party to
have fun and ended up seeing Owen licking his lips over some bottle-dyed
redhead?"

I almost choked on
a warm slug of coffee. "No. It has nothing to do with any of that. I just
didn't sleep well. We start a whole new lab in nursing today. Maybe I'm nervous
about that."

"Why would
you be nervous? You cranked through all your catch-up work like it was
nothing," Darla said. "And despite not studying last weekend, you
still managed to pull off one of the highest test scores in the class."

"That doesn't
mean I liked it. What's wrong with me, Darla? Why don't I know what I want to
do with my life?"

"Because your
life is not just some checklist."

"You're lucky.
You know you want to be an artist, you are an artist," I said.

Darla fluffed up
her hair. "So, why exactly am I paying all this money? Art is supposed to
be one of those things that you just go out and do. Or maybe it’s one of those
things that you have to master hundreds of techniques before you can really
achieve it. See? I'm just as screwed up as you."

"So, what do
we do?" I asked.

"Go to
class," Darla replied. She threw open the door and blew me a kiss on her
way out.

She was right. I
was ready. It did not matter if I had my entire life mapped out or if the rest
of my day was an entire blank slate. I had a class and that was what I needed
to focus on. The rest of my life could wait. Owen could wait.

Even if it looked
like he was done waiting for me.

My mind spiraled
back to the party. It had been such a thrill to flirt with Dave and meet new
people. Especially when Owen was watching me. Every time I felt his agate-blue
eyes on me, I lit up like a candle. I knew it was wrong to enjoy him watching
me and I spent way too much of the party laughing and flirting just to feel his
eyes on me again.

I had spent so
many years watching Owen and my sister together that it felt really good to be
on the opposite side. It felt so good that I had forgotten how jealous, then
hurt, then defiant, and finally vengeful I had felt being in Owen's position. Every
time I smiled at Dave, I had driven Owen a little farther away. Straight into
the arms of some willowy redhead.

The thought made
me sick.

"You're not
sick, are you?" my new lab partner, Bella, asked. "Today would be the
absolute worst day to be sick."

"No, I'm fine.
Sorry, my mind was elsewhere," I said. I joined her at the stainless steel
lab table.

"Oh, good. I'm
glad. I have to admit I was really excited when our new lab pairings came out. I
mean, I know you were gone for a while, but that just showed what an amazing
student you are. To come back and shoot to the top of the test scores like
that. That is impressive."

"To be
honest, I don't know how I did it," I said. "Besides, your name is
right up there, too."

"Yeah, but I
can't say things like 'I don't know how I did it.' You're a natural. I work
really, really hard," Bella said. "That's why I think we'll make
great lab partners."

"Alright,
class. I know some of you have been excited for this while others have been
dreading it. Today, we start our
cadavers
research
lab. You and your partner will each be assigned a cadaver and will work through
a series of assignments that explore the human body first hand," our
professor said.

His teaching
assistants wheeled sheet-covered gurneys into the lab as he spoke. Bella was
already taking notes, but a buzzing had started in my ears and I could not hear
what else the professor was saying.
 

One by one, the
pairs of nursing students were uncovering their cadavers and taking initial
observations. Ours arrived and was lifted onto the stainless steel table. Bella
grabbed the sheet and peeled it back.

I saw blonde hair,
the ashen gray forehead, and the lab exploded around me. Somewhere in the
buzzing blare of light, I heard someone screaming. It was me.

"Quinn! Quinn!
Are you alright?" Bella had me in a tight hug. I was sobbing against her
shoulder. The floor slowly stopped undulating.

I stood up,
shaking, and peeked over her shoulder. The cadaver was an old woman with white
hair. She had to be at least eighty years old.

"I'm
sorry," I said in a hoarse voice. "I don't feel well."

The professor
tried to catch me, but I ran from the room. I could not sprint down the halls
fast enough and almost fell racing down the stairs. When I made it outside, I
did not stop running. Tears streamed down my face as I ran blindly back to my
dorm room.

"Quinn? Oh my
God, Quinn, what happened?"

Owen's strong arms
came out of nowhere and caught me up in an all-encompassing hug. I clung to
him, the sobs ripping out of my chest again.

"Please,
please tell me what happened. Are you alright?" He spoke against my hair,
his body still wrapped protectively around me. "You're scaring me."

"I got
scared, that's all," I said. "We started on the cadavers today. So
gray."

He pulled me over
to a bench and cradled me in his arms. When I could finally take a deep breath,
I sat up in his lap. "I'm sorry," I said.

"Nothing to
be sorry about. Maybe this just goes on the con list for nursing as a
career," Owen said.

A laugh burst out
and surprised us both.

"Wait, what
are you doing here?" I asked.

"I'm not
stalking you. I swear," Owen said. He helped me to my feet and stood up. "I
was here to talk to one of the computer programming classes."

"Sure,"
I said. My legs felt shaky and ruined the teasing.

"And then I
decided to see if you were around. So, yes, I guess it turned into
stalking," Owen said. "I'm sorry about the other night at the
party."

"What about
it?" I asked, my heart aching.

"You thought
I was flirting with that redhead. I was really just passing the time until you
were free," he said.

"Really?"

"Whoa, hang
in there," Owen reached out to steady me. "You know, Quinn, it’s
possible that you have PTSD. Maybe you should go lay down for a while."

"No, please,
I need to get off campus," I said.

"UCLA got me
a hotel room in town," Owen said.

I headed towards
the parking lot. He caught up with me after a few steps and wrapped his arm
tightly around me. I was glad as my legs still felt wobbly. Now that the
terrifying episode had passed, the adrenaline was kicking in and I felt
electrified.

When we got inside
Owen's hotel room, he went straight to the mini-bar and cracked open a small
bottle of Scotch. "Here. This will help calm your nerves. You look a
little jumpy. Adrenaline?"

"I don't
know," I said. "What, do you think I'm a nursing student or
something?"

Owen laughed and
flopped down in the armchair. He put his feet up on the bed, leaving me the
rest of the king-sized mattress to spread out on. I used all the extra pillows
to create a nest and settled in with the little bottle of Scotch.

"No," he
said. "Maybe not a nursing student today. How about a chef?"

"I burned
macaroni and cheese in high school. Remember? You had to knock down the smoke
detector with a baseball bat."

"How about
astrophysics? You could spend your life studying black holes."

"That sounds
uplifting. Oh, wait, my math skills are not strong enough," I said.

"Yeah, you're
terrible at making change."

I whacked his feet
off the corner of the bed.

"How about
astrology, then? I bet you could write a good horoscope," he said.

"Sounds good.
Let's start with yours. With the moon in your seventh sign, beware of old
friends. Your wit and charm will get you nothing but slapped." I took a
hearty swig of the Scotch and punctuated his horoscope with a round of hacking
coughs.

Owen grabbed two
beers from the mini-bar and cracked them open. "Here, might be better with
a chaser," he said.

He sat down on the
bed next to me. I grabbed for the beer, but he did not let go. I took another
swig of the Scotch and his lips followed. The burning alcohol was nothing
compared to the fire Owen's kiss started in my belly.

I took the beers
from his hand and balanced them on the bedside table. When I turned back, his
agate-blue eyes were following me with the same intensity from the party. I
crawled back along the bed and into his lap. He sighed, long and hard, his
hands coming to rest on my hips. Then slowly, each millimeter taking a century,
we drew closer and closer until our lips brushed again. Soft feather-weight
kisses that erased the world around us. Over and over again until there was
nothing but the two of us.

"I've wanted
you for so long," I said.

"You have no
idea." Owen tangled his hands in my hair.

The soft kisses
disappeared and passion devoured us.

"Wait,"
I said. I pushed against his chest and stood up. "There's something I have
to do. I have no idea what else is going to happen with my life but there are
two things I know."

"What's the
first thing?"

"I have to
call my parents and tell them I am quitting the nursing program," I said.

"And what's
the second thing that you know?"

"That I don't
want you to move an inch."

#

I
did not want to argue. I could not let my father try to build an argument
against my decision. He was a lawyer, a very talented lawyer, and I knew the
longer I let him talk, the more sense he would start making.

"Father, I'm
sorry. I know I have the aptitude for it but not the heart. Maybe someday, but
that will be my decision. This is my decision. I'm quitting the nursing
program. I'm leaving UCLA," I said.

"Of all the
hair-brained, impulsive things to call out of the blue and say." My father
held the phone away from his mouth and shouted for my mother. "Your sister
would never have done anything like this."

"Exactly,"
I said. "I'm sorry, but I wanted you to know right away. I don't know what
I'm going to do, but I will find a job and start paying back the student
loans."

"And how do
you think that's going to happen? Have you thought
about-
"

"Did you just
hang up on your father?" Owen asked.

"Why do you
think I'm turning my phone off?"

"How do you
feel?" he asked.

Owen had not moved
an inch. He still sat on the edge of the bed, his feet planted squarely on the
ground. I stood between his legs and smiled.

"I feel like
I just woke up. Like I've been asleep and having one of those stress dreams
when all the clocks are moving too fast or your teeth are falling out. And now,
I'm awake and I know for certain that everything is just fine. I'm fine,"
I said.

"I think
you're better than fine," Owen said. He wrapped his arms around my waist
and smiled up at me. "And here I thought Sleeping Beauty needed a kiss to
break the spell."

"Maybe it was
your kiss," I said. I leaned down and tasted his lips again. "Hmm,
I'm not sure. Maybe I should try again."

Owen chuckled and
pulled me onto the bed next to him. I pushed myself into the center of the
king-sized bed and stretched out. He rolled next to me and traced his fingers
from my cheek, down my neck, and all the way down my arm. Our fingers
interlaced and he brought our hands to his lips.

"Maybe I'm
the one that's waking up," he said. "Sometimes it feels like that
when I'm with you. Like I was sleepwalking through someone else's life, except
when I was with you."

I reached up and
kissed him, a long savoring kiss, before I lay back down and smiled. "Now
how do you feel?"

Owen lowered his
head and murmured against another kiss, "I hope you feel the same way I
do."

He slipped over my
body and pressed us down into the soft duvet. His hips ground slow, stirring
friction against mine and I could not help but arch to meet him. Even my
nipples reached taut through my shirt to brush against the hard contours of his
chest. Each gentle thrust and press rubbed an exquisite pleasure from them.