Friendly Fire (Ricochet 2)

Rick watched, enthralled, as an adorable blush stained her cheeks. “Don’t be embarrassed about dropping out. Just getting as far as you did is a big deal. I went straight into the Marines, so college was never even on my radar.”

For some reason, the image of Quinn as a hacker popped into his head She was sleek and sexy, dressed all in black, hunched over a massive bank of computers. The thought made his cock get even harder.

Just when I think she can’t get sexier, she tells me something like that and I nearly burst in my pants.

“Anyway, my dad died while I was away at school and I pretty much gave up.”

Quinn opened her mouth to continue, then changed her mind, mashing her lips into a straight line. Rick wanted to push her, to make her tell him whatever was on the tip of her tongue, but he didn’t. It was obvious that she was leaving something out of her story. But he figured it wouldn’t help his case to demand answers, so there was no point in getting upset. In fact, he needed to get rid of her before he did something stupid, like kissing her senseless and getting slapped in the face or worse— causing her to have another panic attack.

“You seem to be feeling better from your uh, panic attack. Probably good enough to drive home now.” He watched her cringe again at his forced callousness.

Great, turning back into that asshole Ricochet again.

Quinn twisted towards him, those damn haunting eyes of hers filled with so many questions, probably about his bizarre hot and cold behavior. The look on her face was so heart wrenching he nearly fell to her feet and begged her to let him love her.

Christ, he really was losing it.

No. They weren’t in too deep yet. It was better to put an end to it here and now than to have a messy separation later on down the road. Quinn already proved that she didn’t want a commitment to him, and he proved in the past that he wasn’t a commitment type of guy. They both got what they wanted, one night of hot sex. So what if he thought he felt something else or if Brandon put crazy ideas in his head? It was probably just his imagination or the painkillers he had been taking that made him feel that way.

Unfortunately, Rick couldn’t even make himself believe his own bullshit. What he had felt, what he still felt was real. There was no other explanation. He was hopelessly in love with Quinn Wallace.

Fuck.

Acknowledging it made his stomach flip. Beside him, Quinn jumped to her feet, all but sprinting to the door. After his rude dismissal, she wanted to get away from him. He didn’t stand a chance in hell at getting her back after his schizophrenic behavior today.

Why do I feel like I’m about to lose everything? I’m a trained killer, a fucking badass mercenary who parachutes into enemy camps in the dark of night, and this tiny girl can bring me to my knees with a single look.

The thought of not being with Quinn was painful, like a bullet to the heart, or to his lower quadrant as it was in this case. It was too much to endure. Rick limped after her, favoring his side as he walked. “Quinn!”

God, could I possibly be anymore confusing? Wanting her one minute and shunning her the next?

Quinn yanked open the front door, stopping when he called out her name.

“What is it Rick?” She sounded tired, exhausted actually, her posture defeated.

When he reached her, Rick held on to the doorframe for support, close enough to touch Quinn. The itch to reach out was overwhelming. The memory of that soft skin sliding beneath his body was in the forefront of his mind. As much as he wanted her, Rick chickened out, shoving his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t skim his fingers down her cheek. “I—I’ll see you at work.”

Moisture glistened behind her large eyes, her long lashes damp with unshed tears. “Yeah, sure,” she whispered, right before hastily turning and walking to the street.

Rick closed the front door, leaning heavily against the thick wood.

What is Quinn not telling me?

She wasn’t ready for this, for a relationship with Rick, she all but admitted it. Hell, he obviously wasn’t ready for it. He let her go, he had to. He would stay away from her from now on. It was the right thing to do.

So why did it feel so fucking wrong?

Chapter 6

Quinn didn’t remember driving home from Dane’s house after she all but ran away from Rick… again. No, that wasn’t right. This time, he pushed her away. His behavior was so erratic, almost unbalanced, that Quinn didn’t have any clue what he wanted from her.

Even though her mind agreed it was for the best that they didn’t pursue anything, it still shattered her heart. At one point, she was crying so hard in the truck, she was surprised to find she made it back to her apartment above Sanctum in one piece. After a few shots of vodka and convincing herself she was better off without Rick, she calmed down enough to flop into bed, managing to catch a few hours of sleep before another long day at work.

Sitting at her desk with a giant cup of coffee, Quinn made a fourth attempt to input some figures into a simple spreadsheet. Frustrated beyond belief, she kept messing up, unable to focus on anything except her blinding headache and Rick’s dejected expression when he asked her to leave Dane’s house.

Quinn hadn’t expected Rick to want her back after what she did. But she had expected he’d be less confused, angry one minute then showing his desire for her the next. Even as he showed her to the door she could sense how undecided he was about how he felt.

Quinn knew that it wasn’t fair to give Rick only half of the explanation for her disappearance. He gave her a chance to confess her past with Travis, to justify her reasons for running away, and she blew it. She would have to live with that, she couldn’t let him see how weak she was with Travis. Didn’t want him to know how she had let herself fall the victim. It was humiliating. Once Rick knew, he would always see her as a pathetic, abused wife, and that was something she couldn’t live with. She wanted Rick to be with her because he cared, not because he thought she was damaged goods that needed fixing.