Lost the Handle (Nashville Assassins: Next Generation #8)

Chapter 33

Chapter

Thirty-Three

Quinn

Owen: Update on last night? Was there a murder?

Evan: Bro.

Shelli: Omg.

Posey: I can sum up the night in the words of the great Shea Adler: Put your hands on my son again, and I’ll pay Emery’s bail.

Owen: NO FUCKING WAY!

Owen: Details!

Owen: I need details!

Shelli: Ava pushed Quinn, and Emery body slammed her to the floor.

Owen: What! Where is my video?

Evan: Jesus, Shell. Our sister is so dramatic. That’s not what happened. Ava did push Quinn, but Emery was very classy as she snatched her by the back of her hair and told her if she did it again, she’d kill her. #SheCanBeClassyWhenSheWants

Posey: This was after Emery looked Ava square in the eye and told her that Ava was his now, but Emery was his future. #BossBitch

Shelli: #IWantToBeEmeryWhenIGrowUp

Owen: That’s it. I need to be traded to the Assassins. I miss all the good stuff.

Posey: True.

Owen: So, what happened? Did our baby brother finally come to his senses?

Shelli: He left with Ava.

Evan: Dad was pissed.

Posey: And no one has heard anything.

Shelli: Our brother is radio silent, and Mom hasn’t heard a thing either.

Owen: So, when are we jumping Ava? At the wedding?

As everyone laughs and likes Owen’s question, I mute the sibling chat. I lean back in the seat of the Bugatti, letting my head fall back on a groan. I’m becoming the clown of the family, and it isn’t sitting right with me. I’ve always been the smart one, the one everyone looked to because I was a wealth of information. I always had an answer for whatever anyone needed to know.

While hockey didn’t work out for me, I’m still brilliant with my photographic brain. Though, my big brain was no match for the heartache of Emery walking away. Still, once I was somewhat on my feet, my plan to make my family proud came back to center stage. A plan I’ve been working toward since I was a teenager.

But plans change, don’t they?

It’s hard being the baby in a family of such dynamic people. Each of them shines in their places in the hockey world, and then there is me. Yes, I did assist on a surgery this morning on a kid’s elbow, and it went great. After rehab, the kid will hit the ice with ease, but knowing that didn’t fill me with excitement like I thought it would. Instead, I stressed myself out with the what-ifs. What if I didn’t screw the pin in hard enough? What if his sutures get infected? What if we think he’ll make a full recovery, but I fucked something up and ruined his hockey career?

Fuck.

Anxiety runs in my family, Evan getting the brunt of it, but I never thought I’d join the battle. I guess you never know when anxiety will hit. It comes at you like a fucking thief in the night and steals the joy from your soul. It really didn’t affect me until I started training on surgeries. I considered trying medication, but the side effects aren’t worth it to me. I’ve tried meditation and even breathing exercises, but they haven’t been working. It’s fucking unfair. My poor mom struggled with it growing up. She hated her body, and with the shit her family did to her, she couldn’t overcome it. Until my dad. He was her peace.

Emery.

Even without touching her, I find just being in her space clears my mind.

I close my eyes while I breathe deeply through my nose and recount what I did after the surgery. I was so overwhelmed that I grabbed a guitar off the wall from Dr. Abrams’s display of vintage guitars and started playing. I didn’t even mean to make my own acoustic version of “Birds of a Feather” by Billie Eilish, but a certain pair of gray eyes were on my mind, and it just happened. I was surprised how quickly my anxiety vanished, and I was left with one hell of a song and thoughts of my girl.

I miss her.

And while I want to tell her everything, I feel like such a fucking idiot. I know her. I know she’ll pay Ava off. She’ll tell me to quit it all and have me work with her. It’s as if she knew how it would all play out by naming the company after both of us. While it all sounds good in my heart, my mind is right there, reminding me that my dad would be disappointed. How could he not?

I know he was good to Evan, that he supported my brother through some really rough panic attacks and told him to choose his mental health over a sport, but at least Evan tried. It’s different for me. I’ve never exhibited anxiety before, while Evan always did. It was almost expected for him when he started struggling on the ice. But for me, it would be coming out of left field. I’ve always been so strong, so solid, and I don’t want to let anyone down. What if they blame Emery for pulling me away from an honest career helping the industry my family is known for?

They’ll think I’m choosing a woman over what I was raised to do.

Heal the hockey stars of America.

But what if that’s not my dream anymore?

Am I thinking this way because I know I won’t be able to keep practicing once I break this off with Ava? I’m a joke in our sibling chat, but soon, I’ll be the embarrassment of the family. A genius who had to have someone take his exams for him. I allowed my heart to overcome my brain, and while I know that’s pathetic, I’m not sorry.

I missed Emery. I love her, and I couldn’t fathom her leaving me, leaving behind not only our love but our friendship. It was hard. Shit, it’s been hard since she came back. Jesus, this is a clusterfuck. Ava is going to gut me, and then Emery will murder her. I’ll be dead, and Emery will be in jail.

Now, I’m being dramatic like Shelli.

I tap my fingers along the black leather steering wheel. It’s a nice day out, sunny and hot, but behind the blacked-out windows of the Bugatti, it’s comfortable as the air purrs and my music plays low. I glance down at my phone and the name of the person I want to call. I can’t because it’ll give her more reason to take Ava down. Not that she needs much.

I want to call my dad, but I’m not ready for him to be disappointed in me. I’m not ready to own up to what I’ve done and find out how this will affect my future. I consider calling Benson, but his life is on hyperdrive as it is. He doesn’t need me and my issues weighing on him. I could call Posey, but she’s meeting with the doctors today. She has a lot on her mind, and I’d rather not add to it. Plus, she’ll tell my mom or my siblings, and then all-out war will ensue. I’m sure they’ll get Emery to lead the charge.

If she hasn’t already started to plan one as it is.

Fuck, I just want her.

I want us. I want the future I know we can have together. It kills me that she held herself to the standard of our moms and thought I wouldn’t love her if she wasn’t just like them. It’s insane to me. I don’t want my mom or hers; I want Emery. She’s it for me—always has been and always will be. I hate that she doubted herself. It’s so out of character1 for her, which only has guilt plaguing me even more. That I made her feel that way by choosing medicine, when all I wanted to do was make my dad proud.

What the fuck am I doing?

My family will always be my blood, but the family I want to build with Emery will be what feeds my soul.

A lump forms in my throat just as my phone goes off. I look down, and I quirk my lips at the sight of her name on my phone.

Emery: Why are you sitting in your car?

I bring in my brows.

Me: What the hell? Did you hack the mainframe of the car to watch me?

Emery: I mean, I could. But no. I’m parked beside you.

I look over as she’s getting out of my Tesla. Her hair is down, wild curls along her back as she walks around the car. I throw open my door, letting one leg out as she saunters toward me. Those hips sway, her eyes dark, heavy-lidded, and on me, looking like a snack I want to devour. When she steps between my leg and the car, I reach out, cupping the back of her thigh, rubbing her tender skin with my thumb. She’s wearing a tennis skirt and an Olivia Rodrigo shirt, her cheeks rosy and her eyes focused on me.

“Hey, lovebug.”

Her eyes brighten, a light gray that leaves me breathless. “Hey.” She runs her fingers along my chest to the pocket of my scrubs. She traces her fingers over my embroidered name. “What are you doing?”

I capture her hand, bringing it to my lips and kissing the tips of her fingers before I gaze up at her, in awe of her beauty. “Thinking about you.”

She smiles. “Really?”

“Always,” I tell her before crooking my finger at her to come closer.

When she leans in for a kiss, I snake my arm around her and pull her into my lap as she squeals. I throw the seat back before shutting the door and grinning up at her. She maneuvers her body until she straddles me, and her sweet ass presses down on my thighs. There isn’t much headroom with the curve of the Bugatti, but neither of us minds as she leans in, her hair falling in a curtain around us before she captures my mouth with her own. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her to me so that her breasts press against my chest. I sigh into her mouth as she spears her fingers through my hair. The kiss is hot, unrestrained, and full of desperate need. I hold her, never wanting to let her go. Her lips are warm, soft, and once again, I sigh from the rightness of her in my arms like this. She presses her forehead to mine, breaking the kiss as our noses brush against the other’s.

“You okay?” she asks, sliding her thumb along the furrow in my brow. “Stressing?”

She knows me so well. No amount of time apart could destroy our knowledge of each other. Unable to lie to her, I nod, admitting, “I assisted on an elbow repair for a thirteen-year-old. Just worried about his recovery.”

She continues to stroke her thumb along my brows. “You’re the best, Quinn. He’ll be fine.”

I smile against her lips, not realizing how badly I needed her words. I know she wants me to work with her, but that doesn’t stop her from always supporting me. From wanting only the best for me. Even if she thought leaving me was for the best, I know that she didn’t make that choice lightly. That it blackened a bit of her soul. Just like her absence blackened mine.

I need her closer, so I clutch her ass in my hands. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t know, honestly,” she laughs, her eyes bright. “I was across the street for coffee and saw the office. I figured I’d walk over and tell you to come out for your lunch, but you were here.”

I can’t stop my smile. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” She wraps her arms around my neck as her eyes drift shut, and we share a deep breath together. This is what it’s like with her. Immeasurable peace when she’s in my arms. Electricity courses through me, almost making my skin feel like it’s tingling. And while, sure, I want her, it’s more than that. I need the intimacy of us. The feel of her in my arms.

“Have you talked to Ava?”

I don’t want to talk about that, but I owe it to her to answer. I swallow. “Not yet, but I don’t want to talk about her.”

Her eyes flash with annoyance. “Are you going to talk to her?”

“I plan to. Just trying to get all my thoughts together. My ducks in a row, if you will.”

“I’m here for you,” she tells me, her eyes burning into mine. “Whatever you need. Money, hacking skills, distractions. I’m really good at distractions.”

My lips curve before I nip at her bottom lip. “I know you are.” I slide my hands up under her skirt to feel her skin, and when I find bare cheeks, I jerk my head back in surprise. I trail my fingers to the seam of her ass to find nothing there. Meanwhile, Emery is grinning like a cat with a canary in its mouth. “Where are your panties, my naughty lovebug?”

Her eyes darken, her lids hooding as she shrugs. “I left them in your car.”

I was sporting a semi before, but now, I’m harder than a steel pipe. “Did you now?”

She nods, all sweetness gone, replaced by pure, sultry sex kitten. She leans in, her hands moving between us to the waistband of my pants. “I remember being told that you wanted to fuck your dream girl in your dream car.” She frees my cock, her eyes dancing with mine. When she grips me in her hand, squeezing me tightly, I hiss out a breath. She lifts herself, her head bumping the ceiling, but neither of us can do anything but pant with desire. On my next breath, I’m buried deep in her slick heat. I groan as she whimpers, her teeth sinking into her lip before her eyes meet mine. “And since it’s my goal to make all your dreams come true, here I am.”

I’m breathless, mindless, and so fucking in love with her, words elude me. Instead, I take her by her sweet ass, and I guide her up and down my cock with vigor. I should be nervous since we’re in the parking lot of the surgery center, but with the blacked-out windows, no one can really see us.

Not that I care.

I knew from the beginning I could never hide Emery. Or keep her on the side the way Ava does Yvette. No. My woman has to shine like the sun, and I will never ask her to do anything but what she is meant to do.

Be mine.