The Downside of Love (The Blue Line Duet Book 2) by Meghan Quinn

Author:Meghan Quinn [Quinn, Meghan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-06-30T16:00:00+00:00

“Why!” Ryan moans, holding her card to the air. “Why do I always get paid shit with this game?” She tosses her salary card onto the game board and scoffs at it. “I’m not asking for much here, but more than twenty thousand a year would be awesome. Fucking game.” She takes a pull from her beer bottle and sulks.

It was Ryan’s decision to play Life after dinner, excited that there was more than one other person to play with, but I’m guessing her excitement is short-lived after the card she just pulled.

“Let me guess, I’m going to have twins and then get a divorce? Happens to me every time. I should really stop playing this godforsaken game.”

Just then, her phone rings and when she sees the caller ID, a big smile spreads across her face. “It’s Brad, so I’m going to take this in my room. You guys can keep playing, or not, do what you want, but I’m taking this phone call.”

Hopping up from her chair, she answers her phone and skips toward her bedroom, leaving me alone with Rory.

Twisting her lips to the side, she eyes the game board and then takes a look at the time. “I should probably get going.” Because she doesn’t want to be alone with me, I know that’s how this works. I made things awkward so she’s bailing.

“Do you really have to go?” I ask, hating that she’s going to leave.

“Yeah, I have some laundry to fold and little things to do around the apartment. I uh, washed your sheets for you. I’ll make your bed. That is, unless you plan on not coming back.”

“What? Of course I’m coming back.”

“Okay, I mean, you don’t have to, but if you decide you want to, I can make your bed for you.” She stands from the table and goes to the kitchen where she starts gathering her things.

Standing as well, I follow closely behind her. “Rory, are you upset with me?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I guess I was just surprised that you left, that’s all. I didn’t know if it was something I did or said.”

“Rory.” I tilt her chin up so she’s forced to look me in the eyes. “I was giving you space. I didn’t want you to get sick of me.”

“I wasn’t.” Her answer is direct. There is no bouncing around the problem; she gets straight to the point. I like that about her.

“Okay, well . . . that’s good to know.”

Christ.

Her face once again falls flat, and I hate that I’m not good at this shit. I don’t know what to tell her without revealing my true feelings, without telling her that there is nothing I want to do more than go home to her apartment—to our comfortable sanctuary—and take her in my arms, spread her beautiful legs out on the bed, and bury myself deep inside her. And never leave.

I want to hear my name fall off her lips, while my hips thrust in and out of her.

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