“Don’t hate me.”
“I could never hate you. Unless you quit your job, had a beautiful baby and moved to the quintessential town featured in every Hallmark Channel movie.”
I purse my lips, staring at her. “Then I guess you might hate me. Though it’s a small chance. Very small. The hospital in Eastwood is small, and I don’t think Archer would be happy there. And he mentioned a while ago that the smaller the surgical team, the more on-call hours he’ll have. Bigger hospitals have bigger teams and more people to pool from for on-call shifts.”
“That makes sense.”
I nod. “He really likes being a surgeon.”
“I’d hope so, after a million years of school. But he likes you more.”
I smile again. “Yeah. I think so too.”
18
Archer
I hang up the phone and rub my temples. I wasn’t expecting that. Not at fucking all. I’m still a little stunned. Raising my arms above my head, I stretch and roll my neck. I’m used to standing in the same position for hours and didn’t realize I’ve been sitting and hardly moved for the last hour and a half.
I go to the window, giving myself a moment to process everything, and look down at the city. I’m in Quinn’s kitchen, and the view is amazing. In my younger years, I would have loved to live here. I’d feel like a fucking baller up in this place, with its large white kitchen and lakefront view.
But now…now I’m questioning raising a child in a place like this. Not because I don’t think it’s fitting, but because I know how Quinn grew up in a small town, and how I watched them, an outsider looking in, and thought the Dawsons were fucking perfect.
I press one hand against the cool glass, staring at Lake Michigan until my vision goes blurry. Recalling everything I said in the last half hour, I don’t have any regrets, which is a first.
“I think that went well,” I tell Neville, crouching down to pet the fat orange cat. “Better than I expected.”
My eyes fall shut and I sit on the floor, leaning against the window. I’m tired and want to try to get a few hours of sleep before Quinn comes home from work. I need to catch up on my sleep for my own sake, but mostly, I want to go out and have fun with Quinn tonight before I have to leave and get back to work in the morning.
Physically, I’m worn the fuck out. Mentally, I’m even more exhausted, but it’s going to be damn hard to turn my brain off. My best bet is to jerk off in the shower and collapse into bed, dreaming of Quinn. If I’m really lucky, I’ll stay asleep until she gets home from work and she’ll wake me up with her lips around my cock.
With Quinn, I know it’s possible. She’s everything I could ever want, which is why the phone call that just ended is all the more important to me. I already turned down one job, and I’m having anxiety over it. What if I don’t get offered another? Or if the only other job I’m able to land is hours away?
I squeeze my eyes shut, thinking of Quinn’s pretty face. I can’t let myself fall into negative thinking. I got through med school and all of my residency with the belief I’d land my dream job.
And working at Rush Hospital is a dream.
I’d be in Chicago. With Quinn. We’d be able to live together. Raise Emma as a family. I’ll propose and eventually we’ll get married and have more babies. I meant it when I told Quinn I’d be happy to support her.
I went through years and years of schooling and surviving off shitty-ass food and little sleep to be able to save lives and help others. But I’m also going to really fucking enjoy the salary that comes along with it. Though truth be told, I know I’ll still work long hours even if I can become an attending and have my own residents to assign to weekends and holidays.
Yawning, I pick up Neville and go into the bedroom. Quinn’s pajamas are on the floor, and I smile, thinking of her slender body and ample breasts. They most definitely have gotten bigger, and I’m almost surprised at how turned on I am by her growing belly. Knowing that my baby is inside of her, that I knocked her up, is a strange turn on, one I’m not sure I should openly admit to anyone but Quinn or not.
The tip of my cock tingles and I climb into bed with the thought of Quinn’s tits on my mind. I pull the covers over me, smelling a mixture of Quinn’s perfume and her conditioner on the pillows. I press my face in and breathe deep.
And now I have a boner.
Closing my eyes, I reach down, pushing my hand down the front of my boxers. I take hold of my cock and pump it up and down once. Twice. I moan into the pillow, missing Quinn so bad it hurts.
I’m pathetic, aren’t I? I just saw her an hour ago and I’m already missing her to the point of jerking off to her memory. Though there’s something about Quinn that turns me into a horny teenager all over again. At least this time it’s legal.
I turn on my side, slowly rubbing my shaft. My eyes are shut, and I know once I come I’ll be able to pass out and get some decent sleep until Quinn gets off work. I press my face into my pillow, wishing Quinn was in bed with me.
And then my phone rings.
Blinking and sitting up, I hope it’s Quinn and I can get just a few seconds of sexy talk out of her so I can come. But it’s not Quinn. It’s my fucking mother. I squeeze my eyes shut and exhale heavily. My phone is still ringing, but I’m not in the right headspace to talk to my mother right now.
I catch it on the last ring, putting the call on speaker and laying back down.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Archie. Did I wake you?”
“I’m in bed, but no. Did you find him?”
“I didn’t, but the cops did.”
“Good.” Shit. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Or did I? “I mean, good he’s been found. How is he?”
“He’s high on something.”
“How’d he get caught?”
“He was with that friend he calls Cuddy. I don’t think that’s his real name.”
“Oliver Milstead,” I tell her. I went to school with his younger sister. One of seven, Oliver and his siblings fit the stereotype that comes to mind when you say ‘meth-heads.’ When Bobby started hanging with Oliver, shit hit the fan. I’d love to blame Oliver, say he got my brother hooked on drugs, but the disease was always inside Bobby. He’d been pushing on the door his whole life. Oliver simply gave him the key.
“Right. That man. He was cooking in his garage. Bobby was over at the house at the time.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Archer,” Mom scolds.
I pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “Is he still in jail? Do you need bail money?”
“No, but thanks, honey. He’s out and is home resting. I’m looking up new rehab facilities, ones not in the area. One of Cuddy’s cousins was in the same place with Bobby and convinced him to leave.”
I grit my teeth, beyond irritated at how Mom acts like Bobby is the victim here, coerced into doing bad things against his will. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Of course, hun. How’s Quinn? You said you were in Chicago, right?”
“I am, and she’s good. She’s at work right now.”
“Have you two decided what you’re going to do about that? Work, I mean, after the baby is born.”
>
“Sort of. We’ve did decide that we’re going to move in together.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful! But, uh, where are you moving?”
I close my eyes again. “I’m not sure. It depends on where I get a job. I just had a phone interview with someone from Rush. I’ll find out if they want me to come in for a real interview in a week or two.”
“Why do they have to take so long? They either want you, or they don’t, and they know that right away.”
I find myself smiling. “I wonder the same thing.”
“So you two want to stay in Chicago?”
“Yeah,” I say right away even though I haven’t talked at length about it with Quinn. “She likes her job here.”
“Chicago is nice. And you’re closer to us there than you are in Indy.”
“It is nice,” I say with a yawn.
“I don’t want to keep you, Archie. You sound tired. Get some rest, okay?”
“I will. Let me know if anything changes.”
“Okay, love you, hun.”
I hang up and lay back down, trying for half an hour to go to sleep. I can’t turn off my fucking brain, so I end up turning on the TV and watch two hours’ worth of TV before finally passing out.
Quinn’s lips press against mine, stirring me from sleep. I’m dreaming about her and have a hard time distinguishing between what is real and what’s a dream. It feels the same when we’re together.
“Morning, sunshine,” she whispers, and I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her close to me. She falls into bed, and I spoon my body around hers.
“I missed you,” I grumble, not ready to wake up just yet. It feels like I fell asleep only minutes ago.
“I missed you too.”
“What time is it?” I ask, face in her hair.
“Like two-thirty. Have you been asleep this whole time?”
“Not the whole time.” I’m not sure when I finally fell asleep, but it had to be around eleven. Or even noon. I’m taking years off my life being so tired all the time.
Quinn rolls over and rakes her fingers through my hair. “Go back to sleep.”