Page 24 of What We Got Wrong

“Let’s get you back,” she said. Quinn walked her to their room and, after firing off a text to Emma that they were in for the night, helped Liv take her shoes off. She asked her where she kept her makeup wipes, and helped remove the beauty products from her skin, then laid out a set of pajamas for her to change into while Quinn went to change in the bathroom, stopping on the way back by the vending machines down the hall to grab a couple of bottles of water and a few packets of Tylenol for the morning.

Quinn handed the items over to her when she walked back into the room, before they both laid in their respective beds, Quinn on her back, staring at the ceiling, Liv angled so that she was facing her.

“Are we okay?” Liv asked softly, sounding close to sleep.

“Of course.”

“Good,” she replied. “And Quinn?”

“Yeah?”

“Emma was right,” Liv said, before adding, as she drifted off to sleep, “That was incredibly hot.”

Suddenly, Quinn was very much awake, and maybe she wasn’t so okay after all.

Chapter 9

Quinn

Now

Quinn was doing very well, if she did say so herself, not completely dismantling after her conversation with Liv that morning. She’d gone to a breakout session in the morning and collected a handful of business cards. Then, after grabbing sandwiches at a shop around the corner, she’d gone up to Mel’s room so that they could check in and track the leads she had so far.

She could do this. She could be professional, and she could not think about the fact that Liv, her Liv, was in this building, emphatically not married. Quinn wasn’t going to spiral at all about that, about how Liv had looked at her with pouty lips and soft eyes and asked her to go to coffee. Quinn wasn’t thinking about Liv telling her that she’d missed her, not at all.

It was fine. Quinn was here to work, and even if that hadn’t been the case, there were about a million reasons for them to not get pulled into each other’s orbit again, not the least of which was that, the last time, Quinn had been left a putrid shell of herself.

“Are you good?” Mel asked, as they tucked away the cards they’d received so far behind the ‘Monday’ tab of the holder they’d brought for this very purpose, the cards in order of how solid the lead felt. It was an entirely subjective system, but it worked for them.

“I’m fine,” Quinn assured her. “Head fully removed from ass.”

Mel wasn’t going to accept that as the full answer. “What did she say this morning?”

Quinn shrugged. “I thought you wanted me to focus on work.”

“I do,” Mel assured, though it was clear her curiosity was getting the better of her. “I was just, you know. Wondering if she told you anything that might help us out?”

“Mmhmm,” Quinn replied, rolling her eyes, before remembering that Liv had said something important to their business. “Oh, actually. She specifically said that we should meet her dad. Said he’s seen our video, and he’s a fan.”

“I get it, I’m so charismatic,” Mel responded, glowing with confidence. “What else did she say?”

Quinn’s eyes dropped. She didn’t want to talk about it, but she was a messy mix of confused and excited, and it was probably a good idea to just tell Mel. “She made it very clear that she’s not, in fact, married, and I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Whoa,” Mel replied, before smirking at Quinn and adding, “I think you know what she wants you to do with that.”

“You’re giving me mixed messages,” Quinn muttered.

“I’m a real enigma,” Mel said.

“You’re thinking about hooking up with the woman from the Phoenix office,” Quinn assumed. “And you don’t want to be a hypocrite?”

“She put a little heart by her name when she gave me her business card,” Mel replied, her voice almost wistful.

“Clearly meant to be.” Quinn’s phone pinged, and she saw that Emma had texted her a picture of her daughter. “Paisley photo update!”

“Is Emma in this picture?” Mel asked slyly.

“No,” Quinn said, but she held up the picture for her anyway. Emma’s kid, Quinn’s goddaughter, was the cutest little mini me of her mommy, with her red hair, freckles, and round cheeks. She held a special place in Quinn’s heart, the first little one to call her Aunt Q, and even though they only saw each other about once a month, Emma tried to send pictures every few days. In this one, she was wrapped in a blanket, passed out, her rosy cheeks making her look like a doll.