Chapter Twenty-two: Archer

Chapter Twenty-Two

Archer

I missed a call from Quinn today, and I noticed it right before I went into surgery. I’ve never had a hard time clearing my head before, but today, as I wash my hands and have my surgical scrubs put on, it’s all I can think about. She hasn’t called me—ever. What if something is wrong? She didn’t leave a message, and she didn’t text either.

I’m sure everything is fine with her and the baby. It has to be. As awful as I feel to admit it, there’s a small part of me that’s glad Quinn is pregnant. The timing couldn’t be worse. Dean is going to hate us both. He’ll forgive Quinn eventually, but the light he holds her in will forever be dimmed.

But now that she’s pregnant, we’re talking, and we have a chance. And if anyone was to be the mother of my child, no one is better than Quinn.

Sam puts the patient under and we get started. As soon as I make the first cut, I’m back in the game, and the surgical team and I make small talk as we go about treating the patient.

An hour later, I go into the PACU to check on my patient and get stuck talking to his overly-involved mother, who doesn’t think I know what I’m talking about in terms of recovery. I’ve dealt with my fair share of difficult patients before. I know how to handle them and what to say, but today it’s testing my patience.

I need to call Quinn back.

Finally, I get into the break room. I lean against the wall by the window and call Quinn. She answers right away and sounds worse than she did yesterday.

“Hey,” she says, voice hoarse.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, though I already know the answer. I’ve called her every day since Sunday when I saw her last, and Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday have all been the same in terms of morning sickness, and it seems to be getting worse and worse as the days go on. And now she has a nasty cold that went from bad to worse overnight.

“I’m pretty congested. I actually went home from work. I just got in. But I’m fine,” she adds quickly, like she always does. She doesn’t want sympathy and is one of the toughest people I know. She’s going through this all alone, and I hate it.

I should be there with her. When she’s throwing up, I should be holding her hair, rubbing her back, and bringing her water and a cloth to wipe her face. It kills me to be hours away, unable to go to her, showing up within a moment’s notice to bring her whatever she’s craving.

“Rest should help. That cough doesn’t sound too good though.”

“I’ll be fine. I get colds like this every now and then. How are you?”

“I’m good. Just got out of surgery. I miss you, Quinn,” I tell her, heart aching. I miss her so much it hurts, but I don’t know how to make her believe me. I fucked up, and I know it. I should have called her after I left all those weeks ago. I should have manned up and told her how I really felt.

It might not have changed this situation, but at least she’d know I saw her—that I still see her—as more than a booty call. She wasn’t a convenient piece of ass for me just because I was in Chicago. Sleeping with Quinn meant more to me than she’ll ever know.

But I can’t tell her now. She won’t believe me. She already thinks I’m only talking to her because she’s pregnant.

“If I’m sick, will they still do the ultrasound?” she asks.

“Yeah, though coughing might make things a little painful.”

“Really? Don’t they just put that thing on my belly?”

I push off the wall and go to the coffee pot to pour myself another cup. “They will, but they also do an internal one this early.”

“Internal?” She pauses for a second. “Oh, right. Some girls at the office talked about it before. They called it a dildo cam. Now I get it.”

I laugh. “That’s pretty much what it is. I was able to get tomorrow off.”

“Really? So you can be there with me?” I can tell she’s smiling when she’s talking. She starts to say something else but cuts off, coughing. “Ugh, I feel like shit. Can I call you back later?”

“Of course. You need rest. Have you taken anything for the cold?”

“Everything I have in my medicine cabinet says it’s not safe to take during pregnancy. I’ll go out later.”

My stomach starts to knot. She’s sick. Pregnant. I want to be the one to bring her medication. “Do you have a humidifier? That’ll help with the congestion.”

“No. I’ll get one too.” She starts coughing again, and it’s the kind of cough I hear when patients have bronchitis or pneumonia. “I’m going to take a nap first. I feel like I was hit by a truck. Sorry for complaining.”

“You’re not complaining, Quinn.”

“I am, and it annoys me when people complain, so I’m sorry.”

I set my jaw, looking at the clock. Technically, I’m done with my scheduled surgeries for the day. It’ll be asking for a miracle, but for Quinn, I’ll make it happen.

*

I stand outside Quinn’s door, bag in my hand, and pull out my phone. I’m lucky I didn’t get pulled over for speeding on the way here, and it had to be divine intervention for the lack of traffic.

Quinn’s phone rings once. Twice. Three times. I don’t think she’s going to answer. That’s okay. I’ll wait. I waited to get into the building, sneaking in behind someone like a creep. But I wanted to surprise Quinn.

“Hello?” she answers, sounding like she just woke up.

“Hey, are you home?”

“Yeah,” she says, and she sounds sicker than before. “I’m trying to muster up the energy to go out and get medicine. I feel worse now.”

“You don’t have to go out. Just open your door.”

“What are you talking about?”

I knock on the door and wait. A few seconds later, Quinn opens the door, phone still pressed to her ear. She looks at me in shock. And then she starts crying.

“Quinn,” I say, putting the bag and my phone down. I step in, taking her in my arms. “Sorry. I thought surprising you was a good idea.”

“It is. It’s a really good idea,” she sniffles, then turns her head to cough. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Chuckling, I wrap Quinn in a tighter hug and kiss the top of her head. The moment I felt her against me, everything clicked into place. This is where I’m supposed to be.

With Quinn.

Pregnant or not, she’s the only one for me. I’ve known it for years. Fought it as hard as I could. There was never any point because everything always went back to her.

We move inside, and I get out the medicine I brought for Quinn. “This is all safe for pregnancy,” I tell her. “I don’t know how much it’ll help, but it’s better than nothing.”

Quinn sits on the couch, pulling a blanket around her shoulders. She looks sick, with bags under her eyes and pale skin.

“I can’t believe you came. How did you get off work?”

“I was able to switch on-call days with another surgical resident. I’m working Sunday instead.”

“You gave up your weekend for me?”

“I’d give up a lot more than that for you, Quinn.” I go to her, wrap her in my arms again, and lay down on the couch. Quinn coughs, turning her head away from me, and then lays down. I rub her back and cover her back up with the blanket.

“This is nice,” she mumbles, eyes closed.

“It is.” This is how it should be. Every day. “Are you tired?”

“Yeah. I tried to take a nap but didn’t sleep very long. It’s hard to sleep when I’m all stuffy like this.”

“Take a hot shower to break up some of the congestion. I’ll set up the humidifier in your room and will rub your back until you fall asleep.”

Quinn looks at me, eyes full of emotion. She’s glad I’m here, but she’s also confused. I know it’s my fault. I promise myself right then and there that I’m going to fix it. I sit up with her in my arms, and stand, helping her to her feet. Quinn grabs a tissue and blows her nose.

“Sorry. It’s gross, I know.”

“I spent an hour in surgery this morning draining abscesses and it was oddly satisfying,” I tell her. “So blowing your nose doesn’t gross me out in the least.”

“Good.” She gives me a small smile. “Thank you, Archer.” She grabs another tissue and goes into the bathroom.

The cats follow me around when I go into the kitchen. There are a few dirty dishes in the sink, so I rinse them and put them in the dishwasher. I fill a glass with water and take it along with the medicine into Quinn’s room, setting it on the nightstand. I bring a chair in from the dining table and put the humidifier on it next to Quinn’s bed.

I sit on the edge of the bed, petting Neville until Quinn comes out of the shower. Her hair is twisted in a messy bun on the top of her head, and she's wearing a loose-fitting t-shirt that barely covers her ass. She’s not wearing pants, and her pink and black panties show when she walks.

I swallow hard, looking her over. She’s so fucking gorgeous, even when she’s sick. She comes to the bed, sitting heavily, and lays back.

“Is this okay?” she asks, reaching for the blanket.

“What do you mean?” I pull the blankets over both of us.

“Wearing this. I mean…you’ve seen me naked before. I’ve seen you naked. But we’re not…we’re not dating,” she says, almost wincing at the words. “And I wasn’t sure if I should put on pants or not. I either just wear underwear or shorts to bed.”

“Oh, right. I, uh, don’t know. I’m fine with it as long as you’re comfortable.”

She rolls over, facing the humidifier. “I’m comfortable. Around you, I mean.”

I lay down next to her, spooning my body next to hers, and put my hand over her abdomen. Quinn’s hand lands on top of mine, and she lets out a deep breath.

“Archer?” she says softly.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

I kiss the back of her neck. “Me too.”

*

Waking up with Quinn in my arms is the best feeling in the world. The sun is setting, and we’ve both been asleep for hours. Quinn is still asleep, snoring slightly through her stuffy nose. I brush loose strands of her hair back from her face and kiss her softly.

Slowly, I get up and use the bathroom, then climb back into bed with Quinn. In her sleep, she rolls over and wraps her arm around me. I hold her close, never wanting to let go.

Then she starts coughing, waking herself up. Groaning, she sits up and reaches for the glass of water, but hesitates. I smile, remembering her saying she won’t drink out of a glass that’s been sitting unattended.

“I’ll get you a fresh glass,” I offer and get out of bed. I go into the kitchen, Neville winding around my feet the whole way, and get a clean glass from the cabinet.

“Thanks,” Quinn says when I get back, taking the water from me.

“How are you feeling?”

“I think a little better. I don’t have a headache anymore.”

“That’s good. Are you hungry?”

“Kind of. I don’t really have an appetite. Though I do want Sour Patch Kids.” She sets the glass down and lays back in my arms. I kiss her neck and pull her onto my chest.

“I like this,” she says softly, blushing as if I’m going to think it’s stupid.

“I do too, Quinn.” Taking a breath, I look into her eyes. “I like being with you, and I’m not saying that because you’re pregnant,” I add. “I should have called you. You have no idea how much I regret not calling you.”

Her brows pinch together, and she nods and splays her fingers over my chest. “I wished you called. I got mad at you when you didn’t.”

“I noticed,” I say with a smile, thinking back to seeing her walk into her parents’ house over the past weekend.

“And I feel like I should still be mad at you, but there’s so much else going on I don’t have the energy to.”

“I guess that’s good for me? If you want to be mad, I can’t blame you. But if you want to give this a shot—give us a shot—it’d make me really happy.”

She sits up, looking into my eyes. “You mean like be a couple?”

“Yes.”

Quinn bites her lip, considering my words. “Are you sure you want to date me?”

“Hmmm…let me think about it. Okay, thought about it. Yes.”

Quinn smiles. “I feel like you’re only getting half of me though and it won’t be a fair representation of who I really am.”

“What are you talking about?” I run my hand up the back of her thigh.

“I can be really annoying when I’m drunk. And I can’t drink.”

My fingers edge along the hem of her panties. “I don’t think that will be a determining factor. At all. You don’t drink very often, right?”

“No.”

“See? Not a problem at all.”

She smiles. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to be with me because I’m pregnant.”

“I don’t at all. I know I left and didn’t call and that doesn’t help my case, but I promise you, Quinn, I wouldn’t have slept with you the first time if I didn’t like you.” I swallow hard, heart beating fast. “I kind of panicked after.”

“Really?” Quinn lifts her head up, looking at me incredulously.

“Really. Dean’s been my best friend for over a decade. Your family is like my family, and I knew the mess it would make if they found out about us.”

Quinn lets out a strangled snort of laughter. “Oh, it’s going to be very messy. Dean’s not going to be happy to hear that we’re dating, let alone that you knocked me up.”

“I know.” I slide my hand over her ass and close my eyes. “But it’s worth it, Quinn. You’re worth it. I mean, we have a lot at stake now.”

“Yeah, we do.”

“I want to raise this child together.” Because I love you.

“Me too.” She rests her head back on my chest. “You said you work next weekend, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“We need to tell my family.”

The thought makes my stomach knot up. “Yeah. We do.”

“Maybe we can take it in stages. Tell them we’re dating first, then drop the baby-bomb.”

“Good idea.” I squeeze Quinn’s ass again. She’s finally my girlfriend, and though it didn’t happen the way I thought, I have a good feeling about us. “I work Saturday and Sunday, but I’m off Thursday evening and all of Friday.”

“I can leave early Thursday and take Friday off.”

“So, dinner at your parents’ Thursday night?”

Quinn lifts her head, looking into my eyes. “Yeah. We’ll tell everyone in a week.”