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Chapter Sixteen

Cadence

Standing half off the sidewalk, I waited for the walk sign to glow bright. The wind blew through my hair, tousled strands whipping around in the breeze, blocking my view of the road.

Brushing them away, 'Walk' lit up white, and I scurried across the crosswalk, feet pounding the pavement like I was in a power walking marathon. The thumping of my sneakers sent vibrations through my thighs, chest heavy as my lungs tried to keep up with my stride.

I was supposed to meet Quinn in half an hour, our plan was to go grab lunch before his next class at the center. After all his hard work with the kids, the center finally offered him a paid position.

And with his knowledge, experience, and love of fighting, some of those kids had even gone on to rank top in the state.

He was happy, and that made me happy. He had something he was finally proud of, and he deserved every bit of it.

He stood holding his head high, walking with a sense of meaning. It was nice to see him wear a coat of pride.

Holding the base of my growing stomach, a sharp thud kicked against my palm. The baby had been in a non-stop fighting match of his own with all my organs lately.

Yup, definitely Quinn's son. There's no denying that.

Laughing to myself, I tried to squeeze nonchalantly through a thick group of tourists. But it didn't go over as smoothly as I'd hoped. “Excuse me. Sorry. Excuse me,” I said, bumping into almost every person, and practically knocking down some little old lady.

Gripping the metal pull, I stepped into the building, a flurry of voices and grunts filled the hall. Slowly I tugged the door, not wanting to startle anyone inside. Stepping onto the platform, my hand freed the door from my grip.

Clank! The loud pop rang out across the walls, fifty sets of eyes all flicked up in my direction.

Smiling with my lips tight, my arm bent at the elbow, I waved uncomfortably. The pause in the room seemed to last forever. “Alright guys, focus!” an instructor finally yelled, clapping his hands to draw them back in.

Glancing through the faces, I spotted Quinn resting against the back wall, one arm fixed to his hip. Curling his free hand through his hair, his teeth bared brightly, eyes frozen on me.

I love the way he looks at me.

There was this connection, this feeling that would trapeze around my insides when he laid his eyes on me.

Pointing to my wrist like I was wearing a watch, I nodded my head towards the exit behind me. Peeling his shoulders from the wall, he raised a finger for me to hold on, and leaned down towards his students.

Quinn was a great teacher, and had the patience of a saint. Which I knew would come in handy when our little one finally arrived.

He's going to make a great father.

Resting on the railing, I watched him adjust the placement of one of the kids arms. His lips moved, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. The kid looked young, blue tape wrapped his small hands, the shorts he wore were a size too big, his hands repeatedly tugging on the trim to lift them up.

Watching Quinn in action, it turned my stomach into knots, there was so much care in his eyes for those kids. The faces of all his students sat fixed on his words, the small boy nodded and followed his directions. Quinn smiled down on him, shaking his head 'yes' and ruffling his hair.

My fist held my chin up as I stared at the man who had swept me off my feet, saved me from becoming the person I hated, and gave me a life to love. I could never thank him enough for showing me that life didn't have to be cut out for you by someone else; you needed to mold the life you wanted.

Meeting my gaze, he made his way around the small groups in class. His muscles flexed, the ink dancing rhythmically across his skin, taunting my desires.

That's mine, all mine.A surge of excitement heated my belly, tingles running up my spine, my heart fluttering wildly.

Now that feeling could have just been the baby again, but I chalked it up as a win for myself either way.

“Hey, ready for lunch, Babe?” he asked, jumping steps as he climbed the platform. Rolling his shirt over his head, he leaned in and kissed me. The delicate peck filled my brain with sparks.

“Yeah, I'm starving.” I ran my fingers over his forearm, twirling the seam of his shirt.

“Good, me too.” He pushed the door open, guiding me out by the small of my back. “There's a little Italian place around the corner that's pretty good.”

“I don't care where we go, as long as it has food.” Chuckling, I placed my hand on my stomach, the grumbling so loud I was sure he could hear it.