Frog and Quinn: Chapter Fifteen (Patreon)

Previously on Frog and Quinn…

Luna Hale decided to take a spontaneous summer trip to Panama City Beach, Florida before her first college semester at Manhattan Valley University begins. Naturally, her bodyguards followed her to the Sunshine State. At the cute boutique hotel, an intruder mistakenly tried to break into Frog & Quinn’s room thinking it was Luna Hale’s. Big whoops…for him!

Frog took Caleb down with an assist from Quinn, and they found out Luna’s location was leaked by the front desk receptionist. Frog became emotionally overwhelmed by the idea that a worst-case scenario could have easily transpired, and Quinn—being Quinn—comforted her with a hug. According to Quinn, this was a “platonic” hug…right?? (But it totally was, if anyone is asking!). They finish the night by waiting for Luna and Donnelly to decide the next steps on their Florida trip.

“Where are you now?” my cousin asks, his brows furrowed in heavy worry. Low internet connection makes his face a little grainy on the computer screen. My laptop rests on a beige-gray oak desk of a new hotel room.

I tell Akara the address of our updated location in Panama City Beach. We’ve swapped the cute boutique hotel for a chain hotel. The cream couch, vinyl plank floors, and basic white-linen beds lack every ounce of charm. If there weren’t rattan light fixtures, a painting of a seashell, and an accent wall with blue watercolor wallpaper, I’d think we could be in any city. Instead, this is a sterile version of coastal modern.

It bums me out knowing that Luna and Donnelly chose to leave the kitschy Florida hotel with tons of personality for something so…blah. But they were quick about packing up their things, wanting safety over aesthetics. I was quicker about booking new rooms. It was a fairly easy process to relocate even under the circumstances.

Akara runs a hand through his hair after he scribbles on a pad of paper. His expression is not easing out of concern. I’d like to think this is just him being worried about an employee, but Quinn isn’t on this Zoom. He’s asleep behind me on the double bed closest to the door—which he demanded to have. I was too tired to put up much of a fight. Anyway, I got the bed by the A/C which was a big relief considering I sweated my ass off chasing down that douchebag Caleb.

Quickly, I glance back over my shoulder to check on Quinn. He’s sleeping on his stomach in nothing but a pair of black boxer-briefs. My brain tries to scramble together an observation other than he’s hot. The sculpted muscles of his back, his round ass, and his toned left leg are all outside the covers. He sleeps like he’s one of those chalk outlines in a murder scene.

Not that I can blame him for passing out cold. After we wrote the incident report last night, we both crashed. In our own separate beds. We never mentioned accidentally cuddling on the floor together—which was a saving grace in that I can die without ever acknowledging drooling on him. Otherwise, maybe it would have been an interesting conversation.

Would Quinn have shrugged it off?

 Would he have said that it can never happen again?

Would he make it seem like a friendly mistake?

The questions were just part of the reason I could barely sleep last night. I also kept thinking about the hug he’d given me. How it felt like I was being cloaked in a protective barrier. How no one has made me feel more invincible. Indestructible. And then I thought—if his hugs could do that, what would kissing him feel like?

It sent me on a mental spiral.

“Frog,” Akara urges my attention back to the computer screen. He texted me first thing this morning after he read the report and asked for a meeting. I thought this was a work thing until he told me I didn’t have to wake up Quinn.

It must be a cousin thing.

“I’m fine,” I assure Akara again. I quickly pop some earbuds into my ears and connect them to my computer, so this conversation doesn’t disturb Quinn.

His eyes are heavy on me. “You put a guy in a submission move.”

“The one you had been training me to do.”

Akara nods, his jaw tensed. “I didn’t say it was wrong. It’s just that you can’t do that on a hard surface without getting hurt.”

I don’t glance at my legs. The top layer of skin has been scrapped off on both kneecaps.

“Just a couple of bruises,” I tell him.

“I want you to get a medical exam—”

“Whoawhoawhoa,” I hold up my hands and whisper-hiss so as not to wake Quinn. “That’s overkill.”

“It’s not overkill. It’s company policy.”

“Which company?” I frown. “Yours or Triple Shield?”

“Both. We’re working together.”

“Why does this feel like a new policy?”

“It’s not,” Akara tells me. “You’re just in Florida and not around the med team. Usually, Farrow will just go ahead and check on the guys after an incident like this.” Farrow. Of course. He’s double duty as a bodyguard and a concierge doctor for our famous clients. Akara leans back at his desk chair. Hands threaded behind his neck. “Can you just do this, Frog?”

“No,” I say. “Because if I go to the urgent care for a couple of bruises, I’m going to look silly.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but a black box appears on the Zoom screen with the name “IAN WREATH” in big bold white letters.

Okay, maybe this is a work meeting. There’s no other reason the Epsilon lead, my superior, would be joining this early-morning call.

Ian’s camera turns on. The thirty-four-year-old has a chiseled jaw and one of those faces that matches just about every high-school-jock-turned-professional-asshole. Honestly, he has a forgettable face. Maybe that makes him a better bodyguard than most. Ian blends. And currently his hair drips water down his temples like he just jumped out of the shower to take this call. He’s also the same age as Scooter. I don’t know why that unhelpful comparison jumps into my brain, but my pulse accelerates like I’m behind the wheel in an F1 race

“Should I go wake Quinn?” I scoot my chair back from the desk.

Ian shakes his head. “That’s not necessary. Akara and I wanted to have this discussion with just you.”

 Okaay? That feels way too ominous to not poke at. “Why?” I narrow my eyes skeptically.

“Because Quinn is temporarily on Luna’s detail. If we want to get you back to being her primary bodyguard, you need to do things without him.”

Temporarily. The reminder is a gut punch.

Truthfully, I’ve forgotten that Quinn’s presence is temporary. No one has brought it up in the past six months. There has not been a single hint or notion that he’d be leaving anytime soon.

My palms sweat, and I rub them on my silk pajama bottoms. I would have totally dressed up for this had I known it was a serious meeting and not a check-in from my cousin. I blame Akara. But does that make me unprofessional? Maybe I need to take responsibility…even in my head.

My throat dries when I ask, “I thought Luna would need two bodyguards indefinitely because of her threat level?”

“That is true,” Akara replies. “But we need to get to a point where the second bodyguard is either a temp or a recent hire. Someone you can even train alongside you. They’ll be your subordinate. Not your equal. Quinn has become too valuable to be an extra set of hands.”

My eyes bug. “Wait, you trust me to train someone?”

“Eventually, Frog,” Ian cuts in. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He shoots a look at my cousin. At least, I think he does. It’s a little difficult knowing who’s looking where on this video call.

“She has good instincts,” Akara defends me.

“I didn’t say she didn’t,” Ian says and then refocuses on me. “Look, you’re on the right path. Luna trusts you, and this trip has been a good gauge of where you’re at. Trips like this can be tough. You’re out of comms range with most of the team, and if anything goes wrong it’s all on you. So that brings me to last night…”

His face darkens.

I’m about to get reprimanded for something. It’s no secret Ian doesn’t like me. Though it’s his brother, Vance, that chooses to be a total douche canoe with the locker-room talk. I think Ian would rather maintain some level of professionalism in his dislike.

 “Your report says that you took down the assailant by yourself,” Ian says. “Is that true?”

I shift in my chair. “I wouldn’t lie on a report.”

Akara’s concern has warped into full-on annoyance. Yeah, he doesn’t like that insinuation either.

“I’m just reconfirming, Frog.”

“Yes, it was all me,” I say, trying to hide the bite in my tone. “Quinn approached after I had Caleb on the ground.”

Ian nods a couple times. I can’t tell if he’s impressed or not. “Akara and I have been discussing Luna’s trajectory. Obviously, there’s no debate about the number of bodyguards she needs.” Two, obviously. “But the level of experience of those bodyguards is what we’re determining. It seems like you could be capable to be her primary—and all you might need is a little bit of manpower to help. Not that you needed it last night.”

Wow, I think that was a compliment.

I’m too stunned to even smile.

And in my head, I hear manpower and I think of Quinn. But Quinn is more than just muscles and brawn. He loves the ins-and-outs of security work like I do. The strategies and the decision-making. It’d be like clipping an eagle’s wings to reduce him to an obedient meat sack.

I hate even thinking about it.

Ian adds, “Not going to lie with you, Frog, we thought you would have quit six months ago.” After Luna’s attack. I don’t ask who we is. Obviously the guys on Epsilon haven’t thought I’m cut out for it.

“I want to be here,” I tell him.

“I see that,” Ian says. “And I think this trip has been a good test. If you can make it through the rest of it without issue, Akara and I will start talking about how to get you back where you need to be. Get Quinn back to where he needs to be.”

Wait…no…

My stomach curdles. I don’t like this anymore. In my head, Quinn and I are exactly where we need to be. Together. Quinn and Frog. That’s how it’s been for six months, and it’s been good. Great, even. But isn’t this what I wanted? For Ian and the rest of security to see me as a capable bodyguard worthy of being on her own. Isn’t this what’s better for Quinn? He loved protecting the one-year-old, Ripley Hale. It was a coveted position only meant for an extremely skilled bodyguard. Now left vacant in his wake since no one can live up to Ripley’s parents’ standards.

This was supposed to be temporary, Frog.

My head swims with uncontrollable thoughts. I just manage a simple head-nod—which doesn’t trigger Ian’s antennas, but my cousin narrows his eyes at me in confusion. I normally cannot hold in my reactions. Biting my tongue is a foreign concept.

And yet…

I don’t want to talk in fear that maybe I’ll just disappear Quinn from my life somehow.

Ian glances down to something on his desk. “We just need to go over some paperwork. You need to send us a medical assess—”

“I told Akara that I’m fine. I just have a couple bruises. No need to—”

“Non-negotiable." Ian cuts me off like I did him. "You went through a physical incident. We need an actual piece of paper from a medical professional saying you’re fit for work.”

Come on.

Akara gives me a look like told you so.

Yeah, yeah. My stomach roils. “Fine. I’ll go to the urgent care and show them my bruises and then I will bill you for my secondhand embarrassment.”

Ian almost…laughs? I swear I dream it. He says, “You’ll get a call from our legal team if this guy files charges.”

I stifle a groan. It’s so unfair that bodyguards get sued so much for just doing our jobs.

“I doubt he’ll file charges for assault,” Akara says and gives me a consoling look to not worry.

Ian adds, “But she should know the protocols, since this is her first time in this situation.”

“Agreed,” Akara says into a nod. “But we can also be realistic, so she’s not concerned about a potential lawsuit all week.”

Ian shakes his head. “If the worry of a lawsuit distracts her, she’s in the wrong job.”

Akara’s eyes darken protectively, and I know he shouldn’t be poking Ian even in a mini-debate. No matter how small the potatoes. He’s been trying to smooth over the friction between his company and Triple Shield, and I don’t want him to cause waves just because he’s trying to stick up for me.

“Lawsuits won’t distract me,” I say quickly. “Potential or realized. I have my head in the game.”

“Good,” Ian says, “So you’ll also do a psych eval when you return to New York. I’ll have our team set it up.”

I grimace. “Is that necessary? I took one already.”

“Six months ago,” Ian reminds me. “There’s no harm in getting a current one done.”

Yeah, no harm at all.

If I could pass the one after Luna was in a coma, I can surely pass the one after this small tussle. I’m just not certain that Ian would make the same demand for the other guys. He still doesn’t fully trust me, but I sense I’m making some progress on that front.

And look at that, I didn’t even have to lose my virginity to be seen as a competent adult. I should probably toss the stupid goal into the ocean and let it drown, but I just think of Quinn.

I’ve enjoyed his help on the virginity-vanquishing front. Ending it now feels as catastrophic as losing him as a co-bodyguard. What’s the harm in keeping the goal up? Maybe I’m not doing it to gain the respect from Epsilon anymore. Maybe I’m doing it more for me.

This might be the last few weeks I have left working with Quinn.

I’m more scared of a future where I’m not close to him anymore, where he’s not always around and I’m just…dating some random guy and swiping my V-card. It feels safer having Quinn present for this milestone. Like he should be around for this part of my life.

I can’t imagine him not at my side.

Thank you so much for reading Frog and Quinn's story! We have lots in store for these two and they should be sprinkled in between bonuses going forward. We had a lot of positive feedback on the "previously on" portion at the top of the bonus, so you can continue to see that for each new chapter. We're not the best at recapping -- but we try!

xoxo Krista & Becca

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MUSIC: We listened to "The Scythe" by The Last Dinner Party while writing this chapter.

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