Chapter 18 #2
I freaked out, okay? Completely and utterly freaked out and didn’t know what to say at the time because the kiss was so dang good, and Quinn is just so pretty, and she makes me laugh, and I wanted to ask her to come into my place, and…
So yes, I panicked but wanted to show Quinn I wasn’t panicking, that I can handle something casual. Which I know, I can’t. But I’m not losing my friendship with her, so I will match her casualness, toe to toe.
Maybe this is good. We can ignore what happened. I’ll just chalk last night up to a life experience and replay the feeling of her mouth on mine when I need a little pick-me-up. “I think the placement is just fine,” I say, “but maybe only one more and save the rest for outside?”
“Cool.” She hops off the trailer and moves toward the other side of the barn. And something is so very wrong. I can tell.
Ugh. How do people have casual hookups? I think I’m envious. Do they not have these twists and turns in their gut, feel like someone is stealing the air from their lungs, not think about the person afterward?
“Getting the hayride set up, I see?” Such a dumb question. But what I want to say, I can’t.
“Yep. I want to do a sign like ‘Caution: owned and operated by the elves. Cannot be held responsible.’ Something that’s funny, but also if a kid falls off the back and breaks an arm, I won’t be sued.” She swipes rogue hay strips off her overalls.
“That’s smart. I think that sign should cover it.
” I can’t help it. My gaze falls to her mouth, and I want to do it again.
I want to rush into her arms and tell her how scared I am, but she unlocked a piece of me, and I’m ready to explore.
I bite on the corner of my lip. The kiss from last night lingers in the air like wet smoke, and I can’t breathe.
“I had so much fun last night,” I finally say. “I didn’t realize how much I needed a night out. It was… perfect. Everything was perfect.” There. I said as much as I can say, laid down as much as I can possibly lay down, and hold my breath for her reaction.
Quinn digs her boots into a rock before she takes a deep breath and looks at me.
“I am so sorry about last night. The kiss and everything. Like, holy shit, that is not me.” She stuffs her hands in her pockets and balances on her heels.
“Actually, it is me. My MO, and it really wasn’t cool to do to you. ”
Wait, what? “I don’t know what you mean.
I’m not mad that it happened. I just… I’m in a weird place with everything…
” I tug on the corner of my lip. This is so hard.
Yes, I have feelings for Quinn, but also, I’m terrified.
The ghost of my past relationship is still there, hovering.
And I haven’t had this sinking sensation that’s so wonderful and scary in so many years.
Quinn flops on the stack of hay and tugs on a straw. She doesn’t speak for so long that I think the conversation is over. Through the ray of light beaming through the trees, she squints at me with a flash of regret.
Regret. Oh no. Regret is not good.
“I’m so grateful for our friendship, Zoey,” she starts, bowing a strand of straw in her fingers.
“Everything you’ve done out here this month and the time we’ve spent together means so much to me.
I haven’t told you this, but I’ve never had a friend before.
Like a real one. I know that sounds pretty pathetic, but it’s true.
Not like this, not like what I have with you.
And I’m scared I royally screwed it up.” She crisscrosses her legs.
“If I somehow gave you the wrong impression last night, will you please just forgive me? I wasn’t thinking and I really acted out in the moment.
I wouldn’t want to do anything that would hurt us. ”
Everything Quinn is saying is kind, and I’m hearing her, but the back of my eyes sting, hot with unshed tears.
“Why, um.” I swallow, heat filling my cheeks.
“Why do you think it would hurt us?” This is me, putting myself out there as much as I can.
Dipping my toes into barely frozen water, checking to see how much the ice will crack and splinter around me.
Maybe we can take a chance. Maybe this is something that could work.
But if it doesn’t, then this friendship, which means a lot to me, is ruined.
But I cannot do one-night stands. Intimacy and sex are as intertwined as the roots on the cedar tree I’m staring at, and I need to be in sync like this with someone I sleep with.
Quinn pops her elbows on her knees and leans her chin into her fists.
“Zoey, you are, like, too good for this world. And… I’m not.
I’ve grown a lot this last year, but I’m not there yet.
And this isn’t about my job or other things.
This is me, who I am as a person with relationships, with everything.
” Quinn’s exhale is long and shaky. “I have sex, you know? I fuck and that’s it.
That’s all it ever is. And I’m so sorry, that probably sounds crude to you, but I need you to know who I am, so none of this, us, is romanticized, okay?
I really, really care about you too much to let my need to get laid mess with what we have building here. ”
My breath catches in my throat, and I try to grasp at nonexistent air.
She is delivering the message as kind as she can, but it still hurts.
Quinn bravely just drew a boundary line, even though I can tell it’s tearing her up.
The last thing I want to do is to make her feel bad about herself, just because we have different views.
So I rush to her, drop to my knees, and pull Quinn in for a hug. A deep hug, full from my soul, and she presses against me, gripping me, relaxing against me. “Thank you so much for being so honest with me.” I hate that my voice verges on cracking. “I’m so happy we’re friends.”
This is what I say. And it’s not untrue. But a minute later, I excuse myself to use the bathroom, and cry into my hands.