Chapter 12 Who Was This Girl #2
“Couple of miles past his place. Big bonfire. Too many cars. You can’t miss it.”
What the hell had she been thinking taking my little sister and Sawyer to this party?
“Keep your phone on. I’ll be there as soon as I can. And for Christ’s sake, don’t drink anything else.”
I hang up and glance at the pretty woman, who’s sitting back with her arms crossed.
“Sorry,” I say, slipping into my shoes before she can even blink, “I’ve gotta go.”
“But Tripp—”
“My sister needs a ride from some party.” I’m already digging for my keys.
“That wasn’t Allie on the phone,” she accuses.
“No. Quinn.” I don’t bother softening my voice. “Gotta go before they get into any more trouble.”
“Alright,” she says, resigned. “Call me.”
I nod and then I’m out the door.
It doesn’t take me long to find the party. There are cars parked in the ditch and along the side of the road for half a mile, and the flame from the bonfire glows and flickers in the dark.
I pull out my phone and call Quinn. It rings and rings, but she doesn’t answer. I grumble and climb out of the truck, slamming my door a little harder than necessary.
I stalk toward the fire, searching the crowd of teenagers for Quinn or my sister. Red solo cups litter the ground, plastic crunching under my boots.
“Tripp!” A voice calls out, but it’s Jessica—one grade younger than me at school.
“Hey, have you seen Quinn, or Allie, or Sawyer?”
Her eyes narrow, like she’s disappointed I didn’t come to party. High school parties feel beneath me. Only losers hang around after graduation.
“Uh, I think I saw Porter talking to Quinn,” she says, gesturing vaguely to her right where the bonfire burns bright. “And Sawyer was wiping the floor with everyone at beer pong.”
“Thanks.” I veer off in that direction.
I make my way toward the bonfire and stop abruptly when I spot her. Porter’s draped over Quinn, mouth too close to her ear. Heat spikes through my chest and a wave of annoyance crashes over me.
“Quinn!” I call out, and she startles, wide blue eyes finding mine.
She peels away from Porter, blinking like she’s not sure which of me to walk toward. My chest loosens infinitesimally.
“You look mad.” She wobbles closer. “Don’t be mad—I’m fine. Mostly.”
She stumbles, and Porter steadies her with a hand on her arm.
“Woah, watch your step, baby,” he says with an obnoxious grin.
Something rumbles in my chest, protective and possessive. I step closer and pry his fingers from her arm. “I’ve got her,” I grumble.
“Alright. Just didn’t want her to fall.” Porter lifts both hands like he knows I’d like to strangle him.
“Let’s go find my sister and Sawyer.”
Quinn nods and leads me to a table. Sawyer’s got the entire football team smashed with her beer-pong prowess. These idiots should know not to play against her.
“Party’s over, Sawyer,” I say, scowling.
She whirls on me, pinning me with a lethal glare. “I was about to put this asshole in his place.”
“You’ll have to do that another day. I’m taking you home.”
“Since when don’t you let me have fun?” she grumbles. “You graduated, and now you’re boring as hell. I told Quinn I could drive.”
“You don’t have a driver’s license, Sawyer.”
“So?”
“So, it’s illegal,” I point out.
“It was illegal when you did it too. Didn’t stop you.”
“Damn it, just get in my truck. I've gotta find my sister.”
“She wandered off with Chase, like, fifteen minutes ago. That way.” She waves toward the field, giving me another direction to aim my search.
“This is like herding fucking cats,” I mutter, stalking into the tall corn while the other two girls go to my truck.
If I catch my little sister hooking up with someone in a cornfield, I’m going to lose my shit.
Chase fucking Christiansen. Of course. That guy’s hands are all over her. Thank Christ she’s still dressed.
“Get your fucking hands off my sister, douchebag,” I growl.
Chase jumps back, eyes wide. “Fuck. Relax. I didn’t do anything.”
“Triiiipp,” Allie whines.
“If you don’t want me to tell Mom and Dad where I found you, go get in the truck, Allie.”
“Like you didn’t go to a million of these parties in high school.”
“Doesn’t mean it was smart. Now go,” I growl.
“Aren’t you coming?”
“Gonna have a little chat with Chase first. I’ll be there in a second.”
She groans, stomping off like a kid told she has to eat her broccoli before she gets dessert.
I skewer Chase with a glare, and he backs up a little. “Hey, man, don’t freak out—we were just having some fun.”
“Don’t.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t have fun with my sister. I don’t like you.”
He snorts as if I’m joking, but I’m not. I can sniff out this guy’s bullshit from a mile away.
“I mean it. Keep your hands off her, or you’ll regret it.”
I step a little closer, and he cowers. I give him a menacing smile and pat his cheek. “Good boy.”
Then I stalk off to my truck to yell at my little sister and her friends for being idiots.
The second I get in, Allie bursts into tears. “You’re so embarrassing.”
I roll my eyes. She’s always been the emotional one in my family—not steady like my mom, not gentle like my dad. Her emotions are always loud, messy, overwhelming.
“Now Chase is never going to talk to me again.”
“I’m just keeping you out of trouble, Allie.”
“You won’t really tell your mom and dad, will you?” Quinn asks softly. Guess Allie told her what I said out in the cornfield.
I shrug. “I should. It would be the responsible thing—to make sure you three learned your lesson.”
Sawyer snorts in the back seat next to Allie. “That’ll be the day.”
I huff an aggravated breath. “I can’t believe you brought them out here,” I say, turning my glare to Quinn.
“I just thought—“
“No, you didn’t think. If the cops had shown up, it could’ve ruined your chances of getting into the college you want. You realize that, don't you? The whole future you've worked for could have gone up in smoke.”
She drops her eyes to her lap, red creeping into her cheeks. She doesn’t answer me, but I see a lone tear glistening on her cheek.
God damn it. I’m on a fucking roll tonight. If I can get Sawyer to cry, I’d have the fucking hat trick.
I glance in my rear view mirror. “I’m taking you two back home first,” I say.
I get a mumbled “fine” from Allie and a sharp “whatever” from Sawyer.
Once the other two are back home, I pull up to Dawson Ranch and kill the engine. Quinn reaches for the door handle, but I wrap my fingers gently around her wrist. She stills, gaze fixed on the white farmhouse with its black shutters, a shadow painted against the summer night.
“When you’re in my truck, I get the door.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows, and I walk around the truck to get her door.
When she climbs out, I steady her with a hand at her hip, ignoring the way her denim skirt hikes a little higher on her thighs.
Her eyes flick toward the empty spot where her car should be. “Shit, I forgot about my car.”
“Don’t worry about it, Quinnie. I’ll grab a friend and we’ll get it back here before Pops is up in the morning. Just give me your keys.”
She digs them out of her purse and slides them into my hand, our fingers brushing.
When I slide them into my pocket, her shoulders sag, relief and shame written all over her. Another tear slips free. “Thanks for saving me tonight.”
I arch a brow. “Sawyer didn’t seem to think you needed saving.”
She leans against the truck, swiping at a stray tear. I want to wipe those tears for her, but I shouldn’t.
“Hey,” I murmur, softer now. “Don’t cry, Quinnie. I’m sorry if I came down on you too hard earlier.”
She sniffles, and it pulls at my heartstrings, urging me closer to her.
“You were right, though,” she admits. “I could’ve ruined everything. I shouldn’t have let them talk me into it. It was stupid.”
Her face crumples, and I can’t take it anymore. She’s always so hard on herself. I palm the back of her neck and crush her to my chest, burying my nose in her hair.
She smells like bonfire smoke, stale beer, and—underneath it all—the faint floral scent of her shampoo.
“Everybody fucks up sometimes. It’s alright.”
She melts into me. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles, voice muffled in my shirt. “For ruining your night.”
“Hey, stop.” I press a kiss to the top of her head before I can think better of it. “I’ve got plenty of nights ahead. I just can’t take the sight of you crying anymore.”
She swipes at her face with the back of her hand. “You didn’t seem that upset about making Allie cry.”
“That’s different.” A smile pulls at my mouth. “She’s my sister. I’ve been making her cry her whole life.”
I can still hear the tears in Quinn's responding laugh, and I hold her tighter for a fleeting moment before letting her go. Cold replaces her warmth immediately, and I try not to wish I could keep her in my arms longer.
“You’re not gonna tell Pops about all this, are you?” she asks, eyes pleading.
I shake my head. I should. Technically, I’m an adult now, and it’d be the responsible thing. But I’ve never been good at being responsible.
She holds up her pinky. “Promise?”
My lips curl into a smile as I hook my pinky with hers. “I promise.”
I grab the water bottle I’d stashed earlier and press it into her hand. “Drink all of this, and take some aspirin. I don’t need you hungover tomorrow. If Pops finds out I knew you’d been drinking and didn’t say anything, I’m dead.”
She nods, clutching the water bottle like it’s a lifeline. I wait until she disappears inside before I finally head back to my truck, wishing like hell I didn’t miss how she’d melted into my arms when I’d hugged her.