Chapter 29 #2
“Where are you going after this?” August asked, moulding himself to Quinn’s back, smirking at how well they fit together. Quinn was the perfect height for August to rest his chin on his head in this position, which he did so he could bury his face into Quinn’s damp, brown hair.
“Fridays, I meet my nieces at the rink for their hockey lessons,” said Quinn. “Eren has an interview with the broadcasting station, so he asked me to take them.”
August liked kids, and he liked hockey—and he also liked Quinn. It sounded like a good way to spend his afternoon and kill time before the team dinner later that night.
They were facing Toronto again the following Saturday night, so Coach was adamant that everyone had to show up and create a special team bonding moment before they had to play against Jett.
“Things have been weird between us lately,” August began. “And I think I already know your answer, but could I come with you? Niko and Haas are taking over my living room today, and I’m not in the mood for video games.”
Quinn stiffened in his arms, and August flinched.
He didn’t know how, but he had a feeling he had somehow fucked things up between them in Toronto.
But how was he supposed to fix it? He didn’t know if Quinn would talk to him if he confronted him, and there was always a chance that talking could push him away.
The silence dragged on far too long for August’s liking before Quinn sighed and slowly turned in his arms, staring up at him with warm, green eyes.
“How has your head been lately? Any nosebleeds?” Quinn touched a hand to August’s face, his thumb brushing over his bottom lip.
“The migraines have stopped,” said August. “And I only get nosebleeds when you do something too sexy for me to handle.”
He got the satisfaction of seeing Quinn’s cheeks darken before the implications of the questions came crashing down on his head with the force of an anvil.
If he didn’t know any better, it sounded like Quinn was checking to see if August still needed him. And physical symptoms aside—yes, August still fucking needed him. The need was so strong it was starting to become a problem, and he didn’t know what he would do if Quinn ended things now.
August didn’t want Quinn to leave. Watching him walk out the door was his least favourite part of the day, and if it were up to him, Quinn would be staying by his side, living in his house, hanging pictures on his walls because—
Fuck—he loved him. August didn’t know if he had ever stopped loving him.
If he hadn’t forgotten about everything, if his mind hadn’t shattered the night his father died, August knew that he and Quinn would be together.
Why else would he have bought a historical home, filled it with antique décor like Quinn had talked about, and never found a relationship that made him happy?
Thinking about the people he had slept with and dated gave him chills. August had never been satisfied with any of them and could never grasp why he always felt so disgusted with himself when he got into a relationship.
But that didn’t happen with Quinn. Not even when he accepted the terms of their friends-with-benefits pact, knowing how much it would bother him.
“Oh, jeez,” said Quinn, cupping August’s face in both of his hands. “Why do you look so heartbroken? Do you really want to come and watch two children slip on the ice for an hour that badly?”
August tried to speak, but his words died in a croak before he could get the first sentence out. He was going to end up giving himself a nosebleed at this rate, or a goddamn heart attack.
“Look—” Quinn pushed him backward, directing August to the edge of the bed before he pushed him to sit. “You’re very naked right now and covered in teeth marks and bruises thanks to me, so I’m mildly distracted here.”
August managed a weak smirk, but his pulse was racing so fast that his hands were beginning to shake. He didn’t know what Quinn was about to say, and he was ninety percent sure he was having a panic attack, but there was nowhere for him to run and avoid the conversation.
“I’ve been distant,” Quinn admitted. “I suck at conflict resolution, and that’s been the vibe in my head for like, the past three weeks now. Your hints of wanting a relationship haven’t been subtle, and I’ve been spiralling about it because it’s what I do best.”
August swallowed to wet his dry throat and braced for the but.
“But, I haven’t been pushing you away because I’m saying…
no.” Quinn tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and sighed.
“I really don’t have spare time for dates because my university classes are finishing at the end of next month, and if I want to graduate this summer, I need to finish my complicated thesis and attend a ton of mandatory lectures. ”
The vice that had been crushing August’s lungs loosened just enough to let him breathe. Quinn wasn’t saying no—he wasn’t saying no.
“I haven’t turned you into a pretty little present recently,” Quinn said, gripping August’s jaw and holding him in place, effortlessly asserting his dominance.
“Because I’ve been painting whenever I’m not with you or caring for my nieces, so my hands have been cramping too much for me to enjoy our sessions. ”
The hazy feeling was back, shoving away the remnants of the anxiety that was left. August didn’t know what kind of power Quinn Harlow held over his soul, but he had no problem giving him control whenever he wanted. All he had to do was ask.
“You’re panicking because you think I don’t want this,” said Quinn.
“But the truth is, part of me does, and that part gets louder every single day we’re together.
I just need you to hear me when I say that it’s going to take time to give in to the part that wants you.
Not because I hate the idea of us, but because I have trust issues, okay? ”
Quinn paused and waited patiently for August to nod in reply, and once he had his confirmation, he bent to kiss August on the forehead.
“Stop working yourself up over nonexistent problems, August.” Quinn kissed him again, and when August smiled, this time it was real.
“I’m only seeing you right now,” said Quinn. “I have zero interest in other guys, so you don’t need to frantically pace around me while waiting for an answer. Dating me in high school should have given you a clear glimpse into how neurotic and stubborn I am.”
The vice tightened again, and August held his breath until Quinn let go and put distance between them.
He needed to tell him. Quinn deserved to know that August couldn’t remember those things, and that those parts of their relationship were still foggy in his mind.
Sure, he could guess and say he knew Quinn’s personality from the bits and pieces he had reclaimed, but doing so would make him feel like a liar.
August needed time, and Quinn wasn’t budging, which meant he still had a chance to glue his fractured mind back into one piece before any big decisions were reached.
“Are you going to get dressed?” Quinn asked, nudging August’s foot with his toe. “I’m going to be late if I don’t leave soon, so if you want to come—”
“Yes.” August stood abruptly, startling Quinn into taking several steps away. “Give me two minutes. I’ll throw on clothes and meet you in your car.”
Quinn smirked, his keen eyes gleaming as he stood and watched August’s mad scramble around the room until he turned and left.
True to his word, August was right behind him, nearly missing the bottom step in his haste to get the hell out of the house before Quinn could ditch him. He caught sight of Niko and Haas in the living room through the arched entryway and tossed them a wave, not slowing down long enough to explain.
Niko’s laughter chased him out the front door, but August shrugged it off. Nothing could bother him—not when he was about to spend the day with Quinn.
The car Quinn was driving felt too small to contain all of August’s long limbs, but he didn’t complain, not even after he’d bumped his head getting in or jammed his knee under the dash.
“I guess you were kind of lifeless the last time you got a drive with me, so it helped you fit better,” said Quinn. “Which is why I don’t understand your choice to drive a sports car. You seem like a guy who needs truck space.”
August cringed just thinking about it. “There is nothing sexy about a truck, and I will die on that hill.”
“There’s also nothing sexy about a car that can’t make it over a speedbump.” Quinn patted his steering wheel and cooed at his car. “Isn’t that right, Sybil?”
A Honda Civic named Sybil. That was…
“Fuck, you’re such a dork,” said August. Though he loved how dorky Quinn was. It felt familiar in a way he was sure wasn’t coincidental, but he wished he could remember why.
“I never claimed that I matured over the years,” was Quinn’s retort. “You’re a lot less arrogant than you used to be, so that’s a positive change in my books.”
A memory was circling the edge of his mind, revealing flashes of a past that August yearned to connect with.
Images of Quinn with dyed black hair and an overload of eyeliner, glaring up at August’s high school captain like he wanted to fight him.
August’s laughter as he joined in with whatever rude, homophobic comment was being passed between his teammates, and the hatred in Quinn’s eyes as they locked onto August.
He never initiated the bullying, August remembered that, but he didn’t stick up for Quinn either. It was always Esme who shoved into the fights and scared Quinn’s attackers away, and it was Esme who…
She had confronted August—verbally dressing him down in front of his peers because he was the biggest and scariest target. It had been so effective that August found the twins later that same day and apologized for his lack of action, promising to keep his teammates away from Quinn.