29. Chapter 29
Chapter twenty-nine
Quinn
Quinn’s stomach did about a hundred-and-fifty back flips on the walk through the gate and back to his car. He opened the back door and gestured for Jake to open the other side, then leaned in. Jake followed suit and they were staring at each other, both bending over the seats. Somehow, an entire car between them was less distance than they’d had the last few days.
Quinn sighed. “You look tired.”
“Working late.”
Quinn nodded and started rummaging through the crap on his back floorboards. If they were going to sell Jake’s cover story, he needed to at least look busy. “I’m sorry I didn’t respond. It’s been…I’ve been dealing with some shit in my head.”
“It’s about Ozzy, I know.”
“No.” Quinn looked down at the seat as he continued. “It’s about me. And you. And how much I’m willing to open myself up to getting hurt when you leave. Because it’s going to hurt.” He turned his gaze back up, locked onto Jake. “I like you way too much for it not to hurt. So…distance.”
Jake didn’t say anything for a while. When he did speak, his voice was soft, barely carrying across the back seat of the car. “I never meant for you to get hurt.”
Of course he didn’t. Because he’s wonderful. “It’s not about meaning. For either of us. I never intended to hurt you, but I did. I took my frustration out on you. I gave you the silent treatment. And now I’m here delivering more bad news to you, then asking you to keep working on my house, please.” Quinn chewed on what he could say, if anything, to clear things up, make it make sense. But honestly, none of that mattered in the slightest. “I’m sorry. About everything. I think it’s really best if we keep things professional between us. And when I get drunk and maudlin, I’ll watch your old videos.” Like I have been the last three days, since I can’t get you out from under my skin.
Jake closed his eyes, then nodded. “You do what makes you comfortable. I told you this was all your speed, and I meant it.” He smiled wearily, and even though he had some pretty thick makeup on, he still looked tired. Out of it. “I do need to work together with you on one more thing.” He gestured toward the floorboards with his right hand. “I sort of handed you a plan to hide what we were doing, and I don’t know where to go from here.”
Quinn stuck his hand down into the mess and came back up with a pair of sunglasses. “Pretend these are yours and I found them.”
He tossed them and Jake caught them. “Works for me.” He stuck them on top of his head and started to straighten up, then brought his face back down, eyes level on Quinn. “I had a really nice time. For what we got.”
Quinn smiled, and for the first time in days, it rose up naturally.
“Are you two done making out yet?”
Ozzy’s voice. Jake jerked straight up, smashing the back of his head and doubling over, clutching his skull. Quinn slipped up and around the car to see Ozzy grinning wide from the open gate.
“Leave them alone, Oswald.” Evander marched into view as well, getting right up into Ozzy’s face. And his voice was raised. People would hear this.
Ozzy rounded on Evander as Quinn started on his way over to them, trying to reach the pair. He heard every word as he approached. “Take the stick out of your ass, Ev. It’s a joke.”
“Yeah, well maybe it’s not a joke to him. Maybe he’s going through some shit with his grandpa, and us all over his house, and this new relationship with Jake.”
He knows too. He knows. Oh god. He knows for sure.
Evander jabbed a finger into Ozzy’s chest. “So drop it, you fucking douchebag.”
“Oh, I’m the douchebag. Right.” Ozzy’s voice was louder now. Cameras had swung around. It had moved past this becoming too real. It was real, and he’d addressed it. His personal bullshit and his emotions were about to be laid bare without his consent. The thought of that chilled his blood.
“Shut the fuck up.” Jake marched up to them, left hand bloody on the back of his head, right hand clenched into a fist at his side. “Both of you. Ozzy, you’re an asshole. And Evander, what the actual hell is wrong with you? You swore up and down you wouldn’t say anything. I told you in confidence because you said we were friends, and now you’re just spouting off about it like none of that even mattered to you? Fuck!” He pulled his hand away and shook red droplets off onto the grass. “This is not the place for any of this.”
Quinn stopped and let his brain catch up, slow as it was to do so. “Wait. You told Evander? Private stuff like that and you just decided to tell someone else without talking to me? When I was obviously freaking out?” He could see his own reaction clearly enough to know that anyone should know he was in a panic. He’d been raw since this whole thing started.
Ozzy spilling the beans was one thing. But Jake? He stared and waited to hear that it wasn’t true.
“He told me in confidence.” Evander’s voice was a lot quieter when he spoke. Jake seemed frozen, blanched even through his makeup.
Quinn shook his head. “You…I…”
Evander started over, his eyes wide. “I really thought I was walking the line between keeping it close to the vest and still laying into Oswald—”
“Shut up, Ev.” Jake unfroze and started toward Quinn. “I thought I could trust him. He’s not…I needed some perspective from the outside to set my head straight.”
Other members of the team were coming out, and the work in the back yard had almost completely stopped. The cameras didn’t stop, though. Quinn squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold his shit together. He had to compress it down, keep it inside. People didn’t need to know about this. He and Jake had it worked out, but now that had fallen apart. Everything had fallen apart.
He withdrew and let the cold take him. Opened his eyes. Moved to his car. “Let them know I had to run.” He wasn’t even sure who he was talking to at that point, just covering for when Eliza and the production crew inevitably came looking for him. Then he climbed into the driver’s seat, buckled in, pulled out, and drove away. The world around him was pinpointed down to the road in front of him. Anything more than that, he’d lose it.
No more losing it. No more open emotion. No more getting hurt. The memory of Hunter’s note on the coffee table crept in and he bashed it down to where it belonged. Hidden. Private. Inside himself.
He’d learn the lesson this time. Closed off was safe. Open was too risky. And that kind of trust was too precious to allow into anyone’s hands again.