THIRTY-THREE Quincy
I wake up with my heart in my throat and Sebastian’s face buried in my hair. Strong arms wrap around me. A warm kiss is pressed to my bare shoulder.
“Hey,” he slurs, still on the edge of unconsciousness. His grip on me tightens. I spin in his arms so I can look at him. “How’d you sleep?”
“You’re like a weighted blanket, Dunn.”
“Comes in handy when it’s twelve degrees outside and my furnace stops working.”
“If that’s what happens in New York, I will not be visiting.” I stifle a yawn and run a hand across his chest. My nails scratch over his tattoo, and he shivers under my touch. “I’m a Florida girl. I’d rather do long division than figure out how to work a furnace.”
“Given we’re in the twenty-first century, not America in the seventeen hundreds, pressing the button to turn the heat on is all it takes. I’ll teach you.”
“I’m going to miss you,” I whisper, the reality of the day settling in. Thousands of miles between us. Two different lives. “Very much.”
He moves his hand to my cheek, cupping my face with his palm. “I’m going to miss you more.”
“It’s not a competition.”
“With us, it’s always been a competition, Pres.”
“Hey.” I sit up. “You’re leaving today. I think your goodbye gift should be telling me what the hell that nickname means.”
“God.” His laugh ghosts across my skin when he drops his head in the crook of my neck. “It’s so stupid. You’re going to be unimpressed with me when I tell you.”
“I’m constantly unimpressed with you,” I tease.
“Yeah?” Sebastian moves quick. He flips our positions, holding himself above me. He rocks forward and I feel him between my legs, hard, warm, and my eyes flutter closed. “That’s not what you said last night. I distinctly remember hearing something about more and best I ever had.”
“Inadmissible. What I say in the middle of an orgasm can’t be used against me.” I loop an arm around his neck, playing with the links on his necklace. “Truth or Dare, Sebastian Dunn?”
“Dare, Quinny baby.”
“I dare you to tell me your secret. Please?”
“Fine.” He leans in close, mouth at my ear. He kisses my jaw. Dips lower to kiss the line of my throat before whispering, “It’s short for president.”
“President?”
“Yup. Quincy. Monroe. John Quincy Adams. James Monroe. It was the first thing that came to mind when I heard your name. It worked originally, because I thought you were a guy. But then you walked into the classroom. I saw who you really were with your dark hair and big brown eyes. Long legs and a skirt that drove me fucking bonkers, and I lost all train of thought. Couldn’t remember my own name.
I blurted it out because it was an opportunity to talk to you.
Plus.” He drags his tongue up my neck. “It got you so fired up, and seeing you mad as hell is the sexiest fucking thing.”
“That is …” I reach for a pillow and hit him square in the face. “So cheesy and so stupid. I was expecting some elaborate story. Maybe something cute. Not because I was named after the presidents.”
“Are you really named after the founding fathers?”
“Unfortunately. My dad used to teach History of Early America. I could recite all the presidents in order by the time I was four.”
“Wow.” Sebastian grins down at me. I’m tempted to grab my phone and take a picture of him so I never forget how beautiful he is in the morning light.
Sunbeams haloing his head. Swollen lips and a red mark on his neck from where I paid careful attention to it last night.
“I’m going to start slipping presidential nicknames into our conversations. ”
“If you call me Tricky Dicky, I’m going to be pissed.”
“Now it has to go on the list.” He laughs and rolls off me, burrowing himself in the pillows beside me. “I need to start getting ready. My flight is at three, but I need to swing by and say goodbye to the guys.”
“I’m so selfish. You’re spending your last hours with me when there are dozens of other people who want to see you before you go.”
“It’s a good thing I’m an adult and can make my own choices.” Sebastian pauses. “I want to make this work, Quincy. You and me. It’s not going to be easy, but I want to try.”
“Are you sure? You’re in New York. The city that never sleeps with some of the most beautiful people on earth. You’re going to forget all about me in a couple weeks.”
“Impossible.”
“Why is that impossible? I won’t be there. We might only talk once a day. Sometimes less than that.”
“I’ve been thinking about you for a while.”
“You mean since the day we first kissed?”
“No.” He shakes his head. Runs his palm down my stomach and fans his fingers out over my hip. “Way longer than that.”
“When?”
“Junior year of high school when you wore baggy jeans and a graphic T-shirt.” His touch moves lower, to the waistband of my underwear.
“In college, when you wore a yellow sundress to Dynamics of the Atmosphere and it drove me out of my mind.” His knuckles brush against my entrance, the touch making my back arch.
“Two nights ago, when you were out with the girls. I fucked my fist and imagined you were with me.”
My breath catches when he pulls my underwear to the side and slides a finger inside me. It’s lazy, slow. The last bit of daylight before the sun dips below the horizon. Unhurried, like we have all the time in the world.
I wish we did.
My vision turns hazy when he adds a second finger, the stretch delirious and perfect.
“You’re lying.” My voice is a whisper. Something from somewhere beyond, because he’s curling his fingers. Hitting the spot no one else has ever reached and pressing open-mouthed kisses to my throat.
There’s that word again. Achingly obvious. Painfully loud.
Love.
Love, love, undeniable love.
“I’d never lie to you,” Sebastian whispers.
He grinds against my thigh, and the sensations are too much. Too overwhelming, and I love him.
I love him so much, and I don’t know what I’m going to do without him.
I’d never ask him to stay. He’s figuring things out. Finding what makes him happy, and I’d never want to stand in his way.
But god is it going to hurt like hell if that happiness doesn’t include me.
“Sebastian.” I close my eyes and hide my spreading blush in his chest. It’s easier than looking at him. Pressure builds in my stomach, the cusp of ecstasy within reach. “I—”
“I know,” he answers, the weight of the unspoken words sitting heavy between us. “Me, too, sweetheart.”
We stay there after we finish, tangled in the sheets for longer than we should.
When it’s finally time to say goodbye, fighting back tears is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
“Let me know when you land,” I say, leaning against my doorframe.
“What are you doing the rest of the day?”
Anything to keep my mind off you.
“There’s a possibility for some rotation in the afternoon storms just south of here. I may head that way and see what I can find.” I shrug. “If your flight cancels because of weather, let me know.”
“Wouldn’t that be ironic?” Sebastian rests his forehead against mine. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Be good, Dunn.”
“I’m thinking about you, Quinny baby.” He kisses me, hesitant to pull away. “I’m always good.”
With a squeeze of my hip and the flash of a grin, he walks down my driveway. He hops in his SUV, and there’s a moment where I think he’s going to stay. But then he’s starting the engine. Backing up and heading down the road, and I’m entirely alone.
I drive to Kissimmee in silence. The rain falling on the windshield matches my mood, and I take a deep breath before I climb out of my car and set up my tripod.
I fix my hat and ponytail, the camera counting down as my live broadcast starts, four thousand viewers joining in and seeing the backdrop of menacing clouds.
“Hi, chasers. Welcome to The Rainy Day Show where we’re taking another field trip today. My luck with tornadoes has been at both ends of the spectrum this summer, and I’m hoping today is on the calmer side.”
I pause for a beat, noting the shift in wind and the direction the clouds are moving.
“The chances for rotation are on the lower end, and I expect we’ll see some funnel cloud activity, but no touchdowns.
The atmosphere doesn’t feel conducive to it this afternoon, but that’s okay.
A viewer sent in a cool photo from Daytona Beach yesterday where they spotted a waterspout, and it warms my heart that y’all see weather phenomena and think of me.
My inbox is always flooded with questions from you, so let’s get into it before these storms start rolling in. ”
I lean forward and scroll through the comments coming in, searching for something to answer. Half of them don’t make any sense to me, messages like omg is it happening?! and plz this is so cute I’m going to CRY!!! inundating the screen.
I finally find one from a user named PocketFullOfSunshine89 that catches my eye.
What’s your favorite weather phenomenon? Or one you haven’t seen yet but want to?
“Great question, PocketFullOfSunshine. I think it’s pretty obvious my favorite weather phenomena are hurricanes.
I’ve studied them the longest, I’ve written dozens of papers on them, and while I don’t pretend to understand the inner workings of tropical cyclones they …
it’s like they speak to me in a way. As for a phenomenon I haven’t seen yet, I have three: thunder snow, which is hard to make happen in a state where the annual average temperature is seventy degrees.
A bomb cyclone, which shares some similarities to a hurricane.
And, last but certainly not least, a haboob, purely because it’s fun to say.
” I laugh and pull my hood over my head as the raindrops turn heavy.
“No, it’s not a sex term, get your head out of the gutter, folks.
It’s a dust storm carried by the wind of a thunderstorm, and the photos look absolutely terrifying. ”
PocketFullOfSunshine89: Good picks. Here’s another one for you: Which weather phenomenon is the most like falling in love?