22. Quinn
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
quinn
“ Quinn ,” Johanna hisses. “ Slow down.”
I don’t look back as I drag my friend down the hallway, through the kitchen, and into the pantry. When I’m sure the coast is clear, I shove her inside and corner her up against the tinned foods and spices Claire has stacked in here.
Tonight we’re having a chilled-out dinner at the Sadler household. Though , I’m anything but chill.
“ Isuckedmyfakeboyfriend’sdick .”
Jo has a slice of pizza halfway in her mouth and almost chokes on her bite when I rush out those words in one long jumble. She slaps a hand to her chest, coughing and spluttering.
“ Sorry . Did you say you sucked your fake boyfriend’s dick?” she asks with watery eyes.
“ Yes .”
“ Just so we’re clear”—she tilts her head and smirks—“you mean Graham , right?”
“ Shhh !” I flap my hands in front of her face. “ Don’t say his name, he might hear you. What should I do?”
“ Firstly , I think you explain how you ended up with his penis in your mouth.”
“ Stop smiling like that.” I stomp my foot like a toddler.
Tonight’s dinner conveniently falls the day after Graham and I gave in to the feelings and tension between us. Claire didn’t feel like cooking tonight and ordered in pizzas instead. Every time I looked up from my plate, I couldn’t stop squirming in my seat when I found Graham’s heated stare on me. I tried to play it cool, but I’m certain everyone around that table knew what we had done. Hot Night of Oral was stamped across my forehead.
I’d woken in the middle of the night, a little sad not to find him in bed next to me. Apart from sharing one of the hottest nights of my life with him, we hadn’t talked about what it all meant. We had both slept in late and apart from a brief “ Good morning” as we hurried to get ready for work, we didn’t have the chance. But we would the second we get back to the apartment later. I’d be sure of it.
“ Okay , let’s just pause for a second. What led to… you know .”
I throw my hands up in the air like it’s obvious. “ He gave me yellow rain boots.”
She grimaces. “ Is that a euphemism for something kinky?”
“ No , you fruit loop. He literally got me boots after I told him some sob story from my childhood. Then he took me to the secret trail where he had a picnic set up for us. Oh , but it doesn’t end there, he just had to throw in the best orgasm of my entire life. Ugh , Jo , he’s just…”
“ Just what?” She leans in closer, eagerness lighting up her face.
“ He’s amazing. And this is meant to be fake, but what the heck am I supposed to do when I like my ‘fake’ boyfriend?”
“ I don’t think I’m qualified to help you here. Booth and Lottie are usually the type to meddle in people’s relationships.” She must catch the pleading look on my face. “ Oh jeez, okay, well, have you guys spoken about it?”
“ No .”
“ Of course not. Well , let’s start there. You honestly think he doesn’t feel the same? The poor guy looks at you like you hold his universe in your hands.” She pins me with a pointed stare.
There’s no denying the looks we share. One glimpse and the air between us suddenly becomes combustible. A single touch would be the naked flame that ignites it all.
“ How am I sup?—”
“ I think Uncle Gray loves Just - Quinn . Like a lot. Like Daddy loves you, JoJo ,” a small voice chirps behind us. Completely oblivious to the fact this is a private conversation.
“ Oh crap, I forgot she has sonic hearing,” Jo whispers, before shooting Lottie a smile over my shoulder. “ Hey , Lottie . Whatcha doing?”
“ You said my name,” she replies with a shrug and grabs a packet of Goldfish . “ Uncle Gray asked where Quinn was. Found her.” She points at me and smiles sweetly, but I know not to be tricked by her cuteness.
Lottie slips her hand into mine and starts tugging me out of the pantry. I turn to Jo with panicked eyes and mouth, Help .
She chuckles and wiggles her fingers at me. “ Take it from me. Talk to one another.”
Lottie is oddly strong for a five-year-old. She drags me back into the hallway just as Dex steps out of the den and nearly collides with us. He’s quick despite his hulking frame and he throws Lottie up and over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“ Caught ya, you little raccoon,” he growls and tickles her sides. “ Have you been stealing snacks again?”
“ No ! No !” she squeals and tries to wiggle out of his hold. The crinkling coming from the inside of her pocket says otherwise.
“ Hmm . Has she been misbehaving?” he asks me and ignores Lottie crawling all over his shoulders and head like a baby koala. “ Also , I forgot to ask during dinner, do you have a table at the Fall Fair ? I’m building some new stands for Our Place . I can throw you some together too.”
I make sure he can see my lips after Graham explained Dex is partially hearing impaired.
“ Oh , no. I couldn’t get a slot. Maybe next year,” I lie, not wanting to reveal that I couldn’t afford it.
“ That sucks, but it means you get to experience your first time as an attendee. You’ll enjoy it.” He offers me a kind smile.
“ I hadn’t even thought about attending. I’m just going to work.”
Just then, a hand glides across my lower back, and I turn to find Graham gazing down at me.
“ We’re going to the fair,” he declares, and I’m too caught up in his sudden appearance to argue with him.
“ Lottie , let’s leave these two before they start k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” Dex drawls and backs away with a wink.
She mouths the letters silently to herself before giggling. “ Gross !”
Their laughter disappears around the corner, leaving us alone.
“ Does everyone under this roof like to interfere in one another’s lives?” I ask.
“ Yeah , I think it’s hereditary. Dex has just been hanging around us all for too long.” He drops his hand as I turn to face him, and I immediately miss his touch.“ You good?”
“ Stuffed full of pizza, but I had a great time. Evenings here are always fun.”
“ It’s pretty rare we’re all available but we make time. Are you ready to head out?”
“ Yep .” My voice oozes confidence despite the giddy nerves I’m feeling at the idea of being properly alone with him again. Mostly because I want to jump his bones .
The car ride home buzzes with tension. The small space between us crackles and pops, but neither of us makes a move.
Twenty minutes later, we’re walking up the stairs to the apartment, armed with leftover pizza, when my phone vibrates in my back pocket. I’m so worked up I forget to check the caller ID before answering. “ Hello ?”
“ A bakery?!” a hoarse, haunting voice barks through the speaker. It’s not the volume but the realization of who is behind it that has me flinching. “ I see you’re still a greedy bitch. Things never change.”
My entire body seizes up, leaving my left leg suspended above the second-to-last step on the stairs.
I was never supposed to hear that voice again.
Her texts and calls have become less frequent and a na?ve part of me thought she was finally done.
Graham notices my pause and turns to face me as he reaches the top. Whatever expression is written across my face has his falling, and he’s by my side in an instance.
My lips part and I try to get my voice to work, but it’s broken. She’s sucked it up, along with all my joy.
“ Are you there? How’s fucking Maine ? Just because you’re halfway across the country, owning some fancy business doesn’t make you better than me. You’re still trash, Quinn . Fat trash. You’ll fail at it like everything else.”
He’s close enough to hear her raspy voice now. Dread and mortification crash through me like a flash flood. I don’t want him to believe her words. To see me as trash. I’m not. Not anymore.
No . I never was.
This is what she’s always done. Laced my brain with a sense of worthlessness. Each word hollowing me out until all that’s left is a husk of shame.
“ Don’t fucking ignore me. I know you’re there. You owe me. Owe me for ruining my life.”
Graham’s nostrils flare and from the raw anger burning off him, he’s heard every word.
“ You’re a worthless piece of shi?—”
Before I even know what’s happening the cell is ripped from my hands and Graham’s deep voice fills the stairwell. “ If this is who I think it is, you will never call this number again. You will never speak to her again. You are the unworthy one. You don’t deserve to speak her name, let alone think about it. She is done with you, and I am done with this call.”
I can hear the beginnings of a shriek before it’s cut off when he stabs at the End Call button with his thumb forcefully.
In the space of sixty seconds, Graham has said to my mom what I haven’t been able to say for twenty-six years.
We stand there motionless as the aftermath of what’s just happened takes root. There are too many emotions whirring through me to sort them out and understand what I’m feeling, but he still simmers with rage.
With a gentle grip on my hand, he pulls me up the last two steps and then shifts me to stand in front of him so he can direct us toward the door of his apartment. I’m pressed against the wood when he crowds me with his huge frame while unlocking the door, and once the snick of the lock sounds, he’s pushing it open and ushering me inside.
The sound of the door closing hasn’t even reached my ears before he’s spinning me around, pocketing my phone in his jeans, and cupping my cheeks with his hands. His eyes say so much. I’m sorry. What can I do? How can I help?
It’s the soft kiss he brushes to my lips that soothes the archaic pain quaking in my chest. “ You’re brave.” A kiss to my cheek. “ You’re selfless.” The other cheek. “ You’re kind.” My nose. “ You’re funny.” He lingers longest on my forehead before pulling away. “ You’re exactly how you should be; and that is perfect.”
My vision blurs, and I swipe at my tears, not wanting to lose sight of the man in front of me. “ You heard her?”
“ I heard lies. From the mouth of a woman who clearly has a lot of deeply embedded regret, that has nothing to do with you, no matter what she says. I find it hard to believe you came from her, and I hate you had to listen to her vile words. I’m so sorry.”
His hands are still shaking as they caress my tear-soaked face, and I raise mine to cover them. “ You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“ I’m sorry I couldn’t stop her.”
My heart stutters. He would take on that responsibility, because that’s who he is.
I tighten my grip on his fingers as fresh tears pool in my eyes. “ Why does she hate me?”
He shakes his head slowly, and before I can repeat my question, he scoops me up in his arms and pulls me to his chest; his warmth smothers the frost left behind by my mother. “ It’s not about you. It’s about her. You were just caught in the crossfire, but you got out and now you’re here.”
With a steady gait, he walks us down the hallway. I think he’s going to take me into my bedroom but when he turns into the bathroom, I look up at him in confusion. “ What are we doing?”
“ I’m going to run you a bath with those funky bath bombs you love, and you’re gonna soak while I heat up some apple cider.” He lowers me until my feet land on the fluffy bath mat—my pink and orange one he laid in here without question. I watch with bated breath as he pulls out my phone and holds it up to my face to unlock it—too emotionally drained to ask him what he’s doing. “ You want your sad or happy girl playlist?”
“ I want to be happy.” My voice cracks and his gaze lifts from my phone screen. His handsome face plastered with understanding.
“ Happy girl playlist it is.” He nods. “ Why don’t you go and grab your pajamas. I’ll get everything set up in here for you.”
A couple of minutes later, I trudge back into the bathroom with my flannel pajamas and freeze in the doorway. Calming lavender greets me. The room is lit up in a warm, orange glow. Several candles sit along the edge of the bath, their flames dancing with the soft melody of music. Graham is bent over the tub, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up as he stirs the bright pink water. Tears well in my eyes again, and I try to brush them away so he doesn’t see, but he turns right at that moment. In the blink of an eye, he’s in my space, his warm, wet hand wrapped around my waist.
“ No more, Quinn . No more tears; unless they’re happy. I can’t stand to see anything but happiness on your beautiful face.” He places a soft kiss on my forehead before leaving me to relax.
I’m not sure how much time passes, but the warm water and uplifting lyrics melt away the sadness. You got out and now you’re here. As the water swirls around me, Graham’s heartfelt words take me back to the day it all changed.
To the day I set myself free.
Most girls spend their eighteenth birthday showered with gifts. A new pair of shoes. Perfume . Jewelry .
I spend mine cleaning the scratches left on my face and packing up the few belongings I own.
The water has been cut off again, leaving the potent smell of gin to cling to my hair and skin.
I’ll shower when I get there.
Where there is, I don’t know.
It took five minutes for me to pack up my entire life into a small backpack, which I should find depressing, but it just means I’ll be out of this godforsaken place quicker. I ignore the pang of discontent that I won’t get to graduate from high school, because after last night I’m not sure I’d even make it to graduation .
My mother was already in an anger-fueled state last night, and as usual, it took the tiniest of inconveniences to have all that hatred directed at me. Only , things escalated well past the typical slap or hateful slur of words. When I woke in a puddle of gin with bruises and scratches all over my body, I knew I couldn’t stay here anymore.
There’s no sadness, regret, or anger as I stare down at my mom passed out on the sofa. I feel nothing as I look at her for the last time, clutching a bottle of vodka to her chest like a mother would a baby.
What will she do when she wakes to find me gone?
It might be my birthday, but she’s getting the gift she’s always wanted. Me out of her life.
I slip on my worn sneakers and steel my spine. With a few changes of clothes and $317 I’ve managed to save cleaning tables at the local diner, I carefully open the door to our trailer, cringing when the hinges creak. I don’t dare look back to see if she wakes up or to take in the four squalid walls I grew up in.
I don’t look back as I walk down the steps of the trailer.
I don’t look back when I make my way down the gravel path leading to the main road.
I don’t look back as I buy a one-way ticket to Salem .
I don’t look back as the bus crosses the state border.
I don’t look back once.
Telling people about my childhood has always been something I’ve avoided, worried that once they learned about it, they’d see me differently. It’s also why I never stuck around the same place for too long. She’d never follow me; that was where she drew the line thankfully. But settling in one place for too long meant I had to set down roots and open up to people.
In the nine years since I left California , Sutton Bay was the first place that felt different. Finding a location to start my dreams and making a friend like Jo helped me decide that this little fishing town is where I want to stay.
But it’s the man who brings me flowers every day who helps me see a future here .
A light tap on the door has me slipping down until the water hits my chin. “ Come in.”
The door creaks open and I snort a laugh when Graham peeks in with his eyes clamped closed. As if he didn’t spread me out last night and devour me until I was boneless.
Cute , silly man.
“ How’s it going?” he asks.
“ I feel like a new woman.”
He creeps around the door frame, using his hands to fumble his way into the room.
“ You can look, you know.” I chuckle.
“ I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“ Why not?” I skim my hands across the rose petals floating on the surface of the water.
“ Tonight isn’t the night.” His jaw is set tight.
“ For what?”
“ For me to lose control and take you like I want to.”
My heart skips and thighs clench from the sudden wave of pleasure.
Maybe he does want to lose a little control, because he cracks an eye open. When he sees me submerged in the tub, both eyes open to brazenly take me in. He tracks me from head to toe, and even in the dim light I see his pupils swallow the green of his irises.
I might be in a bath full of water, but I know for a fact I’m wet.
“ Taking me like you want to is exactly what the doctor ordered. I need the distraction.” I baulk the moment those last four words leave my mouth, and I don’t miss the frown lining his face before he has a chance to hide it. “ That’s not what I me?—”
“ It’s fine.”
It’s not fine, because it’s not what I meant. Being with him would be a distraction, but that’s not why I want it .
He lowers himself to the floor, his back to the side of the tub, and tactfully changes the subject. “ It’s been a long day, but I meant what I said back at my mom’s. Robin Road is going to be deserted; everyone will be at the fair, so you might as well close for the day. I’m going to help Pat set up, but I’ll meet you there.”
“ Like a date?”
“ Umm , yeah. You know we haven’t done much in the ways of hanging out in public.”
Ouch . A date for appearances. Though , I can’t act bitter until we talk, and I get these roiling feelings out in the open.
“ Oh , of course,” I say, hoping to mask the edge to my tone.
He nods his head, and though I can’t see his face, the slump in his shoulders gives away his tiredness. I wanted to talk tonight, about what’s going on between us, but after my mom’s phone call, I’m drained of energy.
His arm rests along the edge of the tub, palm open in invitation, and I slip my wet hand into his. “ Thank you for coming to my mom’s tonight. She really likes you and I think it’s stopped her worrying that I’m going to die alone.”
He’s joking, but I hear what he’s not saying. Even though it isn’t real. If now were the right time and I wasn’t so burnt out, I’d tell him we can call it quits on the whole thing. Jenna can go to hell, but if he still wants to show his face at the wedding, I’ll be by his side proudly. I’m so eager to rip this stupid label off and replace it with something else.
What we call it is up to us.
“ Thank you for looking after me this evening. I’m sorry it ended how it did. She hasn’t called in so long, and I wasn’t paying attention when the call came through. It really took me by surprise.”
“ Please don’t apologize for that. You never have to be sorry for being upset around me. Though I can’t say it doesn’t kill me to see you like that.” He gives me a side glance. “ You were made to shine only, just as you are now. The world isn’t right when you’re sad, honey. It’s like an eclipse. And you’re the sun.”
I study his side profile, soaking up the warmth of his touch and words. “ Sometimes it feels like I shine the brightest with you.”
He shakes his head and scoffs lightly, dismissing himself as usual.
We sit there, hand in hand, not needing to talk to feel the others comfort. When the bath water starts to cool, I squeeze his hand, and he turns to look at me.
“ Will you tell me a nice story from your childhood?”
He hesitates, thinking, before his rich voice pacifies all the remaining sadness. “ My first memory of the Fall Fair is with my dad. He took Pat and me on the tractor ride. There are ten months between us, and the guy who runs it had a stupid height restriction. We were both an inch shy and would have had to wait an entire year before we could ride it again. Before we got measured, our dad stuck wads of newspaper in the heels of our sneakers, and we made the cut. Best day of my life. Well , for a six-year-old.”
Laughing softly, my thumb strokes across his knuckles, and he relaxes into the touch. “ Can we go on the tractor ride?”
“ Hmm , you might be too short.”
I splash the back of his head, and he flashes me that smile I know only few get to see.
Long after we say goodnight to each other, sleep is the last thing on my mind. Instead , I think how good Graham and I would be together.
And that I really, really like my fake boyfriend.