Chapter 9
Lucas
I stand there, on the grass at the opening of the inflatable tunnel, waiting for her to reply.
She lies there, in the dim light. Is she asleep?
“Quinn?” I call out again.
“I’m here.”
Déjà vu floods me, remembering Camp Blackhawk years ago.
The last time she was hiding. I’d listened to everyone calling out for her that day, knowing the whole time where she was.
I didn’t even hear her up there. I just knew how her mind worked.
Quinn only plays when she knows she can win. Which is why she rarely plays.
I’d forgotten about that day. How her eyes caught sight of my tattoo, and how I rushed to cover it up.
I remember resenting her quietness in that moment.
It made her a better listener. A better observer.
I knew then that she rarely missed anything, and I panicked that she might tell someone about it, but I didn’t feel right asking her to keep secrets.
She never told anyone, though. Not to my knowledge. Madoc has never inquired about it.
When she doesn’t move, I ask, “Can you come out?”
“Come in.”
I breathe out a laugh and climb inside. As I move toward her, she sits up and leans back against the wall of the tunnel.
“I took out the pizza,” I tell her, “but Jared and Madoc are already eating it.”
She chuckles. “Thanks.”
I wasn’t able to get another piece, unfortunately. I’m tempted to smuggle a jar of her sauce into my luggage.
“I wanted to give you something before I leave.” I sit across from her, my heart pumping in my ears. What time is it?
I take in a little air, unable to get a full breath. I pull out the Cubs cap from my back pocket and hand it to her. I’d gone to my car to get it, and I’m not sure why I didn’t wait till I was about to leave, but…
She looks down at it, her expression unreadable.
But then a voice interrupts us. “Quinn, don’t get my shirt wet!”
She darts her eyes up, addressing the voice somewhere outside the tunnel. “Too late!”
I take in the dark green T-shirt she wears over her bikini top that I hadn’t noticed till now.
Noah’s shirt? Splashes of water are sprayed across the fabric.
I flex my jaw. They became best friends quickly, didn’t they?
I hand her the hat. “Its home is here,” I tell her.
Her face softens as she takes it. “You mean, I can keep it till the next time you return?”
The next time I return… Something about the way she says it—kindly, but with an air of finality as if she knows I won’t be back—leaves a hole in the pit of my stomach. Quinn notices everything.
“It’s yours,” I tell her.
She doesn’t look at me, just brushes her fingers over the red C on the front of the hat. She’s had it in her possession a long time. I never expected to own it again.
But she hands it back to me. “Really, it’s okay.” She sets it in my lap. “I’d prefer you have that part of your father with you. Besides, you’re right. I should be wearing a hair net anyway.”
She smiles with that same relaxed air again as if she’s already said goodbye.
I close my fist around the bill of the hat—a piece of me—that she no longer wants. That she has no interest in looking in the mirror to see. I search her eyes for a falter—a chink in her armor. Is it really so easy for her? It’s like I’m disappearing from her past too.
But what do I want from her, really? If she looked sad—cried—what would I do? She was upset the last time I left. But seemingly, not now.
I stare at the shirt she wears, my eyes starting to burn. She has distractions now.
“Take off his shirt,” I say through my teeth.
I squeeze at the hat in my hand, feeling her go still.
“Excuse me?” she asks.
I lift my eyes, forcing the edge in my voice to ease up a little. “Before your brothers see.” I move past her, climbing out of the tunnel. “It’ll set Jared off on my last night here, and you know he’s like a bullet. Once shot, you can’t bring it back.”
I hope I sound convincing. Having Quinn pissed at me is the last thing I want in this moment, but I couldn’t stop myself.
She follows me out, and I weave slowly through the obstacle course and up the next wall, jumping rather than sliding down the next side.
She coasts down, still wearing the shirt.
I lock eyes with her.
Peering up at me, her spine straight, she doesn’t blink as she finally slips it off, over her head, and her body comes into view in her skimpy bikini top.
Her hair falls back down around her, a little wet.
Locks blanket her breast, drawing attention to the curve of a tendril as it drapes over her full and supple skin.
Jesus fuck.
Heat pools in my stomach, my body stirring, and it’s like she has a hand fisting my collar and is pulling me in. My fingers ache, empty and begging. If… If she were any other woman. God, any other woman, I’d have backed her up into the corner and kissed her.
Goddammit. She knows exactly what she is doing.
Kids I don’t recognize run through, jumping high and falling all over the place. Quinn grabs my hand to steady herself, and I draw in a sharp breath, instantly clasping my fingers around hers. I almost let my eyes close, a jolt spreading up my arm.
God, get it under control. It can’t happen.
She stands back upright again, but I don’t let her go, both of us leaning into the corner for support.
“It’ll pass,” she laughs, holding my arm with both hands now. I take Noah’s T-shirt from her, hanging it out of my side pocket.
The kids bounce over and over, the house underneath us rocking and swaying, and I plant my hand next to her head to steady myself.
She laughs quietly.
I gaze down at her and try to ignore the buzz on my skin at how close she is. By midnight, I’ll be gone. Back to where I’m solid. Back to where I belong. What will she be doing tomorrow?
Or tomorrow night? This moment, right now, will be long gone. In an hour. In ten minutes. And in thirty more seconds, I won’t be here with her. This close, smelling her and touching her where no one can see us. I turn my head away so she doesn’t see how I can barely breathe.
“Why do you like them?” I ask, trying to keep her to myself as long as possible.
My voice is barely a whisper, but I don’t mean to sound like I’m telling a secret.
She looks thoughtful and then shrugs a little. “Maybe it would be nice to have someone to talk to, after all.”
“You have family.”
“It’s not the same thing. They can’t really talk to me, can they?” she presses. “Do I really want to know what my family members are doing in private?”
More kids race through, leaping and crashing.
“If I share, so will they, and I’m not interested in the mental image of Hunter sinking his head beneath Dylan’s sheets, for crying out loud.” She offers a little smile. “But then that means I can’t tell them private things, either.”
I narrow my eyes. Like someone with his head under her sheets?
She looks away. “I need someone to talk to.”
We rock like we’re on a boat, and I open my mouth to say something, but I don’t know what. If this was ten years ago, I’d tell her she can talk to me. She used to have that.
And I would’ve told her she can be friends with anyone she wants. I don’t want her to feel lonely.
It’s different now, though. Am I really that worried she’ll get hurt by some guy? Honestly, it’s probably the best thing that can happen to anyone. She’ll probably cry over three or four guys before she finds the one meant for her.
Darts of water hit us, and Quinn and I jerk our eyes up, seeing Madoc’s daughter and Jared’s son shooting their water guns.
“Brats!” Quinn teases.
The eleven-year-olds giggle and come somersaulting over the slide, A.J. barreling toward us.
Quinn pushes into me, squealing, and we tumble to the floor. I start to catch her, but her knee jabs into my dick, and liquid fire spreads. I gasp, squeezing my eyes shut at what feels like fifteen fucking needles impaling my balls, creating a lightning storm down my thighs and up into my stomach.
I grunt, starting to curl up on reflex. “Oh, shit.” I try not to cry, forcing it to come out as a pained laugh, instead.
She sucks in a breath and pushes herself up. “Oh my God.” She looks down at me, horrified. “Are you okay? Did I…”
“Yeah, you clipped me a little bit,” I grit between my teeth, trying to breathe. “Fuck.”
I don’t know where the kids went, but they’re gone, and I just try to manage lying still as the pain gets worse before it gets better.
Quinn’s body trembles on mine, and I pry one eye open. Laughter gleams in her eyes, her lips trapped between her teeth.
“Are you laughing?” I burst out.
“I don’t mean to be.” She winces. “Can I do anything?”
I realize my arm is around her, my hand at the curve of her waist. I move my fingers just a hair, the feel of her skin making my fingertips vibrate.
“Yeah, get off me,” I joke, jerking away. “So I can get the hell out of here before you kill me.”
But as I rise up and offer her a hand, her smile has fallen, her expression torn. I didn’t mean ‘get out of here’ as in ‘the country.’ Just the bounce house.
Finally, she takes my hand and I tug her up.
I gaze down at her, easily lost in her brown eyes. Eyes that have seen me as a boy and counted on me when I was a man, trusted me, and looked right through me, the same now as they ever did. Eyes that gravitated to me with all of her questions and kindness and ease.
“You can do better, you know?” I say, continuing our conversation about Noah and Farrow. “You’re not the type of girl to go for guys like that. At least, I never thought so.”
Her expression falters, pain hitting her eyes, and I don’t try to apologize. It was a shitty thing to say, but I want to hurt her feelings. I’d forgotten the kind of man I used to be in her eyes, and I hope I forget again just as quickly.
Before she has a chance to move away from me, we’re surrounded. Kade shows up with a backpack, as well as Hawke, his girlfriend, Hunter, Dylan, and Farrow.
“Nice hiding place.” Kade looks between Quinn and me as he digs into his backpack. “Let’s do a toast.”
What time is it?