28. Georgia
Chapter 28
Georgia
W hen I woke up the next morning, it wasn't due to my alarm but rather the insistent buzzing of my phone. Blinking my eyes open in the soft glow of the morning light, I fumbled for the phone lost in my twisted sheets. I didn't even bother to look at the caller ID; I just answered blearily, "Hello?"
"Clark? You need to get up." I sat up, looking around at my silent apartment, Hannah still curled up on the pillow beside me.
"Quinn?"
"Yes, get a coat on. There's something outside." Immediately, I looked out the window, which didn't do much since it just faced a tree to see a sliver of the parking lot. I don't know why I obeyed, getting up and stumbling to my closet. My muscles still felt pleasantly pliant after our "work" last night and I had slept like the dead.
"Are you putting a coat on?" came the voice over my speaker as I pulled a heavy jacket from my closet and slipped on my house shoes.
"Yes, yes," I grumbled, shuffling to the front door. "Is someone hurt or something?"
"No, there's a surprise, and I have to go to work, so I can't wait any longer." He sounded excited and nervous at the same time. What the hell was going on ?
I didn't even bother locking my door, the early morning sunlight nearly blinding me as I took my first steps out of the apartment complex, the phone still held to my ear.
"Come to the parking lot," Quinn petitioned before hanging up, the phone going silent against my ear. I sighed, rubbing my hands over my ear and attempting to smooth my bangs down as I walked around the side of the building. This had better be good.
"Quinn, this better be good—"I stopped, bracing myself against the old oak that cracked the parking lot with its roots, and stood staring.
Quinn stood there, hands dug deep into his pockets, already in his outfit for work with crisp suit pants and the peaking of a white button-up slightly revealed beneath his jacket. He looked nervous, and now I could see why. Because standing next to him was a man with a clipboard. And the man with the clipboard was standing next to a sleek black sedan with a large red bow wrapped around it.
I opened my mouth. Then I closed it. Sebastian Quinn cleared his throat and said, "Consider it a bonus. I hit 15,000 subscribers last night. And that was in a very big part, to you." He said this quietly, out of earshot of the bored man in overalls holding the clipboard, looking cold and bored.
"15,000?" I squeaked, my hands coming to my mouth. "Wait, Quinn, did you buy me a car?" He shrugged as if it was no big deal at all.
"Like I said, it's a bonus. And a write-off for me, so it's really no big deal." The large man crossed his arms, looking at the car and then back at me for a response.
How was I going to respond? Did I accept it? I mean…a car?
"It's in your name; that's why this guy is here. The car is paid for, tax and tags included. Obviously, you have to get your title, but I'm covering it all." Motioning over to the car dealer, a clipboard was shoved in my hands by the new annoyed man.
"Just sign the highlighted parts, and I'll get out of your hair." It was more a demand than a request; the man was already looking wistfully over at his large truck whose hazard lights were on and carrying a few more cars in various states of repair.
Quinn saw me hesitate, looking over at my new ride, whose hubcaps hadn't even touched a curb yet. The bow billowed slightly in the wind, and I swallowed back the swell of emotions that nearly overtook me. Instead, I cleared my throat and signed, handing it back to the man who barely glanced at me as he hustled back to his work truck.
"Anyway, I’ve got to get to work." He handed me a pair of keys, shiny and new. It even came with an auto-start so that this winter wouldn't be terrible during those overtime shifts. "Enjoy, you earned it."
Quinn turned to go, hands still shoved in his pockets. As he walked to the car, the sounds of crunching leaves trailing his footfalls.
"Quinn!" I yelled, keys clutched into my hands so tightly I knew they were leaving marks. He stopped and turned to look at me, his expression unreadable. "Thank you."
He shrugged, a smile touching his lips and revealing that small dimple. "You too, Clark." I waited until after he left to open the car and sit on the leather seats. Taking a deep breath, I inhaled the rich leather and new car smell until I was dizzy.
He had bought me a car.
The club was too loud, and my dress was too tight; I wiggled it back down my hips for the thousandth time, a constant reminder that Sarah's body shape was much different than mine. But the one dress I had for "special" events could be found on the floor of my closet, molted with cat hair since, of course, Hannah decided my black dress would make a perfect little bed.
Sarah pulled me back onto the dance floor; her lips curled into a smile extenuated with the bright red lipstick as she shook her hips to the music that the DJ was blaring through the speakers that shook with intensity. Smiling despite myself, I spun my best friend in a twirl before allowing the warmth of the alcohol to take control of my body, allowing my inhibitions to lower just a bit.
I tried to focus on having fun with Sarah, not how I felt like everyone was staring at me, as if they would know that I didn't usually dress this nice or listen to this music. Like they knew the dress I was wearing was borrowed. Deep down, I knew no one was looking at me, and it was just my nerves, so I took another sip of my cocktail because I refused to leave it on the table for obvious reasons.
Sarah had still driven; I hadn’t told her about the new car, and I parked down in a neighborhood just so no one would see me getting out of it. I had no way to explain my new ride and until I did, it was a secret. A very expensive secret with all-leather interior and seat warmers.
"He's almost here! I can't wait for you to meet him!" Sarah shouted, her eyes sparkling with excitement, and I hoped to god this guy was as good as she claimed because I would hate to have to hit a man with my car when it's tires hadn’t even hit a curb yet. Big emphasis on yet . "He's bringing a friend; Chloe is coming too, and so is Andrew!" I vaguely remembered Chloe, a sweet girl whom Sarah had met working at The Grind. Andrew ran the flower shop across the street, so I was instantly excited to catch up. We ended up being the only ones at dinner, which was fine with both of us; there was more sushi to share between us, and the birthday dessert they brought out came with an extra fork.
It was Andrew who showed up first on the arm of a ridiculously tall, attractive, bearded man who looked like he was a lumberjack in his spare time. Chloe and Sarah screamed when they saw each other; the shorter woman enveloped her in a hug.
"I'm going to grab another drink!" I cried over the music, my empty glass cold in my hand, and Sarah waved me on. I wove through the crowd; Sarah wasn't wrong, this club was popular. Shiny new floors and the faint smell of fresh paint in the old warehouse had turned it into the hottest spot in the city.
I knew I only wanted a few drinks in me; even with the promise of hotel rooms, I hated waking up with a hangover. The cocktails here tasted great, but all that sugar really did a number on me in the morning, so I was pacing myself.
"I'll have another, please," I tried not to yell at the frazzled bartender, but it was so loud, and a headache had already begun to pound behind my eyes. A nod of acknowledgment had me leaning on the new marble bar top, cooling my overheated skin.
"What are you drinking gorgeous?" A deep male voice whispered in my ear, so close that I jumped in surprise. The owner of said voice was a tall, blond man taking up the space next to me. I immediately noticed how he leaned on the bar, showing off his muscular biceps that his black shirt barely contained, and it took all of my self-control not to giggle at the obvious peacocking.
"Just a cosmo," I replied politely, a smile pasted on my face.
"Can I pay for it?" He asked just as politely, blue eyes trailing up my body with an intensity that sent a blush creeping up my neck. "I'm Justin."
As I shook the offered hand, the bartender returned with my drink, and I replied, "I have a tab open, but thank you for the offer; it was nice to meet you!"
I quickly escaped back to our small bar table, though I could feel the heat of Justin's stare following me. Why didn't I let him buy me the stupid drink?
When was the last time I had a date? Well, of course, this wasn't a date, and guys you meet at bars aren't usually looking to take you out to dinner.
"Who's that guy? He's cute!" gushed Chloe, nudging me a bit with her elbow while tossing her attention back at the man at the bar. "And he's still watching you."
I shook my head, knowing that the flush was creeping up to my cheeks at this point. "Yeah, super nice." I took a sip to give myself an out from the conversation while the others seemed to pick up on it.
Sarah looked over the crowd from her phone suddenly, a smile breaking out over her beautiful face as she scanned the crowd.
"He's here!" she cried as she waved her hand; at the same time, my purse slipped off my shoulder. Cursing, I barely picked up the vintage leather bag before another club-goer could step on it with a nine-inch heel. When I rose, Sarah was gone, assumedly throwing her arms around her date, whom she would not stop talking about.
"Georgia!" I turned quickly toward the sound of my name to see Sarah leading a Viking-esque man who seemed to tower over the other men in the club who hadn't taken his eyes off of her. I swallowed hard, gripping my glass so I wouldn't drop it. "Georgia, this is Thomas Fletcher. We call him Fletcher, though."
Thomas's smile faltered a bit as he finally tore his eyes away from his date, but he quickly recovered and offered his hand. "Yeah, Thomas is my dad's name. It's nice to meet you!"
I was nodding, probably too quickly to seem normal. "Georgia. Nice to meet you, Fletcher." The man's smile didn't waver.
"Let's go dance!" Sarah cried, breaking the awkward tension she obviously didn't feel as she dragged Fletcher onto the floor. I watched as the tall man spun my best friend before grabbing her around the hips and pulling her close to him.
The slight blond had to stand on her tiptoes to be able to wrap her arms around his neck. Chloe tugged my hand with an imploring smile, and my nervous energy just needed a place to escape, so I followed.
It was nearly instantly that Chloe caught the eye of a man whom she immediately began dancing with. So I swayed to the music, the bouncing and gyrating of bodies around me making me feel instantly claustrophobic, but I swallowed it down as I tried to focus on the beat instead of the crawling of my skin.
A touch on my waist had me turning quickly, my eyes quickly drawing up to the tall blond that was at the bar. Justin? Justin.
"Can we dance?" he all but shouted, which was fair because the walls were vibrating with the force of the bass at this point.
Justin leaned down for me to whisper-yell in his ear, "I don't really know how!" Right when that sentence left my mouth, I realized what an invitation that sounded like. Fuck.
A smile broke out over his face as he took my hands and put them around his neck as I swallowed hard. "Just follow my lead!"
I was at war with myself; this guy seemed nice, and we were supposed to be having fun. There was no reason not to dance with this very appropriate man or even sleep with him. Because I could also do that—he had a nice face as far as faces go, his eyes weren't too close together, and his nose was…nice? Everything seemed off: his skin was too pale, his eyes too blue.
Justin's hands began to stray to my lower back as the song switched to something much more sexual. My gaze darted over to Sarah, but she was too involved with Fletcher, her eyes practically emoting hearts as she swayed her hips in time with the pumping of the music.
His hands ran down the back of my dress, settling on the curve of my ass as he pulled me even closer, close enough that I could smell the far-too-musky cologne he wore. My mind flickered back to the smell of bergamot and cedar, the clear, clean scent that immediately got my pulse racing.
Justin buried his nose in my hair and whispered/yelled in my ear, "You smell good." I didn't respond because, honestly, I didn't even know how to. "You want to get out of here?"
It took me an embarrassingly long time for the question to actually register as my mind raced, my senses overloaded from the heat of his body, the music pulsing around me, and the warmth of the alcohol in my blood. I wasn't sure how to respond. I immediately pretended to push my hair back behind my ear and brought my thumb to my mouth to chew the nail while he looked down at me in obvious expectation.
One last Hail Mary had me looking for Sarah as I scanned the crowd, and everything seemed to stand still. It was as if the crowds were jumping and dancing in slow motion while the music dulled to a low pounding; even the very intentional touches on my exposed back seemed far away.
Because across the club, he was walking in, with his dark curls and his dark eyes while the flashing club lights seemed to spotlight his beauty from across the room. I felt the breath leave my lungs as he made a beeline towards me, his jaw set and his lips pressed into a thin line. His plain white shirt showed the dark tattoos that swirled underneath the material, and I couldn't help but notice the way his hands were curled into fists.
"Hey, I've been looking for you, sweetheart." Quinn's voice was deep and monotone, looking over me to the man currently gripping my hips. "Sorry I was late."
I didn't know how to answer, but Justin's hands lifted from my hips, and I found my hand in Quinn's. "Thanks for the dance, Justin," I said, my eyes on Quinn. I didn't hear what Justin said or if he said anything at all.
"Thanks for the save," I said, trying not to yell even as the music swelled around us. Quinn's golden eyes finally found mine, and his face softened. "Yeah, of course, Clark. What are friends for?"
That twisted something deep inside but I nodded with a smile and looked around to see Sarah waving and pointing to Sebastian like she’d just figured out who he was. Quinn raised his hand in a quick wave, his eyes boring into Fletcher's, who looked like he’d lost a shade of color as he looked at his friend.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, realizing I had been so grateful for the save that I hadn't even wondered why he was over an hour away from his house.
He jerked his chin towards Fletcher and Sarah. "Fletch asked me to come; he's pretty taken with Sarah and wanted a buffer with her friends."
"You're the friend he was bringing?" I suddenly realized, my heart thudding. "So you're, like, here to hang out. All night?"
Quinn pulled a face at the remark, and I rolled my eyes. "I don't mean it like that, Jesus—I just didn't expect to see you."
"Well, I am here. Against my will, I might add." He shook his head at his friend's back, who was currently tongue-fucking my best friend. "Want to dance?"
It was my turn to make a face. "I really don't know how." Quinn looked me up and down. "Seemed to be doing okay with blondie over there."
I hit his chest. "Oh, shut up, he was just grinding on me, and I was just…there." Quinn's eyes darkened, but not in the way I was used to when we filmed.
"Do I need to have a talk with him about manners?" Sebastian asked, his jaw clenching again as his eyes searched the sea of partygoers.
"Oh my god, no, Jesus, what is wrong with men?" I snapped, shaking my head and wiggling my dress down again as it pulled at the sides. "I just wasn't sure if I wanted his attention or not. No big deal. He was fine." And honestly, he was. And even more honestly, I wasn't sure why I wasn't into dancing with him. Justin was handsome and polite and seemed like he knew what to do with his hands. But there was just something missing.
Quinn was jostled as another dancing person bumped into him, and he shook his head, looking down at me annoyed, before stretching out a hand to me. "Dance with me so we don't get trampled, please?"
I took his hand before I realized I had, his warm palm so familiar in my own as he pulled me to him. "I really don't know how to do this; I wasn't being facetious!"
I felt his laugh more than I heard it as he pulled my arms to drape over his shoulders; the heels I wore were the only reason I was even able to do so as he put his hands on my hips.
"Just follow my lead," whispered Quinn against my ear, his warm breath drawing a shiver from me. Something deep in me stirred at those words, just like the first time we had…worked together. But I trusted him then, so I supposed a stupid dance at a stupid club was nothing. I’d had this man's dick in my mouth; I could dance badly with him in a dimly lit club.
The music swayed and swelled as the DJ blended the music, and I found myself looking up at Sebastian Quinn's face. He also had a very nice face; obviously, I had masturbated to his mostly covered face for months, barely having a hint of lips to go off of. His fingers went to trace the edge of my dress and I couldn't stop the gasp that left my mouth.
It seemed to break Quinn out of thought because he immediately brought it back up to my waist, clearing his throat and pulling me closer as a couple nearly bumped into me. His leg slotted between my knees, well, at least as much as it could, with how tight my dress was.
"Your dress looks good!" he cried over the music, and I didn't miss how his jaw muscles seemed to work as if he was chewing the inside of his cheek.
"Thanks! It's Sarah's." Quinn just nodded and whatever spell that the music and press of other bodies had cast over us seemed to have burst. "Want a drink?"
Quinn's hands dropped from my sides as he exclaimed, "Fuck, please, yes." I couldn't help the laughter that escaped me as I grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the bar.
The music no longer seemed to bother me, nor did the press of bodies as I wove through the crowd. Quinn bought us a round, flashing his metal Amex card. The bartender immediately flashed his largest smile and poured the drinks a bit heavier than the recipe called for.
"So, how long have you been here?" Quinn asked, shooting back a shot of something amber-colored and smelling sweet.
I shrugged, taking a sip of my third drink of the night. "About two hours now. My feet are killing me." I whined, rotating my ankles in the strappy black heels.
"I'll bet." Quinn took a quick look at the watch on his wrist and said, "It'll be closing soon; I got here late. Work was crazy."
My eyebrows raised slightly. "Work or work ?" I winked over a sip of my cocktail.
Dark eyebrows raised as he rolled his eyes, he coughed, "Jesus, Clark," taking my drink from me and taking a large gulp.
"Hey, that's mine!" I exclaimed with a laugh as his eyes went wide.
"Shit, this is good; I'll get you another one. You owe me this one." He gestured to the bartender as he took another drink, humming appreciatively.
Crossing my arms, I paused the bartender and asked for water instead. "How do I owe you, Quinn?" I looked at the date displayed on my phone. "In fact, you actually owe me if I remember right." Plucking the drink out of his hands, I took a dainty sip before sliding it back towards him.
He made a face before looking at the date, before swearing and unlocking his phone. "You're right, Clark," he acknowledged, clicking a few buttons before pocketing the phone and taking another drink. "I think we're even. I saved your ass at the club, and I ate your pu?—"
My hand shot out and covered his mouth, Quinn's eyes dancing with laughter, and I jerked my hand back in disgust. "Gross, did you just lick me?" I exclaimed, pulling a face and wiping my now-wet hand on his shirt as he laughed.
"Wouldn't be the first time," he countered in a stupid sing-song voice, throwing back the rest of my sweet drink. I leaned back on the counter, shaking my head as I sipped on my water.
"You're incorrigible, Sebastian Quinn."
His face froze mid-laugh, something passing over it as he swallowed hard before taking my water from me, despite me slapping the bar lightly in protest.
"That's new," he said, raising his brows as he chewed on an ice cube. Confused, I took my drink back.
"What's new?"
Quinn leaned one elbow on the counter, tattoos on clear display against the white marble counter as he observed me like we were the only people in the club.
"My name. You've never said my name," he clarified, his golden eyes curiously intense as we surveyed each other.
I shook my head, turning my attention to the glass of water and running my finger through the condensation. "I'm sure I have."
Quinn shrugged, leaning on the counter so closely that his elbow bumped against mine, but he wasn't looking at me. "No, I would've remembered that."