19. Quinn
quinn
. . .
I ’m a lot of things in life. Just ask my mother. She’ll tell you that I’m talented, good-looking, sweet, kind, good-natured, a rule follower, and shy. All really great attributes to have, except the last one. Being shy can be a hindrance. It can hold you back from trying out for a school play that the drama teacher desperately wants you to star in or putting yourself out there when you really want something. Shyness can also make someone appear aloof or rude. Neither of which I am.
There are other drawbacks to being shy, like being so reserved you don’t realize a good thing until it’s passed you by. I’m sure I’ve missed a few opportunities in my life especially when it comes to finding the right woman to spend time with. Having two sisters, girls were in and out of our house, most of them with a crush or at least showing some sort of interest in getting to know me better. Introversion aside, I’d never date one of my sisters’ friends. Not because I don’t like them, but more because I find it awkward and wouldn’t want to put Peyton or Elle in that situation, although, Peyton is engaged to my best friend. The difference being, Noah and I don’t sit around and gossip over bottles of wine.
I’ve never had an urge to chase someone until now. I can’t explain it, and I’m not sure I want to try. There’s something about Nola that pushes all the right buttons to get my heart beating faster, my palms sweating, and my tongue thick and tied which results in my inability to speak coherently when she’s around.
When she invited me to the club, my immediate response was no. Clubs aren’t for me. Sure, I’ve been to some, but mostly when Elle would ask me or if 4225 West was throwing a party. I’ve tried to engage in that lifestyle, use my name to get me things, but it’s not for me. So, when Nola asked, I wanted to say yes. The word was on the tip of my tongue, but reticence held me back. When we hung up, I had to ask myself if she was worth putting myself out there, being uncomfortable. The answer was yes.
And now, as I look down at the woman who has her arm around my back and is resting her head on my chest, I feel like the luckiest guy in the world… but I’m a guy without a plan. I hadn’t thought about where I would take her when I asked her if she wanted to leave the club. I just wanted to get out of there and away from the mass quantity of people. I’d love to take her back to my place but doing so sends the wrong message. Of course, I want to be with her, but getting to know her is high on my priority list.
My car arrives, and the valet hands me my keys. I hold the door open for Nola, waiting for her to situate herself before closing her in and rushing around to the driver’s side.
“I thought you had a motorcycle?” she asks as soon as I shut the door. I look over my shoulder and punch the gas to enter onto the road.
“I do.”
“And a car?”
“Um… yeah.”
“So, you’re not a struggling musician?”
I hadn’t thought about how this would look. What guy, who plays at a café, can afford both? Not many that I know of. I’m really struggling on how to reply to her and can feel her gaze boring into me.
“It’s okay to say that your parents bought them for you or whatever. My daddy bought me a car for graduation.”
“Oh yeah, what kind?” I sigh heavily, thankful for the reprieve.
“Convertible bug.”
“Is that what you wanted?” I glance over at her and she shrugs.
“I didn’t really want anything but did all the same. If that makes sense.”
“It does,” I tell her. “My parents are like that, often buying things without asking.”
“It’s a nice trait, but kind of annoying. I mean what if I wanted a truck?”
“Did you?” I can’t help but laugh. I turn down one of the main roads off Sunset and continue to drive to nowhere. I have no idea where to take her and I definitely don’t want the night to end.
“No, but it would’ve been nice of them to ask, is all I’m saying.” Every now and again, her accent shines through, and it makes me smile. I like that she’s not from here, that she’s different from all the other women I know.
“Where are you from?”
We happen to look at each other at the same time and it’s like time is standing still. There’s a wave or current, something between us that’s pulling us together. A horn honk, and I swerve. My heart’s beating out of my chest as I try to keep my car on the road.
“Sorry,” she says softly.
“For what? I’m the one who almost got us killed.”
“I don’t know. I just thought I needed to say it.”
We drive in silence and before I know it, we’re at the beach. It’s still dark and the sun won’t be up for a few hours, and I’m nervous. I should’ve offered to take her home after I almost crashed my car. Instead, I selfishly kept her with me. She’s probably ready to flee.
She does just that. Nola opens the car door and gets out quickly. I half expect her to slam the door, but she doesn’t. “Are you coming?” she asks, bending down so I can see her.
“Yeah.” I unbuckle my seatbelt and get out of my car to meet her at the front. Together, we walk side-by-side, trudging through the sand, both of us holding onto our shoes. It’ll be my luck that the cops are out tonight, and we’ll get busted. They won’t care who I am or anything. It’ll be jail time for the both of us, on our first date.
No, this isn’t a date, no matter how much I want it to be. I follow Nola down to the surf, praying she doesn’t want to go swimming, although I’d be up for it. She finds us a place to sit, with our backs resting against some driftwood.
“This is the most beautiful place I have ever seen.”
I’ve been here many times, so I know what this place looks like. However, it’s dark and the pier lights don’t exactly illuminate the area well.
“Have you been here before?” Dumb question on my part, I know. Of course, everyone’s been here.
“Once. We drove by. My roommate and I,” she says. The clarification on roommate shouldn’t make a difference to me, but it does.
“Do you surf?”
She shakes her head. “It’s funny, I grew up close to the ocean, but other than playing in the waves, we never really went out in the water unless we were on a boat. Sharks, ya know, and my mother is paranoid.”
“Most moms are.” Mine is. Each time any of us go out, she sits on the beach, watching us. She tells us it’s because she likes to see us in action, but she’s not fooling any of us. After Peyton’s accident, she changed. Not for the better or worse, she’s just different, more the protective mama bear. If she had her way, we’d all live next to her so she can keep a watchful eye on everyone.
“What about you, do you surf?” she asks.
“All the time. My dad taught me when I was little. It’s something we’ve always done together, and my uncle’s daughter is an amateur surfer. She’s going to be pro someday.” I have no idea why I just told her about Eden. It’s very unlike me, and yet I feel like I can tell Nola everything. Never in my life have I felt this way.
“Wow, that’s amazing. She must be really good.” Nola pulls her legs to her and sets her head on her knees.
“Are you cold?”
“No, just tired.”
“Do you want me to take you home?” I start to stand, but she pulls me down quickly. I fall, landing into her. “I’m sorry.” When I go to right myself, she holds onto my arm. I use this movement to adjust and sit closer, mirroring her body position.
“I don’t want to go home, Quinn. This here, it’s perfect.”
I agree with her. The only thing missing is the sun, but it should be up soon. “Do you like it here? I mean in Los Angeles.”
She nods. “Yes, I do. It’s different from South Carolina. More relaxed, but hectic.”
“Traffic here is nuts. For a while, I lived in this little town called Beaumont. It’s where my uncle is from. My dad and I moved there when I was eight, but after high school, I came back here. My grandma and aunt and her husband live here, and it’s where I feel the most comfortable.”
“And your dad, does he live here?”
I nod. “An hour or so from here by car. He and my mom live on the beach. My sister lives in Malibu with her boyfriend and my other sister lives in Portland with her fiancé who’s also my best friend.”
Nola looks at me slowly. There’s a mask of confusion on her face, something I can’t quite put my finger on. “You only have two sisters?”
“Only?” I laugh. “They’re twins. Enough said.”
I look into her eyes, wondering what she’s thinking. Had she heard differently? I’m under the impression she doesn’t really know much about my family. However, her reaction to them seems odd.
“And the women I saw you with at the Bean Song?”
I scratch the back of my neck, wishing I had my beanie on. I think back to the first time I saw her and when she approached me. “That was one of my sisters and the other was Dana. She’s the lead singer of the band I’m in.”
“You’re in a band?”
Nodding, I sigh. “Yeah, I am. It’s a new, recent decision by me.” It’s the first time I’ve said it aloud, and I’m not sure if I like the way it sounds yet or not.
“So, you don’t have a girlfriend?” The look on her face is priceless. I wish I had my phone out, so I could capture this moment and maybe show it to her in a few months, if we’re still hanging out.
Wow, it’s hard for me to fathom what a few months from now will look like, but I very much like the idea that she’s in the picture.
“No, no girlfriend,” I tell her. “And in case you’re wondering, no ex-wives or children either… that I know of.”
“Good. That’s very good.”
My expectation is that she’d tell me the same, but she doesn’t. I don’t want to ask because maybe she’s more private than I am, but it makes me wonder. Does she have a boyfriend back home? No, I’m sure she doesn’t, otherwise she wouldn’t be here with me right now or dancing the way she was with that guy earlier.
Seeing her dance like that made me jealous, an emotion I’m really not used to. When I arrived at the club, I immediately went upstairs to the VIP area to get a better view. I couldn’t find her anywhere until I spotted her on the dance floor. I don’t know how long I watched her until I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought about leaving, and even made it to the door before I turned around. I’m thankful I did.
We’re both sitting here, with our legs drawn to our chests and our heads turned, looking at each other, while our arms are pressed against each other. No words pass between us, just gazes. I like that no words are filling the air, and yet I still feel like I’m getting to know her.
When the sun starts to rise, I take her hand in mine and walk us toward the surf. The wet sand is icy cold on our feet. She turns to seek solace, but I hold onto her and pull her toward the water, with her screaming, begging me to stop. When I look at her, her face says otherwise.
“Oh, my God, the water is so cold.”
“Probably to you, yes,” I tell her, looking down at the soaked hem of my jeans. “It’s about sixteen degrees colder than the Atlantic.” Against everything I’ve ever done, I pull her closer, bringing her into my arms. Logic says we should head back to the sand, but I don’t want to move. Standing here, with her in my arms while the sun is coming up, well, even I consider this romantic.
“Quinn,” she says my name softly as she looks up at me.
My fingers push her hair behind her ear before my thumb and forefinger gently grip her chin. Looking into her eyes, I lean forward, watching her for any hesitation before my eyes close and my lips press against hers.