Chapter 14 #3
I tilted my head as the guilt washed over her face.
What if she hadn’t met Rillie? That didn’t mean she needed to worry about it.
Part of me despised the way she acted on edge about everything.
I despised how much she had to worry about the world.
Quinntessa seemed like a nice girl with a shitty dad.
Her dad didn’t define her. I wondered if she sat awake at night thinking the same things I did about my family.
We both had complicated fathers. She had to have an idea of my family if she was in Coven.
There was no way Sebastian would let Quinntessa walk out on these streets along not knowing the dangers that lurked.
The breeze blew through the bleachers and tossed her curls around over her shoulders. I licked my lips and fought back a smile when she met my gaze.
She really did remind me of honey. I sounded like a broken record now, only able to find such obvious things that made me feel less of a dick for doing this to her.
Mustang was like a honeybee. I believe she could cause some disturbance here in Coven, but she most likely wouldn’t.
Besides her odd choice to play football with the boys, she kept her head down and her nose in one of her many books.
I glanced down at her textbooks and nabbed the tilt of the book she was reading now.
Shark Bait.
Hm. I wondered what that could be about. I didn’t spend much time wondering before I returned to her face.
Her eyes would be prettier in yellow. It was clear she believed she was best in this rosy shade of red.
She wore it more than the light blues and pinks I’d seen before.
She had little specks of gold in her eyes.
It was faint, but the darkness of her velvety gaze in this lighting gave such rich depth, I couldn’t help but lean into the door I was holding.
As my arm glided up the door frame above Quinntessa’s head, her face deepened in color. My smile grew, soon becoming a wide smirk as my lips curled into my success.
There was a moment where I held my breath, smiling at her as her eyes widened with fascinating panic. I loved the way her eyes swirled with genuine distrust for me, yet she still blushed when I did the simplest of things.
“Eh.” I hoped to calm her thoughts as I slid my weight to one foot and lazily shrugged.
Quinntessa’s gaze moved from mine, instantly making me feel cold. I exhaled a short breath and reached out with the hook of my keys stuck over my finger. Her eyes returned to mine as I delicately caressed under her chin, the warmth of my body returning.
“You’ll know when you see her,” I quietly added.
She didn’t speak. Normally, I’d find myself proud for shutting a girl up and becoming their only focus. Except, that wasn’t what I wanted. Not anymore.
I wanted her to talk. I wanted her out of her head, even if she would just push me away and tell me to get out of her space. At least I knew she wasn’t stuck inside the white walls of her mind.
I’d never seen Quinntessa talk to friends. She didn’t hang out with people in the mornings. She was just there, running through every day on autopilot. I wondered if the image of her father holding a gun to her head haunted the sweet dreams inside her pretty pink bubble.
I leaned forward slightly, waiting for her to speak. Most girls would either kiss me or give me some flirty line about my eyes. Quinntessa did the exact opposite.
Her finger poked my stomach, catching me by surprise. I peered down for a second as she quickly retracted her hand, then up in time to see her nervously smiling. A giddy, anxious laugh escaped her, her smile falling and rising as she debated how to react to her actions.
“Nice shirt.” Her comment came out like an embarrassed whimper, face as red as my lipstick.
Like she knew anything about Woodstock. I bet she was obsessed with Little Mix.
I arched my brow and waited for her to crumble under the pressure of her comment, but she didn’t let up.
Besides the warmth I wanted to steal on her face, I couldn’t find anything in her expression proving she was lying.
My eyes flashed down to her hips, tugging my lip ring into my mouth.
“Nice cheeks,” I blurted out. Not my best comment, but it would have worked on anyone else.
Excitingly, Quinntessa really wasn’t anyone else. She narrowed her eyes at me and didn’t bite when I tried to close the distance between us. At least if she let me into her house, I wouldn’t need a key. She was already skipping class, so if she truly wanted to keep going . . .
“What do you borrow them for?” Another fucking question.
This girl really wouldn’t let up. She might as well have been a cop with all the questions she asked.
I licked my lips and watched her follow my tongue before meeting my eyes again with a concentrated gaze. She was determined. I couldn’t tell if that ticked me off or had my stomach in knots.
“Th-The keys,” Quinntessa added.
Giving up on the hope she’d make a move, I dropped my hand from the door and crossed my arms over my body.
She waited patiently for me to respond, not letting me out of the question she so desperately needed answered.
At this point, I wouldn’t have even been surprised if Quinntessa Dawson was a trained FBI agent trying to get into my head.
“To let lost girls into the school,” I whispered and motioned through the doorway directly between us. “Go right and take a left before the water fountain.”
“I-I know.” She gave me this adorable melty smile, her eyes darting to and from my face. “I’m . . . I mean, uh?—”
“Thank you,” I teased her.
“Yes.” She shuffled in place, staring at me. Her books pressed into her chest, the heart necklace on her chest pulsing with her lungs. I wondered how fast her heart raced around me. “Thank you!”
I leaned against the glass and watched Quinntessa fly through the doorway.
She took a few steps before I let the door close and lock between us.
After a few steps back toward the bleachers, I turned around and leaned enough to see her walk quickly in the direction I pointed out to her.
She slowed her steps before the corner, and my heart skipped thinking she might turn back and meet my gaze.
She didn’t. And I didn’t blame her for it.
Quinntessa should run.