Chapter 3 #2
Quinn is listening with that calm, attentive expression she wears like a second skin, and Mom is gesturing dramatically like she does when she’s telling a story she’s told a hundred times and still thinks is hilarious.
Quinn laughs, soft and easy. I hate that I like the sound.
I blow out a slow breath and head toward them, because apparently, I’m a masochist.
Mom spots me first. “Micha- sorry, Mikey,” she corrects. “Come here. Quinn was just sharing stories about her and Sadie growing up in New York.”
Quinn’s eyes meet mine. “Your mother is also telling me stories about you.”
I groan. “I’m leaving.”
“She says you were an angel,” Quinn adds before I can retreat.
Mom scoffs. “Compared to Luc, yes.”
Quinn’s gaze flicks to me, quick and sharp, narrowing. She caught the way my shoulders stiffened.
“I was not an angel,” I refute tightly. “I was a menace.”
Mom waves a hand. “You were loud. That’s not the same thing.”
Quinn’s mouth quirks up in small, knowing smile. “Loud seems accurate.”
I lift the tequila bottle. “You saying I’m loud?”
“I’m saying you occupy a lot of space,” she clarifies. It’s not an insult. But the way she says it, like she’s measuring me, sticks a little in my gut.
“I do that,” I concur, letting swagger coat the words that are probably getting close to a slur. “It’s kind of my thing.”
She studies me for a beat. “Is it?”
My jaw clenches. There’s that red flag scanner again. The way she asks questions like she already knows the answers but wants to see what I’ll say. I lean closer, lowering my voice. “Are you actually trying to figure me out at my brother’s barbecue?”
She doesn’t back up. “I’m just paying attention.”
“That’s worse.”
“Only if there’s something worth noticing.”
Mom turns toward the house and wonders out loud, “What’s Luc up to over there?
” The yard shifts like a tide. People gather.
Dean and Sadie move toward the center. Hayden follows.
Lily steps forward with Larkin balanced on her hip, Marie still hovering close like a protective charm.
Quinn remains beside me, her shoulder nearly brushing mine.
Luc stands in the middle of the patio, smiling like he’s about to do something big. My heart thuds once. Hard. Is he about to do what I think he is?
Luc clears his throat, and the entire backyard quiets. “Okay.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck. He’s actually nervous. “I’m going to do this before I talk myself out of it.”
“Luc?” Lily’s brows knit as she hands the baby off to Marie.
He shakes his head, stepping closer to her. “I know we’ve had to go through a lot.” His voice shaking as he clears his throat. “Two years apart. You coming back. Us trying to rebuild something that should’ve never been broken in the first place.”
Lily’s eyes shine instantly. Tears gathering like they’ve been waiting for the right moment.
Luc’s gaze flicks to Larkin, and his voice softens.
“And we have her. Our angel. We have this life. And I don’t want to keep living like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I don’t want to keep wondering if tomorrow steals you from me again. ”
He drops to one knee. The bartender appears at his side with a tray, and my stomach drops again because I see what’s on it. A ring box. The air leaves my lungs like I’ve been punched.
“Oh my God,” Sadie gasps, clutching onto Dean’s bicep, who’s muttering holy shit like he can’t decide if he’s proud or jealous, instinct kicking in a second later as she raises the camera and starts clicking.
Luc opens the ring box and holds it up, his hands steady now, like once he commits, he becomes unstoppable.
“Lilith Jillian Anderson,” his voice thick, “I loved you before you remembered me. I loved you when you didn’t.
I love you now, and I’ll love you for the rest of my life.
Marry me. Be my wife. Be mine. Be my forever. ”
Lily covers her mouth with her free hand, tears spilling. “Yes,” she whispers, her head bobbing up and down emphatically.
Luc stands and yanks her into him, and the entire backyard erupts into cheers and clapping, someone yelling, “About damn time!”
Marie is crying openly, grabbing my mom in a tight hug. Dad’s eyes are wet too, though he pretends they aren’t.
I’m clapping. Smiling. Doing all the right things. But inside, something goes sharp. He’s first. He always has been. I’m proud of him. I am. But there’s the other thought. The one I don’t want; you’ll never be that.
I turn away before it can get uncomfortable. That’s when I realize Quinn isn’t watching them. She’s watching me. Like she felt it. Like she knew exactly when something shifted.
“You okay?” she checks quietly. The noise around us blurs. Laughter. Someone yelling congratulations. Dean making some comment I don’t catch. Hayden handing Luc a drink. But Quinn’s voice cuts through it clean.
“I’m fine,” I lie automatically.
Her expression doesn’t change. “You’re not.”
I tighten my grip on the bottle. “I don’t need-”
“Don’t,” she shakes her head, softer now. “Don’t do the thing. Not right now.”
I huff out a breath that’s almost a laugh. “What thing? Standing at my brother’s engagement party like a normal human?”
She doesn’t smile. That should bother me less than it does.
“Congratulations to them,” I declare instead, forcing the words into place. “They deserve it.”
“They do.” She studies me. “But it didn’t feel good, did it?”
I snort. “Wow. Subtle.”
Her gaze holds. “Accurate.”
Something sharp flashes through me. “Stop acting like you know me.”
Her head tilts slightly. “You say that every time I get a little too close to the truth.”
My pulse spikes. My instinct is immediate; to reach for her, crowd her space, turn this into something physical so I don’t have to stand here feeling like this.
So, I do what I always do; I step in close, lowering my voice, letting the familiar tone slide into place.
“You like getting close?” I drawl. “Because I can be very good at close.”
Quinn doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t lean in. Doesn’t pull away. She just looks at me like she’s watching a trick she’s already seen.
“There it is,” she concludes quietly.
My jaw tightens. “There what is?”
“The shift.” Her voice is calm. “When you stop feeling it and turn it into something else.”
My heart kicks hard against my ribs. “That’s not what I do.” The words come out too fast. Too defensive.
Quinn’s expression softens just a fraction. Not pity. Not sympathy. Something steadier. “I’m not judging you,” she tries to clarify. “But I’m not going to be another distraction you use to prove or forget something.”
My throat works around something I don’t want there. “I have something to prove now?”
Her eyes flick back toward Luc and Lily laughing, tangled together, claiming a future without hesitation. Then she looks at me again. “Yeah,” she blinks. “You act like you to have to prove something, even when you don’t.” The words land hard enough that I actually step back.
“Fuck off,” I whisper, but it’s not anger. It’s panic.
“I’m not trying to hurt you,” she rushes out.
“Then stop,” I bite back. “Because you keep seeing things I don’t want you to.”
She doesn’t look away. “Then stop hiding behind them.”
Someone calls my name. Dean. Or Mom. Or Luc. The noise of the party surges back in all at once. I turn toward it, grateful for the interruption. When I look back, Quinn is still there. Calm. Unmoved. Not fooled.
And that’s a problem. Because suddenly, I don’t want to distract her.
I want to prove her wrong. I lift the tequila bottle and stop.
For the first time all summer, I hesitate.
That’s new. I take the drink anyway. Because that’s what I do.
Then the grin. Then the mask. “I couldn’t be happier for them. ”
Quinn’s mouth curves. Not amused. Not fooled. It’s knowing. “Yeah,” she agrees softly. “Good for them.” Then she steps away, leaving me with the taste of my own bullshit and the unsettling realization that I liked the moment she saw me too clearly.
Because I did like it. The way she saw me. And that? That’s dangerous.