FIFTEEN Quincy
Mia
Game night tomorrow night, everyone?
That sounds fun. I’ve been tracking a wave off the coast of Africa, and I could use the break.
Sebastian
Think it’s going to turn into Franklin?
Maybe? The water is prime for development.
Harlow
Can you two keep the weather nerdiness to a separate chat?
Sorry!
Nate
Why did I get added to a group text message?
Mia
Because you’re our friend and we love you.
Nate
When it comes to three dozen text noti?cations, I’d rather not be your friend.
Cooper
Ignore him. He hasn’t found an assistant to help out at the bakery yet, and he’s grumpier than usual. I’m in for game night. I’ll bring pizza.
Harlow
I have the alcohol covered.
Mia
Richard is going to join us!
Can I request a cupcake from you, Nate?
Maybe a red velvet one?
Nate
Will it get me out of showing up tomorrow?
I don’t think it works like that. Sorry.
Nate
Fine. But I’m not happy about any of this.
Sebastian
I’m ecstatic enough for the both of us.
Game night turns out to be a horrible idea.
The friend group might be broken. Fingers are being pointed. A war is imminent, and I can’t stop laughing.
We split into two teams for charades, the Dunns and the Not Dunns.
Nate is acting as referee, but he’s useless, spending most of the night with his nose buried in his phone.
Cooper, Harlow, and I are getting our asses handed to us, and the tension in the living room increases every round.
A bowl of chips gets knocked off the coffee table.
Too much alcohol is consumed. We reach a breaking point after Mia correctly guesses Sebastian’s clue in only three seconds, and Harlow calls for a time-out.
“This is bullshit. Y’all are clearly cheating.” She crosses her legs on the couch and scowls at our opponents. “We need new teams. People who share DNA shouldn’t be allowed to gang up on the rest of us.”
“The Dunns are victorious yet again.” Mia plants a kiss on Richard’s cheek, and he pushes his glasses up his nose. “Well, the Dunns and one Reynolds.”
“Soon to be two Reynolds.” Richard wraps an arm around Mia’s shoulders, pulling her to his side. “You’ll have to come up with a new team name after the wedding. Sorry, Sebastian.”
“Dude. I have no emotional attachment to this game whatsoever. We could be the Penis Pilots for all I care,” Sebastian says.
“I’ll probably still use Dunn.” Mia takes a bite of pepperoni pizza and dabs her mouth with a napkin. “It’s what’s on all my books. It’s how most of the people in my life know me.”
“Hang on.” Richard frowns and leans forward, looking at her. “You’re not going to take my name?”
“I mean, legally, I will. My driver’s license and passport will say Mia Reynolds. But for writing purposes? For social media? I planned to keep referring to myself as Mia Dunn.”
“But you’ll be my wife.”
“Yes,” Mia agrees with a smile. She pats his khaki-pants-covered thigh. “I’ve built a name for myself as a bestselling romance author, and I’m not ready to give that up.”
“It’s just a name on a book,” Richard says.
“Exactly.” Cooper clears his throat. He brings his beer to his mouth and takes a long sip, his eyes locked on Richard. “It’s just a name on a book. What’s the big deal if Mia wants to keep it the same?”
“Can we talk about something else?” Mia sets down her pizza and clasps her hands together. “Like how we need more chips? I’m so sorry for the mess, Quin.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back with fresh snacks.” I grab the bowls and stand, glad to have an escape from the awkward conversation. “Does anyone need anything else?”
“I’ll grab some more beers.” Sebastian wraps his hand around the necks of four empty bottles. “As long as everyone promises to take an Uber home tonight. No driving.”
“Lucky for me, I live right next door. I’d like a whiskey, please,” Harlow calls out. “With extra ice. And extra whiskey.”
“Make that two,” Nate adds, finally looking away from his phone screen, and I laugh down the hall.
“Do you think Cooper has a crush on my sister?” Sebastian asks when we round the corner into my kitchen.
“What?” I set the bowls on the counter and strain to reach the top shelf of the pantry. “Where would you get that idea?”
“Did you miss that interaction with Richard?”
“That’s how Coop is. He’s protective of the people in his life. He and Mia have been friends for years, but he’d do the same for any of us.”
“Earlier, when Richard stepped outside for a work call, Coop sat next to her on the couch.”
“Ah, yes. The telltale sign of any sort of attraction is how close someone sits to another human on the couch.”
“You know what I mean.”
“We’re talking about Mia, right? The woman with the engagement ring on her finger?
Who’s been writing her fiancé’s name in her journal for the last four years and dedicated her most recent book to him?
” I grab the chips and rip open the bag, dumping them in the bowl. “I’m pretty sure she’s spoken for.”
“What if Cooper and Mia dated and broke up? That would make things fucking weird and—”
“In what world would those two date? She and Richard are—”
“I’d have to pick a side. I’d be so mad at them for making me decide who I liked more.”
“It’s a good thing Mia is a thirty-year-old woman who can make her own decisions.
It’s also a good thing you’re not overreacting to an entirely hypothetical situation.
” I grimace when the top of the salsa jar refuses to open on the first try.
“Men and women are allowed to be friends without having a sexual relationship. Look at me and Nate. We’re not sleeping together. ”
“You and I aren’t sleeping together either.”
“Thank goodness for that.”
Sebastian laughs and leans against the counter, watching me struggle. “Need some help?”
“Nope.” I grit my teeth and attempt to turn the top again. “I’m perfectly capable.”
“I know you are, but when you’re ready to admit defeat, I’m right here. Willing and able to assist.”
“I’m an independent woman.” I close my eyes and twist the jar one more time. There’s a callus on my palm. My hand cramps. It finally pops open, and I grin. “There we go.”
“Attagirl.” He leans forward and swipes his finger through the salsa. He brings his hand to his mouth, swallowing the bite. “Delicious.”
“You are disgusting.” I bump him out of the way with my hip and dump the contents in a small bowl. “Please go away.”
“I’m having too much fun.” Sebastian steals the jar from me and dips his finger back in. I’m going to have to sanitize the entire kitchen. This time, he holds his hand up to my mouth. The dare hangs between us, a twinkle in his eye as he watches me. “Want some?”
I know what he’s doing. He’s been doing it for years, pushing me until he finds the point where I push back. He doesn’t think I’ll cave, but I’ve always loved to prove people wrong.
Keeping my eyes on him, I grab his wrist and bring his hand closer. His cocky smile falters when I open my mouth and wrap my lips around his finger. I drag my tongue over his knuckles, taking my time to swallow the salsa.
I’m expecting one of his comebacks. I’m waiting to see what he says when I pop his finger out of his mouth, but for the first time in his life, Sebastian is silent. His attention is fixed on my cheek, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he finally lets out a breath.
“You missed some.” It’s raspy, hoarse. He uses his thumb to wipe away a rogue piece of tomato from my bottom lip. He lingers there for a beat then pulls back, blinking out of a trance. “There we go. That’s perfect.”
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“I don’t know.” Another bob of his throat. Want behind his heavy-lidded eyes. “But I don’t want to stop.”
Our gazes collide. I’m seconds away from parting my lips again, from tipping my head to the side, an invitation there, but a round of laughter from the living room makes us jump apart. It makes me fan my face and wonder why the hell I want to grab his shirt and bring his body back to mine.
“I should—” I shift away. I gesture to the counter. “Food. Friends. Hosting.”
Sprinting out of my own kitchen would make me lose my dignity, so I scoop the bowls off the counter with as much poise as I can muster. I walk down the hall at a casual, even pace, the weight of his attention following me as I go.
“More food!” Mia helps me set the bowls down, moving a coaster out of the way to make room for the salsa. “I told Harlow it looks like it’s going to storm. I figured you’d probably want to watch the clouds roll in, so we hit pause on the game.”
I smile. To be known is to be loved, and my friends know me better than anyone else in the world. “I thought I heard thunder. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I slip outside, watching lightning flash in the distance. Down the porch steps and I’m on the sidewalk, my blood humming as light rain starts to fall.
I breathe out, relaxing. Needing a minute to get my head on straight, because I think I was seconds away from kissing Sebastian Dunn, and I don’t know what that means.
Another exhale, and my shoulders loosen. I’ve spent hundreds of hours out here contemplating. Weighing big life decisions and celebrating inconsequential moments, the dark grays of an approaching storm my solace. The precipitation a cleanser, the slate wiped clean so I can try again tomorrow.
The click of the front door opening interrupts my calm. I know who it is without turning around, but I spin anyway, the earth rumbling under my feet with another roll of thunder.
“Hey.” Sebastian watches me. “My phone said there’s lightning in the area. Are you sure you want to be out here? Someone got struck in Altamonte Springs last week.”
“I’m paying attention. The storm is about eight miles away and moving fast. Should be out of here soon.”
He scrubs a hand over his face. The muscles in his jaw work, and he sighs. “There’s no use arguing with you, is there?”
“No.” I give him a bright smile and hold out my hands, drops of water landing in my palms. “But thanks for trying to babysit me.”
“If the lightning gets within five miles, I’m dragging you back inside. I’ll put you over my shoulder if I have to.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time.” Sebastian sticks to his word, not bothering to put a fight. He offers me one last look and turns for the house, his hand on the doorknob. “Be careful, Quincy. Please?” he says, slipping back inside.
The door snicks shut and I stare at the spot where he stood, confused.
His concern is new, but I don’t let myself linger on it.
I move my attention up, tilting my head and watching lightning spiderweb across the sky.
Another bolt reaches from the clouds to the ground, and the thunder that follows makes me jump.
There’s electricity in the air, and I rub my hands down my arms, knowing it’s time to tap out.
The distance is too close for comfort, and I slink back inside to safety, finding everyone where I left them.
I lean against the entryway into the living room, watching my friends.
It’s hard for all of us to get together.
Coordinating six different schedules—seven, if you count Richard—is difficult, and I take a beat to soak up the moment.
Cooper and Nate stand in front of the television, having an argument about a trade that sends a really important hockey player to a team in DC while DC gives up a really not important hockey player.
Richard paces in the corner, phone pressed to his ear and deep in conversation.
Mia is on her back on the couch, her head in Harlow’s lap and a large book in her hands.
And Sebastian …
Sebastian is nowhere to be found.
I don’t know why that stings.
“We pulled out your yearbooks.” Mia taps the glossy pages and laughs. “Boy, were we pieces of work. Teenagers look much different these days.”
“The braces were a terrible phase,” Harlow agrees. “Except for Nate. Nate can’t take a bad picture to save his life.”
“Not true.” Nate rolls his eyes. “The one on the crew team page is horrendous. No one should share an up-close image of a guy in tight spandex. My dick is like a beacon.”
“It’s a nice dick,” Cooper says.
“As much fun as it is to talk about Nate’s genitalia, I need to get some sleep.
” Harlow wiggles out from under Mia, straightening her skirt when she stands.
“I have a meeting with a tax guy in the morning, and falling asleep in the middle of his presentation probably isn’t professional. Appreciate the recommendation, Nate.”
“Happy to help.”
“I should go too.” Cooper yawns. “I’m on the early shift tomorrow morning, and the days I don’t get enough sleep are always the ones with the most calls.”
Mia slinks over to Richard, whispering something that makes him nod and end his call. “Text me if you want to grab lunch tomorrow, Quin. I’m going to need to take a break around noon,” she says. “We could go to that place on the lake and sit outside.”
“You know the way to my heart.” I smile and dole out hugs to almost everyone, opting to give Richard a pat on his shoulder. “Thanks for coming, y’all.”
The full round of goodbyes takes ten minutes. When the last person leaves—Nate, who grumbles under his breath when his Uber driver pulls up in a Toyota Camry with a broken taillight—I let out a breath.
The house is quiet. An absolute disaster with dirty dishes on the coffee table and empty pizza boxes on the kitchen table, but I sigh, my heart full after a night with my favorite people.
I pop in an AirPod and hum along to a pop song, heading back to the living room to start cleaning up. I stop in my tracks when I find Sebastian scooping a napkin off the floor, a trash bag in his hand.
“You’re still here?” I ask, pausing my music. “I thought you left.”
“Without helping you clean up?” An empty plastic cup is next to be tossed in the bag. “You shouldn’t have to do this by yourself.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Neither do I.”
Silence wedges its way between us. He moves to the television console and discards a pair of beer bottles.
“Thank you,” I say.
“You look like you’re walking better.” Sebastian lifts his chin in my direction. “How is your ankle?”
“I’m not running from a tornado anytime soon, but it’s much better. Are you— Did you want …” I swallow. A question bubbles to the surface, waiting on the tip of my tongue. It slips out, my words loose and risky. “Do you want to stay?”
He tilts his head, assessing me. “Do you want me to stay?”
I don’t let myself overanalyze it. I don’t let myself ask why. I don’t question what might have changed between us to make me not eager to say goodbye to him just yet, wanting a little more time without anyone else around.
I give him a nod, decision made. Maybe the universe knew we’d get here long before we did, but as I stare back at him, it feels unbelievably right.
“Yeah,” I say. “I do.”