TWENTY-THREE Quincy
It’s been a month since we started sleeping together, and we’ve found a routine.
He’s joined me on my show half a dozen times, much to the delight of my viewers.
He’ll sit next to me and jot down notes on a Post-it he shields from my view, smirking when I try to look over his shoulder and figure out what he’s writing.
I’ll catch him looking at me when I start talking about air mass, mouth a little parted, eyes a little wide. When I ask him if he’s okay, he shakes his head like he’s clearing his mind. Drapes an arm over the back of my chair, then asks people to tell him what color #Quibby shirts he should order.
We spend time with our friends in the afternoons then fall into bed together late at night. He’ll come to my place and park a street over so Harlow doesn’t spot his car. We’ll cook dinner side by side, and he always leaves a handful of ketchup packets on my counter for me to find later.
Occasionally he’ll invite me over. I’ll sneak in through the back door at Cooper’s house, keeping our voices low while Sebastian drags me to his bedroom.
And, god is it good.
The best I’ve ever had.
He got me to admit it last night, a declaration I almost screamed.
He kissed my stomach then moved his mouth lower, eyes locked on mine while he scooted down the bed. I’m going to print it on a shirt and wear it around town, he murmured.
And when people ask what you mean by best, what are you going to say? I asked when he pushed two fingers inside me, a whisper of encouragement when the stretch made me gasp.
The greatest bang of her life. A fantastic fuck, he said assuredly, no more convincing needed after he climbed on top of me and held my arms above my head.
Some nights we’ll argue about one thing or another, the disagreement turning from a debate to his hands running up my thighs.
My arms looping around his neck, easiness there when I urge him down my body.
There are nights when don’t have sex at all, turning on an old weather documentary and splitting one of Nate’s brownies until we fall asleep wrapped around each other, more content than I’ve ever been.
In the deep recesses of my brain, the place I only allow myself to go when it’s dark and the world is quiet, I admit the things I’m afraid to voice in real life out of fear they might hold too much weight: I like spending time with Sebastian.
I like that he makes me feel safe, makes me feel important.
When I’m particularly happy, I let myself recognize I have some sort of feelings for him. That I like him, and I don’t know when that changed.
The pull of something deeper than physical attraction and lust has found its way into our relationship.
I feel the slow swarm of butterflies in my stomach when he kisses me.
I feel my smiles getting bigger, my heart racing when he throws a calf over mine, pulls the covers up to my chin, and kisses the top of my head.
I think I like him a lot.
“Can we turn on some music?” Mia says from the back seat, breaking me out of my thoughts. She leans in front of Richard, adjusting the air vents so they point on her face. “If I have to listen to one more weather podcast, my ears are going to bleed.”
“The romance author doesn’t enjoy discussions about low-pressure systems? I’m shocked.” I reach for the radio dial, ignoring Sebastian’s protesting whine. “You’ll survive without it for an hour, Dunn.”
“What if I don’t? I could miss crucial information. Look at what happened in The Day After Tomorrow. I bet they wish they kept listening to weather podcasts.”
“Were weather podcasts a thing back then?” I adjust the frequency, frowning at the voice coming from the AM radio. “Hang on a second.”
“Quincy, please.” Mia groans. She rests her head on Richard’s shoulder, and I see him pat her thigh in the rearview mirror. “My brain can’t handle any more science words.”
“Two seconds, Mia. I promise.”
“… issued a hurricane watch for the Florida Keys. At eleven a.m., the center of rotation was located at …”
I dive for my phone buried in the bag at my feet. “Georgianna became a hurricane.”
“Wait. There’s a hurricane?” Cooper asks. “Since when?”
“Just now,” I say.
“And that is why we don’t turn the weather podcasts off.” Sebastian is fighting the urge to look over at the map I have pulled up on my phone. His eyes keep bouncing from the road to me, and I think he’s seconds away from pulling off the highway so he can study it too. “Give me the details, Pres.”
“Winds are peaking at eighty miles an hour right now. Currently moving northwest, but they expect more of a east-northeast track to curve it back to Florida,” I say.
“Predicted landfall?”
“Looks like we’re six days out.”
“Seems like a lifetime, but—”
“When a storm is coming, it’s like no time at all,” I finish for him.
His eyes meet mine. We’re on the same brain wave, thinking the same thing, and the corner of his mouth twitches with a smile. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”
I put my feet on the seat, drawing my knees to my chest. I catch pieces of the conversations picking up around me.
Nate tells Harlow about the fall menu he’s going to do at Whisk and Rise.
She mentions the idea of a small business crawl, a partnership between some of the nearby shops and restaurants that could join together for more foot traffic.
Mia asks Richard to open her water bottle, giggling when he spills some on her sundress.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, and she kisses her cheek.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m here with you. Nothing could ruin today,” she says.
I want to be a part of it. I want to be in the moment, but I’m distracted. Split between being here with my friends and being back in my home office with Georgianna’s trajectory broadcast on my large desktop screen.
“Hey.” Sebastian reaches over and tugs on my ponytail. “I don’t see you jumping up and down about the possibility of a hurricane being so close to the state. It’ll be prime chasing.”
“I’m fine. Nervous, I guess. The ocean waters are warm. Georgianna has so much distance to travel and plenty of time to grow.” I shrug and trace the path of the forecast model that suggests a Tampa landfall, just north of where we’re headed today. “I hate the thought of anyone being in danger.”
“It sucks that this is a side effect of living in Florida, but we did talk about this being the peak time period for storm development on The Rainy Day Show.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot you two have been teaming up lately.” Cooper puts a hand on my seat, leaning forward so he can join our conversation. “How is it going?”
Great.
We’re also sleeping together.
The things he can do with his mouth are out of this world, and it’s impossible to stay away from him.
I have this silly, stupid crush on him, and it’s only getting worse.
My cheeks heat. I wring my hands together to give myself something to do besides thinking about him in front of our friends, but Sebastian must be a mind reader.
It’s the only explanation for why he smirks.
Why he pushes his sunglasses into his hair.
Why he rests an elbow on the console between our seats, the scent of his cologne tickling my nose.
“Yeah, Pres? How is it going?” he asks.
“It hasn’t been the worst thing in the world,” I say. “The internet loves him. It makes the job more fun, and it’s nice to—”
“Nerd out with someone?” Harlow finishes for me, and I laugh.
“Exactly.”
“Social media loves you,” Mia pipes up. “I saw a video someone posted of all your sound bites combined into one clip, and it was so funny how nerdy you two actually are. But in a way where a normal person can understand? It’s cool.”
“I’m not on social media and I’ve seen the video,” Richard adds. “It’s making the rounds at work.”
“Bankers care? Wow.” Sebastian blows out a breath. “We’ve made it big, Monroe.”
“Everyone is going to be disappointed to find out this isn’t a permanent thing,” I say. “When Sebastian goes back to New York, he won’t be a regular.”
“A million hearts will break when I announce my departure.” He sighs and puts his hand over his chest, dramatic. “It’s okay. Heroes get remembered, but legends never die.”
“And the ego is back.” I grab his phone sitting on the console between us. I connect it to the aux cord and look his way. “Do you have any good music on here? Mia is right. I can’t do a weather podcast right now. Not when my life is about to be consumed by hurricane content.”
“Play whatever you want. Passcode is 8737.”
“You added a passcode?”
“I was told not having one was borderline serial killer behavior, so I made some adjustments.”
“What does it mean?”
“It’s a secret.” Sebastian grins and fixes his sunglasses back on his face, staring out at the open road. “Do you want a hint?”
“I never liked riddles.” I pick a Dashboard Confessional song and turn up the volume, the cheers from the back seat affirming my song selection. “You can keep your secrets.”
“That’s fine, but just know it’s one of my favorite things.”
We drive west, the bass thumping, the sun shining. I’m so unbelievably happy, but as I stare out at the endless blue skies ahead of us, I can’t help but think something bad is waiting for us down the road.
“Hi.” Harlow sits next to me in the sand, scooting my way so she’s shaded by the tent the boys put up for us. Her pale skin is turning pink even with the sunscreen she slathered on her body, and she shoves a floppy hat on her head to cover her face. “What are you doing over here by yourself?”
“Mia is grabbing us waters.” I gesture to the cooler where Mia stands with Nate and Cooper, eating a piece of watermelon. She laughs, the watermelon juice running down her arm, and licks it away. “Where have you been?”
“Talking to a lifeguard.” She grins and points to the large stand in the distance. “He’s twenty-three and way too perky, but very cute.”
“Well, isn’t that fun?”
“Mia looks happy, doesn’t she? And, what do you know? Richard is nowhere to be seen.”
“Har. Be nice,” I warn.