Chapter Seventeen
The First Kiss
Damien
If someone had asked me a week ago how I imagined my first real date with Quinn Thomas would go, I probably would have come up with something a lot more dramatic.
Candles, music, and maybe some kind of cinematic sunset moment.
Instead, we’re sitting at the end of a wooden dock with our feet dangling over the edge while she tries to convince a dragonfly to land on her hand. Which, honestly? Might be better.
“Stay still,” she whispers.
“I’m not moving.”
“You’re breathing,” she accuses.
“I need to do that,” I whisper in reply.
The dragonfly hovers for a second longer before zipping away across the lake and Quinn groans dramatically.
“How rude.”
“I warned you.”
“You sabotaged it.”
“I absolutely did not sabotage an insect.”
She nudges my shoulder. “You’re a terrible accomplice.”
I chuckle quietly.
The sun sits lower in the sky now, painting the lake in soft gold and orange light. The breeze coming off the water carries the faint scent of grass and wildflowers. It’s peaceful.
Too peaceful, maybe. Because the longer we sit here the more aware I become of how close she is. Her shoulder brushing mine. Her bare feet swinging lightly over the water. The soft sound of her breathing when she leans back against her hands.
My brain is trying very hard not to overthink it but that’s difficult when the girl you’ve liked for months is sitting two inches away looking like a summer day come to life.
“So,” she says after a moment.
“So.”
“You’ve been unusually quiet.”
“I’m enjoying the view.”
She glances toward the lake. “It is pretty.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Her eyebrow lifts slightly. “Oh?”
I immediately regret saying that out loud. Smooth, Damien. Very smooth.
She turns slightly toward me. “What did you mean?”
I stare out at the water. “You know exactly what I meant.”
“Maybe I want to hear you say it.”
My heart does a strange little thump in my chest. “You look nice.”
“That’s it?”
“You look really nice.”
“Better.” She smiles. God, that smile should come with a warning label.
“You’re blushing,” she says.
“I am not!” I deny.
“You absolutely are.”
“It’s the sun.”
“The sun is behind us.”
“Technicalities.”
She laughs softly and the sound drifts across the lake like something fragile and bright.
“I like this version of you,” she says.
“What version?”
“The one that’s not hiding behind spreadsheets.”
“I don’t hide.” Do I? I didn’t think so.
“You do a little.”
“I observe.”
“Same thing.”
I glance at her. She’s watching me with that thoughtful expression again. The one that makes me feel like she’s trying to solve a puzzle.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re different than I expected.”
“How so?” I’m dying to know how she sees me.
“You’re quiet.”
“That’s not new information,” I reply with a smirk.
“But you’re also...” She hesitates, gazing out at the lake once more.
“Also what?”
“Strong.” The soft word resonates somewhere deep in my chest.
“Strong?” It isn’t what I was expecting her to say.
“You stand your ground.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“With your brothers?”
“With life.”
She nods slowly. “I noticed that.”
“Not many people do.”
“I pay attention, too.”
For a moment neither of us says anything. The water laps gently against the dock beneath our feet and a bird glides across the surface of the lake. It’s peaceful and comfortable.
Then Quinn tilts her head slightly.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You don’t have to ask permission, Quinn. Just ask whatever you want to know,” I reply honestly. “I don’t have anything to hide.”
“When did you stop being the quiet kid from high school?”
I laugh softly. “You remember that guy?”
“Vaguely. He was very skinny and awkward.”
“Yes, I was.” The thought of that young boy actually hurts, but I am not that person anymore. “And easily shoved into lockers.”
Her expression softens immediately. “That happened?”
“More than once.”
She frowns. “Who did that?”
I hesitate because the answer feels unnecessary now. But Quinn’s watching me carefully and I just said that I don’t have anything to hide.
A deep sigh leaves me before the word does. “Emette,” I say finally.
Her eyes widen. “What?” Her voice is loud in the silence.
“Yeah.” I don’t want her to make aa big deal about this. I have moved on and I do my best not to allow myself to let the memory surface.
“Damien...”
“It was a long time ago.”
“I had no idea.” She sounds sad and my heart hurts.
“Most people didn’t.”
“That’s awful.”
“It’s high school.”
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“No,” I admit. “It doesn’t.”
She studies me for a moment. “And now he avoids you.”
“Funny how that works.” A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.
“You’re not the same person anymore.”
“Neither is he.”
“Unfortunately.”
I chuckle. “That’s one way to put it.”
Quinn looks out at the lake again. “I wish I had known.”
“Why?”
“I wouldn’t have dated him.”
“That would have been unfortunate.”
“For who?”
“For the version of me that eventually got to meet you.”
Her lips curve slightly. “You’re getting smoother.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“I might,” she threatens with a smile of her own.
We fall quiet again and the sun continues drifting lower toward the horizon. Golden light stretches across the water and suddenly the moment feels different. More intimate. More aware.
Quinn shifts slightly on the dock so she’s facing me more directly.
“Do you know what I realized today?”
“What?”
“You never asked me out.”
I blink. “What?”
“This picnic. It was my idea,” she explains.
“But you agreed.” I point out.
“That doesn’t count.”
“It absolutely counts.” I argue.
She shakes her head. “You never said the words.”
“What words?”
“Quinn, would you like to go on a date with me?”
I consider that. “You’re very specific.”
“I like clarity.”
“All right.” I turn toward her fully. “Quinn.”
“Yes?”
“Would you like to go on a date with me?”
She pretends to think about it. “Hm.”
“This feels dangerous.” I narrow my eyes playfully.
“Just a second.”
“Take your time.” I deadpan.
She smiles. “Okay.”
My chest warms slightly. “Good.”
“But I have a condition.”
“Of course you do.” I roll my eyes at her the way she often does with me.
“Next time I’m bringing cupcakes.”
“That’s not a condition. It’s a lifestyle.”
“I support this lifestyle.” She laughs again.
Something changes and the laughter fades. The moment stretches. And suddenly we’re both very aware of how close we are. Her eyes drop briefly to my mouth. Then back up and my heart starts beating a little faster.
“You’re thinking about it,” she says softly.
“About what?”
“You know.”
I swallow. “Maybe.”
Her voice drops slightly. “You can kiss me.”
The permission hits me like a small electric shock. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“You just got out of a relationship.”
“That relationship ended before I left that house.”
“Still.”
She reaches out and lightly touches my hand. The contact sends a warm spark through my chest.
“Damien.”
“Yeah?”
“I wouldn’t say yes if I didn’t mean it.”
That’s all the reassurance I need. I lift my hand to her cheek slowly, giving her time to change her mind. But she doesn’t. Instead, she leans into the touch. So I close the distance between us.
The kiss is soft and careful. Just the gentle meeting of two people who’ve been circling each other for a while without realizing it.
Her lips are warm and sweet and when we pull back a second later she’s smiling.
“Well,” I say quietly. “That answers that.”
“What?”
“You’re definitely worth waiting for.”