Chapter 38 Quentin
THIRTY-EIGHT
QUENTIN
Spring had finally arrived, and it was like the whole world was waking up, stretching and yawning after a long nap. There were baby animals, trees shaking off their bare branches, the smell of fresh grass hanging thick in the air. Everything was new again.
And somehow, it felt like he was, too. It felt like letting in a light he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.
It was like the sun had finally reached inside him, warming the places that had been frozen over for years, thawing him out inch by inch until he could finally breathe again.
He felt like he'd come back to life, revived from a version of himself that had just been drifting through the days.
For the first time in a long while, the weight of work didn’t feel like a cement block tied to his ankle.
The director was still a grade-A diva. Tessa was still auditing everyone’s bathroom breaks.
But he didn’t care, not in the way he used to.
The things that used to spike his blood pressure now barely grazed his nerves.
Maybe it was Sadie. Okay, it was definitely Sadie.
She was still helping him rehearse, still launching popcorn at his face when he got “too Method”, still calling him “Sir Shakespeare” in a voice so mocking it could curdle milk.
And against all odds, it was working. Even Otto, the man who critiqued breathing technique, had said he was “marginally less painful to watch,” which in Otto-speak was a standing ovation.
He felt like he was starring in a full-blown rom-com montage—mornings tangled up in her, late-night movies, takeout containers piling up, kissing until they couldn’t breathe, getting distracted by each other when they were supposed to be doing literally anything else. And he loved it.
He wasn’t panicking. He wasn’t drafting imaginary breakup texts in his head or wondering when the other shoe would drop. He was just... happy. Blissed out. Maybe slightly addicted to her face.
Which was why today was torture. Sadie had her big pitch meeting with Bianca the CEO of Radiance Beauty.
He’d kept his distance, tried to give her space.
Not that she needed it. She’d pitched the product to him like forty times, and each one had him ready to invest his life savings.
The pitch was airtight. Bianca would have to be an absolute idiot not to love it.
Still, waiting was hell. He tried reading but forgot every sentence the second he turned the page. Scrolled mindlessly through his phone. Attempted to meditate for a grand total of thirty-seven seconds before giving up and pacing like a caffeinated jungle cat.
Then a knock. He flung the door open so fast it nearly rebounded off the wall.
And there Sadie was, breathless, grinning like a lunatic.
His heart did a stupid, undignified leap.
The fact that she came here first, that she wanted to share this moment with him, sent a flood of warmth through his chest.
“Went well?” he asked, attempting a casual tone, but the excitement in his voice betrayed him.
“They loved it!” She squealed, launching herself at him.
“Obviously,” he said, catching her easily.
“They need to crunch some numbers, but they said they want it,” she sighed, still glowing like a human light bulb. “Thank you again.”
He set her down, laughing. “I didn’t do anything. You’re the genius. I just existed in the background looking supportive.”
She kissed him. Quick, but electric.
“Come in,” he said. “I’m making you dinner and you’re going to tell me everything.”
“Even the part where I blacked out for ten seconds and seriously considered hurling myself into oncoming traffic?”
“Especially that part.”
“Watch it!” Quentin barked as Sadie yanked the wheel of his beloved truck like she was auditioning for The Dukes of Hazzard. They narrowly missed a tree trunk by what he estimated to be about six inches and three prayers.
“I see it,” she said breezily, like she hadn’t just tried to launch them into the afterlife with a pit stop in the emergency room.
He had no clue how she’d talked him into letting her drive. Scratch that. Yes, he did. She’d blinked at him with those big green eyes, all sweet, and said something about "trusting the journey" and now here he was, clinging to the passenger side door like it was his last chance at salvation.
They barreled down the back trail. His truck was rattling so hard he could hear screws loosening.
Meanwhile, Sadie was grinning like a lunatic, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping out a rhythm to some ungodly hyperpop song that sounded like a blender fighting a robot.
The windows rattled, the floor hummed, and the bass thumped so hard it felt like it could liquefy a spleen.
“This isn’t driving!” he shouted over the chaos, heart in his throat. “This is vehicular roulette!”
Sadie just laughed like nearly flipping a pickup was the highlight of her week. “Relax! I’m totally in control.”
Another bone-jarring bounce had him rethinking every life choice that led him here. Namely, dating a woman who drove like she’d stolen the car.
Apparently, she’d found a “hidden romantic gem” on a hiking forum.
But because hiking took “too long” and Sadie had the patience of a toddler full of sugar, she’d consulted a paper map.
Like she was a pirate. Or planning a bank heist in 1897.
Somehow, this led her to an ancient dirt road that allegedly went to a scenic overlook.
And because he was an idiot smitten beyond repair he’d said: Sure, take my truck, what could go wrong? Everything. Everything could go wrong.
The truck skidded to a gritty, teeth-rattling halt, and Quentin braced for death. Or at least a very expensive insurance claim. Instead, Sadie whooped like she’d just won a NASCAR race and slammed the truck into park.
“We’re here! If my calculations are correct,” she said, beaming.
And just like that, with one blinding smile, every insult he’d mentally drafted vanished. God help him. She could commit war crimes and he’d be standing nearby holding her purse and offering water.
“Let’s hope so, Roja,” he muttered, climbing out after her, half-expecting the truck to crumble into scrap metal behind him.
He rounded the front quickly—not just to keep up with Sadie, but to intercept her before she could swan-dive into the woods like she had a death wish. The woman had no fear. Or balance. And judging by the wild gleam in her eye, she was moments from tripping over a tree root.
She pointed ahead like an enthusiastic park ranger. “Trail’s that way. Probably.”
He stopped short. “I’m sorry, probably? You just Tokyo Drifted my truck into a pine tree. I need stronger language.”
“Oh, hush,” she said, grabbing his hand. “I got us here in one piece, didn’t I?”
“Debatable. My soul’s still lodged back there somewhere in the glove box.”
They started walking, fingers intertwined, the underbrush crunching beneath their boots.
Quentin kept one eye on the uneven ground, careful not to trip over roots or loose rocks, and the other on her, which wasn’t exactly the smartest idea, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away for long.
She looked like spring itself—wild hair that caught the light every time she moved, freckled skin kissed by the sun, and a kind of warmth that made the air around her feel brighter just by being there.
“You always hike like this?” he asked. “No water, no plan, and one extremely suspicious paper map like we’re reenacting the Oregon Trail?”
“It’s called adventure,” she replied breezily, ducking a branch. “I thought you were into that. Rugged cowboy, open skies, nature and all.”
“I like controlled adventure,” he said. “Barbecuing shirtless. Fixing tractors. Activities where my survival odds are high.”
Sadie snorted. “Fixing tractors? That’s your idea of an adrenaline rush?”
“Better than trusting my life to a woman who thought ‘this trail looks romantic’ was a good reason to risk a concussion.”
“Oh, come on,” she said, stepping over a fallen log. “Don’t pretend this isn’t worth it.”
Then the trees thinned and suddenly, the mountains sprawled out before them in gold and shadow. A ribbon of river catching the sunlight like glass, the breeze cool and clean in his lungs. Birds flitted between towering pines, their songs blending with the rustling of leaves in the warm breeze.
“Holy shit,” Sadie whispered, squeezing his hand.
He exhaled, taking it all in. The vastness, the way the air smelled clean and crisp, tinged with pine and damp earth. But more than anything, he took in her. The way her eyes lit up, wide and awed, like she was seeing something magic unfold before her.
“Guess your calculations were right,” he murmured, glancing down at her with a smirk.
She grinned up at him, smug. “Told you. But hey, feel free to apologize at any time.”
He shook his head, still smiling like a fool. “You’re insane.”
“You love it,” she said, eyes sparkling.
He leaned in, kissing her slow and sweet. “Yeah,” he murmured against her lips. “I really, really do.”
She grinned, stepping back. “Good. Now take a picture of me before I trip on a rock and ruin the moment.”
Before he could even dig out his phone, she was already moving.
She dropped her bag onto the grass like she was done with responsibility forever.
Then she was off, her eyes glinting with trouble.
He followed fast because he knew that look.
That wild, unhinged glint that usually meant one of two things: he was about to witness something amazing or get roped into something that would require medical attention.