9. Forest Fire
Forest Fire
Q uinn took my hand again and led us outside, locking the door with her keys. The chill did nothing to cool the heat from her hand around mine.
Outside, there was a spacious back patio area. Stone columns led up to a ceiling made of the same oak from inside with two ceiling fans. There was another fireplace on the wall to the right with another television mounted above. A huge and expensive charcoal grill sat on the other side of the patio, and some very welcoming lounge seats sat in between.
Quinn directed us through a gate she held open but stopped me before I could step from the patio’s concrete floor. “Careful there, sweetness. I would hate for you to twist your ankles on this cobblestone path in those gorgeous heels. We aren’t going to be on it long, but watch where you step and make sure it’s in the center of the rocks, okay?”
Quinn shined her phone light on the ground. Sure enough, beyond the concrete was a path of cobblestones with grass growing in between. It was an obvious danger zone for me and my heels, but I knew this. Her knowing this was what made it special. This girl was really working hard to impress me.
And it was mad working.
Quinn took such care of me, holding my hands and keeping me steady until we reached the spiral staircase next to the cobblestone path. I’m as clumsy as a female main character in a scary movie or a romance novel. I was honestly a hazard to myself and everyone around me when I was in heels, but I couldn’t ruin my look just for the sake of safety. Fashion over function, always and forever. But as silly as that was—as Everett always reminded me—Quinn made me feel perfectly rational.
Could I be any more of a stereotype right now? Everett would never let me live this down if he knew how much of a U-Haul lesbian I was being.
The spiral staircase was narrow but solid with a railing, so Quinn let go of my hand for us to carefully make our way up. It took everything in me to not stare at Quinn’s beautiful ass. Even in the darkness of the night, her ass was large and more than a handful for me and my petite hands. I felt my face heat at the idea. Okay, seriously, what was wrong with me?
Thankfully, we soon reached the landing. It was a terrace with painted columns and waist-high iron railings in between as well as a ceiling fan above. Up here, the furniture was somehow even fancier and comfier with light blues and navy accents to match the exterior of the house. Another charcoal grill sat in the far corner, and a door led to a sunroom. Windows took up the wall across from the railing, but they were closed and I was unable to orient where this place was in relation to the rest of the house. The music inside was faint, but if I focused, I could almost make out a bass beat.
As if reading my mind, Quinn said, “I love this terrace. It’s in front of the formal living room that we never use.”
“Yeah, that’s how you can tell someone is rich. They have two living rooms, and one of those is always superfluous.”
Quinn’s smirk returned. “You’re telling me. I never understood why we have two. We are always in the den or out in the sunroom that’s next door to this. That one has?—”
“Let me guess? Another TV and fireplace?” I teased.
“Now, you’re starting to get it,” She chuckled, turning around to lean against the railing. “Anyway, I’m getting side-tracked. I didn’t bring you here to talk about living rooms and televisions?—”
“The house seems to have plenty enough of those that we don’t need to talk about it.” I leaned next to Quinn and bumped her shoulders.
That earned me another chuckle. “I came up here to show you this, my favorite spots in the whole house.”
She tilted her chin behind her. I followed her lead and gasped.
Before us stretched the backyard. The cobblestone path below veered to a stunning poolscape with a tall-as-fuck waterslide, hot tub, and a connected bonfire area, complete with a projector screen. There was also an outdoor chef’s kitchen, complete with yet another charcoal grill, lounge chairs, and swinging beds. A garden of thriving plants was off to the right. There was a court area that appeared like it could do triple duty as a basketball, tennis, and pickleball court. A paved path went to a barn near the edge of the property. I could tell that the landscapers earned their keep with the verdant, plushy grass. The hedges and bushes were well-trimmed, too. But all of this didn’t take my breath away like the view past its curated edges.
No, beyond the HGTV dream house backyard, there was a forest. Thick evergreen pine trees occupied acres upon acres. Dense and packed, I couldn’t make out anything past their needles and trunks. But what I could see past them was the sky. With no outdoor lights on, the pool lights set on their lowest setting, and the house’s windows closed, you could see all the stars perfectly.
“This is so fucking beautiful,” I said, barely above a whisper.
“It really is.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Quinn had turned around to face the scene. She pulled out a tin case with hot rod flames from her back pocket. From it, she got out a joint and a lighter. “Do you mind if I smoke?”
“Not at all.”
Quinn lit up, swirled it in the air, and then took a couple hits before ashing in a top compartment, which must be an ashtray. Smoke swirled up and around her face, and I honestly never thought weed had ever looked sexier. She asked, “Do you smoke?”
“No, not me,” I shook my head. “I love weed and everything, but I’m an edible girlie.”
“Let me guess: you tried, and you practically coughed a lung out?”
I remembered when Maisie had me and Simone try to smoke weed in high school as a celebration for getting accepted into Everlore. Simone didn’t even take a puff for fear of drying out too much or some lame excuse we still won’t let her live down. I did take a puff. I took three, actually. And every single time, I tossed myself into a coughing fit, and I barely felt a thing. I had no idea if I was inhaling it wrong, not holding it long enough, or if the blunt just wasn’t a fan of me, but I figured that maybe edibles were the best for me.
I told Quinn all of this, and she threw her head back, laughing. “I would have paid money to see that! At least you gave it a valiant effort.”
“Why, thank you. I feel so seen.”
“Have you ever tried to shotgun?”
“I haven’t, but I would love to try one day.” Then I quickly added, “Especially with the right girl.”
Quinn smirked, taking another drag. “Good to know.”
“Do you smoke often?”
“You could call me a pothead. I rarely go a day without doing at least three blunts. Smoking helps to settle my nerves and thoughts, and I like the headspace it puts me in. Same goes for Nat. We usually smoke together, but I’m sure she’s too busy hoeing her life away inside right now. When I do smoke alone, I like to come out here to stare at the stars. They are just so beautiful. They make me feel more present, you know?”
I nodded. “I know what you mean. They make you feel more in the moment. It’s crazy how something that is so large yet far away can make you feel so small yet so great. It’s… amazing.”
We were quiet then. Both of us stared at the stars while Quinn smoked her joint. Despite not touching, I could still feel her. The heat licked at my bare arms and made me shiver. I wanted to move closer to her, but I tried to suppress the urge. Instead, I downed the rest of my drink and held my elbows to keep myself in place. But now, my fingertips were more in reach of her inked skin. What all did she have tattoos of? What were their stories? Why had she gotten them? Had the tattoo artists felt how freaking warm she was?
Okay, this silence was going to drive me insane.
“Do you know any constellations?” I asked, feigning innocence.
She didn’t seem to notice my inner turmoil as she answered. “Not really. I know there’s the North Star. I know it’s easy being the brightest in the sky, but it’s the only one I know.”
“That’s okay! And that’s good! I don’t really know a lot of constellations, but I can point out the ones I know. Since you pointed out the North Star, I can tell you that the Little Dipper is right there. Do you see its handle and ladle? Oh, and if you find the Little Dipper, the Big Dipper isn’t too far away. And Orion’s Belt is just right there. Do you see them?”
She nodded, smiling brighter than the embers of her joint lighting up her face.
Not wanting to fall into the silence again—even though it was comfortable—I continued. “I know the constellation’s myths and legends, too. I’m that sort of nerd. I could honestly go on forever about Ancient Grecian stories and the stars, but I prefer to use the stars to connect and see other things.”
Quinn’s golden eyes blazed with interest. “Like what?”
“Oh, like different animals or random things! Like, over there, I can see my cat, Dinah. And there, I see a coffee mug. Oh, and there is a ukulele?—”
“I hate the ukulele. Easily the worst instrument.”
“Uh, untrue. The Timpani exists.”
Quinn chuckled. “What has the Timpani ever done to you?”
“Play literally only one note. Ever. Nothing else. At least with the ukulele, you can sing pretty much any song. The Timpani is only for like Gregorian chants and weird yoga classes with a white guy talking to me about chakras, but he was born and raised in Indiana.”
“First of all, you really took me there with that. I can smell the patchouli with an undercurrent of body odor.” Quinn chuckled again. “But back to that stupid ukulele—that’s the problem. It’s so easy anyone can play that damn instrument. That and it sounds horrible . At least the Timpani has a depth to it. The ukulele is like a novelty toy for kids.”
“I love this passionate hatred for a tiny guitar.”
“It stinks. Anyway, you were saying, about seeing things in the stars?”
I chuckled, almost forgetting what we were talking about. “I mean, I don’t really have a point or anything. I just think it’s all interesting. The constellations, their stories, and history, what they could be.”
Suddenly, watching her look at me with her bright eyes, I felt bold, warm, and comfortable. I think it was from more than just the heat coming off Quinn in waves and warming me despite the almost-autumn chill. I just felt like I was under a heated blanket after a cold, snowy day, snuggled with a good book I hadn’t started yet. I decided to confess something to Quinn that I hadn’t told anyone or even thought of in years.
“You know, when I was a kid, the whole sky looked like one of the trees behind my house. Each star connected into its own branch. Stray stars became its leaves. The trunk would reach down into our backyard, making the trees below its roots. From stars to stardust to seeds to trees to ash and back all again. It made everything feel connected and whole, a cycle that never ends. That’s what this reminds me of, my woods back home.”
When I finally stopped talking, I turned to look at Quinn. I was expecting Quinn to still be looking forward, staring at the stars like we had just been doing as she smoked. But instead, her golden eyes glowed—even brighter than the embers of her joint—even in the dark as they stared at me. Her look was intense and deep, but her smirk was… her smolder was something else entirely. Or maybe something so deeply similar I didn’t know how to react as her look set fire to my heart.
“I-I’m so sorry. When I drink, I get nervous. Especially around pretty girls. I’m sure nothing I even said made any sense?—”
“No, no, no,” Quinn interrupted. “It all made perfect sense to me. I totally get it, and it was beautifully said. I was just going to talk about how I got this telescope as a kid and my cousins broke it immediately, so I couldn’t see the stars like I wanted. But you just said this gorgeous story and made me see them like I never have. I really like that.”
I beamed at her, feeling a warmth inside that had nothing to do with alcohol or her nearness. She ruffled her curls. “Also, you think I’m pretty?”
“Don’t let it go to your head there, starlight.” I rolled my eyes but kept on smiling.
“I simply think that I’m impressing you, is all.” Her smile became downright devilish. Oh, this girl had no idea. I had mentioned that Cole was sprung, but maybe it’s me. All for a girl who was almost a stranger, but who I wanted to spend all night with.
Quinn took one final puff from her joint before she ashed and dropped it into the ashtray. She closed the tin and returned it to her back pocket. She ruffled her curls again, pushing them back and shaking her head. It was an action I was beginning to realize had to be a nervous tick of hers but one that I was starting to like a lot . I wanted to feel how fluffy her curls were. I wanted to know how close they felt to clouds in my hands. I tightened my grips around my elbows.
Turning and leaning on the railing with her elbows, Quinn looked so smooth and in her element. “Do you want another drink?”
I nodded, and she held out her hand for me. I took it happily, relishing its warmth and cozy roughness. She led us inside by going through the sunroom and into the den. We spooked some dancers leaning against the door, but they were too drunk to seriously consider our origins.
Arriving at the bar, I saw Nat standing with her back to us while Jesse was shaking a drink. When Quinn and I appeared with our hands clasped, an all too-knowing smile broke out on their face. Nat must have noticed their attention elsewhere because she turned. She beamed when she saw me hand-in-hand with her cousin.
“Oh, my god !”
Quinn flinched at Nat’s scream over the music, but there was a smile on her face that made her eyes sparkle. “Having fun tonight, Nat?—?”
“I am now! Y’all are so cute together!” she yelled with unbridled excitement. Her energy was infectious.
“Can we just get something to drink without being verbally assaulted?” Quinn asked.
“Only if you get shots !”
Quinn groaned. “You know I hate shots!”
“Oh, c’mon, Quinny! This is supposed to be your party! You have to take a shot!”
“You are such an alcoholic. This being my party is the exact reason I do not have to take a shot.”
“Uh, Quinny?” I spoke up with a teasing smile. “Are we just going to fly by that?”
Quinn groaned again, but Nat’s eyes lit up as she grabbed my elbows. “Please tell me you like shots!”
“I can take shots, but like is a strong word?—”
“I will take it! Will you take shots with me?”
“Sure!” I agreed, unable to deny that smile.
Nat squealed. To Jesse, who had been watching this whole exchange humorously, she said, “Six shots please!”
“Six?!”
“You’re right!” Nat pointed at Quinn, and then she turned back to Jesse. “Let’s make it eight so you can take them with us, baby! Oh, and get these two drinks as a chaser. You know how I like to take my shots.”
“That is not what I meant?—”
“I know Nat loves her tequila naked and warm like a newborn,” Jesse interrupted, prepping my and Quinn’s drinks while laying out eight shot glasses. “But how about you two lovebirds? What will you have?”
“I like vodka,” I answered quickly.
Quinn shook her head and sighed. “I will take bourbon.”
Nat squealed, clapping her hands and jumping. Quinn rolled her eyes, but there was still so much happiness there that she should be smiling. I could tell these two cousins were closer to sisters than anything.
Just like before, Jesse made quick work of our drinks, serving up Quinn’s gin and tonic and my fourth Mezcal Paloma within a minute. They placed our shots next to our cups as well and put Nat’s in front of her. While they were pouring some tequila into their own glasses, I raised my eyebrows over at Nat.
“You take your shots clean like that? And you said girls who liked Mezcal have trauma.”
“Oh, I like this one. She gets it. I have trauma and drama. I will have to tell you all about it one day. Now, let’s do this.” Nat raised her shot glasses, and Quinn, Jesse, and I did the same. She declared, “To the end of Quinn’s endings and a new beginning with a beautiful sunshine queen to make sure Quinn never sees the dark ever again!”
“God, you are fucking toasted, dude. That was some of the gayest shit I’ve ever heard.”
“Shut up, Quinn Garcia. I love you! Now, drink!” Nat said before tapping her shots on the counter and tossing them back. The rest of us followed suit. Despite opening my throat, I still felt the burn immediately coat my throat on the first shot. It felt like I had added gasoline to the flame with the second. The Mezcal Paloma seemed to stoke it even further, but the smoky, fruity flavor seemed to cool things enough. I started to feel a subtle numbness in my fingers and toes, the kind I felt when drunkenness was encroaching.
“Yay! That was so fun!” Nat clapped again. Quinn shook her head, her delicious curls wafting that citrusy aroma straight into my nose. She gave her cousin a look over my head that, while containing annoyance, also had a measure of affection. It was so cute.
Quinn was so cute.
Oh, no. I was drunk .
Suddenly, the DJ’s voice came on over the music. His voice reverberated through the mansion’s walls, practically shaking them. “Okay, y’all! It’s about to be cuffin’ season soon, so how about we play the anthem of it with some Queen Bee!” He transitioned to the one and only “CUFF IT” by Beyoncé, and it was my turn to squeal and jump.
“Omg, I love this song! We have to dance to it! Can we please go dance to it together? Please?” I begged Quinn.
Quinn laughed. “Of course we can.”
I downed my drink in three massive sips and put the cup on the bar. I saw Jesse and Nat raise their eyebrows out of the corner of my eye, but I was tunnel-visioned on just one person. I took Quinn’s hand and pulled her behind me onto the dance floor. As soon as we got there, I turned and danced.
Maybe it was the alcohol heating my stomach. Or maybe the girl before me, watching me dance with eyes as rich and shining as a chocolate diamond in the sun, dancing along with me. Or maybe it was Beyoncé singing about wanting to party. But I didn’t feel the same awkwardness in my body I felt before. I felt sexy and empowered, swaying to the beat. I sang the lyrics at the top of my lungs when the DJ cut the music for folks to sing. I felt free. I could feel the music pounding in my chest, but I actually didn’t mind it now. I was caught up in the lyrics and sex appeal that only Queen Yoncé could radiate. It made me bolder, more settled, and definitely more fun. If anyone thought I was off beat, dancing poorly, or singing out of key, I could not care less. All that mattered was in front of me.
And she was staring at me with that smoldering look that made the birds in my stomach evolve into full-fledged dragons straight from a romantasy.
“All right, that’s what I’m talking about. Let’s keep the party going!” The DJ interjected at the song’s end. He somehow transitioned “CUFF IT” into the thumping bass and guitar chords of DJ Khaled and Rihanna’s “Wild Thoughts,” and it worked.
I twirled in front of Quinn. Just when Rihanna came in, I did a fun teasing move, shimmying and beckoning Quinn over to me while I sang along, my eyes never leaving hers. “I don’t know if you could take it! Know you wanna see me nakey, nakey, naked?—”
Quinn’s eyes lit up at my words. I think I could find her eyes even in the darkest cave. Especially with how vibrant they were right now. They were like a lighthouse guiding me to shore.
Quinn downed her cocktail in a couple gulps and strode over to me. Before the chorus could even start, she wrapped her arm around me and pushed her hand against my back to bring me right against her. I gasped at the abruptness, but I settled my arms on her shoulders. She tossed her empty cup to the floor.
“Oh, no, your drink—” I was about to protest. Before I saw the ice and cup get stepped on by partygoers, Quinn took my chin between her finger and thumb and turned me back to her.
“Fuck the drink.” Somehow, this close, we didn’t have to shout to hear each other. Even if I wanted to hear the music, I couldn’t. It was like the world fell away as we stood like this, neither of us swaying to the beat anymore.
“I think a girl you just met isn’t worth ruining your living room floor,” I joked, but it felt weak. My heart was beating at least a thousand beats per minute. I couldn’t take my eyes away from hers of liquid gold staring down at me. Especially not as those same eyes zeroed in on my lightly parted lips.
Her thumb reached up from my chin and ran it over my bottom lip. I was suddenly very grateful Maisie magicked all of my lipsticks and lip gloss to have no transfer without a makeup wipe.
“Well, you haven’t met the girl, then.”
Then Quinn leaned in and kissed me.
Quinn kissed me.
Like, really, kissed me.
I closed my eyes and melted into it. Her lips were so soft and smooth against mine. Maddeningly, her lips were cool, so unlike her hand hot on my jaw or her other hand pushing me impossibly close into her or the electricity crackling between us. Her kiss was delicate and sweet. It was a caress against my lips, but also a question whispered on rose petals and silk.
Unable to resist anymore, I snaked one of my hands up her neck into her curls. They became entangled and buried. Her curls were just as fluffy and soft as I thought they would be. I wanted to twirl my fingers through each curl. As I answered her questioning kiss by pulling her head closer against my own, I realized I wanted to bury my hands elsewhere, too.
Quinn deepened the kiss, her lips pressing harder against my own, and I matched her fervor. On her lips, I could taste the lime from her drink alongside the smokiness from her joint. I wondered how her tongue would taste, if she could lift me up, if she would mind that I was a bit of a pillow princess, but I loved to give as much as I took.
I wondered if she would still think I was a girl worth spilling drinks on a mansion floor for, or if she would drop me like her drink after she got to know me.
I broke our kiss at the thought. It was like a cold shower. Where had that thought even come from? Why can’t I just enjoy a moment without intrusive thoughts about the future ruining it?
“Are you okay?” Quinn asked. I opened my eyes to see her brows as furrowed as mine. This close, I saw a few lines etched between her eyebrows that seemed to appear only when her face was worried like this. I wanted to smooth them with my fingers. It made my heart squeeze. “I-I’m sorry if I overstepped or something. I just thought?—”
“Don’t do that,” I said, breathless from the kiss. “Don’t make this your fault. It’s mine. I-I have… I get in my head easily. But this night so far has been the best date I’ve had… Probably ever? So, I… I just don’t want to ruin this. I don’t want to mess this up. I want to do it right. B-But I don’t want you to hate me or think I’m weird or whatever?—”
“Now, you stop,” Quinn interrupted, cradling my face in both her hands to make me focus on her rather than my spiraling thoughts. There was a fierceness in her eyes I hadn’t seen from her yet. I was surprised there was more fire in her that she was holding back from me. “There is nothing wrong with wanting to take your time. You only get one first date, right? I’m happy this is the best first date for you because it’s the best one for me, too. I don’t want to ruin this either?—”
“I’m a demisexual,” I blurted.
“What?”
“I’m a demisexual,” I repeated. “It means that I need to get to know someone and fall in love with their personality before I usually find them attractive. I have to form an emotional bond with them… before I can have sex with them.”
Quinn’s slitted eyebrow raised. “Okay, that’s?—”
“Weird? Strange? Stupid?”
“Really cute, actually, and romantic.”
“Oh, well, everyone says I’m a hopeless romantic, so it’s good to know I’m on brand,” I said, giving her finger guns, of all things. I immediately cringed. I was drunk as hell, and I could hear it in my voice. When I drink this much, the filter not only comes off, but I also get really?—
“I don’t normally do any of this on a date. I like to talk things out and get to know a girl. But you are really stinking hot with your ass and boobs and those gorgeous eyes. I also really liked that kiss. You are just so sexy to me, and I have never felt like this about anyone before.”
Complimentary . I flood people with compliments when I’m this drunk.
Quinn raised both of her eyebrows, now with a smirk dancing on her lips. “You are plastered right now, aren’t you?”
“No! I’m being completely subjective—no, wait. Objection. Wait, that’s not right either,” I stuttered on. I would like to implode now, please. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with me like this right now. This is not like me.”
Quinn smiled. “Hey, drunken mouths speak sober truths. But I would like to find out what is like you.”
Suddenly, the music came rushing in upon us, or maybe my brain tuned back into it. Either way, it was too loud, the dance floor too crowded. I was over the party.
“Can we get out of here? Someplace where we can talk more? Without screaming at each other?” I yelled.
A smile grew on Quinn’s face, and she gripped me tighter and even closer. “I know just the place.”
I leaned on Quinn as she guided us back toward the bar. The bar was a little less crowded now with more folks on the dance floor. Quinn stopped us before we reached the bar. Directly in my ear, she said, “Put your arms around my neck.”
I furrowed my brows. “Why?”
“It’s going to be more comfortable if you do.”
I looked at her, still confused, but I did wrap my arms around her neck. Suddenly, she bent down and effortlessly scooped me up into her arms. I squeaked in shock.
“I told you it would be more comfortable,” she said into my ear again. She continued on, her breath hot and tickling my ear. “Also, as much as I like seeing your face all cute and curious like that, I don’t like being questioned. You can consider this a warning of sorts.”
Quinn kissed my temple then, and I did what I could to ignore the dragons in my stomach roaring at the sweetness. No one had ever been able to lift me like this. This felt like uncharted territory, but I couldn’t help but love it. I tightened my grip around Quinn’s neck.
I asked, “How in the world can you lift me?”
“I work out. A lot . I have to for my line of work.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Working real estate is that physically demanding?”
Quinn furrowed her brows, those tiny lines returning again. She opened her mouth to say something when I heard Jesse’s laughter in front of us.
“I told Nat that she couldn’t handle two shots.”
Quinn rolled her eyes. “Can you let us through, Jess? I’m going to take her to the Barn to sleep this off.”
“Oh, sure. I bet y’all will be doing a lot of sleeping, huh?” Jesse winked my way as they unclasped the rope blocking off the kitchen. Quinn rolled her eyes again as she entered and kept going through the chef’s kitchen toward a door on her left. Jesse called behind us, “Don’t you two do anything that I would do!”
Quinn shut the door behind her with her foot and yet another eye roll.
We made our way through the laundry and mudroom—both of which were the size of my bedroom and bathroom combined—until we reached another door. This led to the biggest garage I had ever seen with at least six vehicles inside, not even including the recreational vehicles like the orange and blue Slingshot. Quinn carried me to a Polaris with a red and black plaid trim. She opened the passenger door and placed me inside. She buckled me in before she pulled some blankets from a compartment in the back. After bundling me up, Quinn ran to the driver’s side.
When she had started the overpowered golf cart and was waiting for the garage to open, I remarked. “You know, I may be smashed, but I can still take care of myself.”
“I know you can.” Quinn reversed and pulled out of the garage, whipping the tiny vehicle around. “But you are precious, all bundled up like that. You look like a cozy burrito.”
The garage door closed behind us as Quinn drove us onward. The vehicle was like an extension of herself. I knew we were doing a lot of firsts tonight, but I don’t think anyone has ever turned me on just by driving before.
I squeezed my thighs together under the blankets. How was I the one who wanted to slow things down, but am still so very horny for this girl?
We pulled up to the barn I had seen from the terrace earlier. After parking and turning the cart off, Quinn jogged around to retrieve me, picking me up to carry me to the entrance. She only sat me down to get her keys out. As her keys jingled in the lock, I heard the distinct sound of barking on the other side of the door.
Quinn turned and smiled at me sheepishly. “Uh, how do we feel about dogs?”
“Um, I fucking love dogs,” I answered. I actually preferred dogs to cats, but Everett was very anti-dog. Something about dogs not getting along with birds and cats, let alone a literal combination of the two.
Quinn’s shoulders relaxed instantly. “Great! This would have been really weird otherwise.” She opened the door fully, and a chocolate fluff leapt into my arms. The brown fuzzball wagged their stubby tail in my arms, licking my chin for kisses.
“Byrd, meet Clarkson. Her full name is Kelly Clarkson Garcia, but that’s only if she’s being bad. She’s a four-year-old Boykin Spaniel, and she’s my goodest girl.”
Between her licks and my giggles, I asked, “Kelly Clarkson?”
“She’s the best singer of all time. I had to name my daughter after her. After all, Clarkson is gorgeous and talented, just like Kelly.”
I sat Clarkson on the ground, and she immediately took off around the property. Quinn laughed. “Looks like she has the zoomies. She was only locked up for, like, a couple hours.”
Clarkson raced around the barn twice before coming to a stop in front of me in full play position, giving me a chance to actually look at her. She had long floppy ears with curly chocolate hair just like her Mama, but hers had cute bows on each ear. Her muzzle was long, and her eyes were brown as well. She came up to mid-thigh for me when she was standing on her two back paws. Her collar was a bright lilac with another bow on it.
I don’t think I have loved another creature at first sight since Dinah chose me.
We let Clarkson do her business before the three of us made our way into the Barn. Inside, the decor screamed barndominium with its wooden rafters, industrial lighting, and farmhouse chic furniture and appliances. It was cozy, bright, and lovely, reminding me of shopping at Target and making me even more comfortable. The Barn, as Quinn introduced and her cousins called it, was a two-bedroom apartment on the property that Quinn’s parents had gifted her when she turned fifteen. It was large and luxurious, with a seventy-five-inch TV, owner’s suite with a spa-like ensuite, chef’s kitchen, and an outdoor area with seating, a fire pit, another freaking charcoal grill, and a hammock.
“Y’all sure do love your charcoal grills.”
“We’re from Austin, Texas. Gas grills are like a sin there. Besides, the food tastes better on a ‘coal grill. If I wanted to cook with gas, I would simply just cook inside. I will have to cook for you sometime for you to taste the difference.”
We took off our shoes at the door and plopped on the couch. Quinn stretched out with her long legs on the chaise and one arm across the back. I laid on the same couch facing the opposite direction with my feet resting next to Quinn. Her eyes glinted before she pulled me by my feet to let them rest in her lap. I squealed, but she just laughed at the noise. Seeing that we were comfortable, Clarkson jumped onto the couch and curled up on top of me, immediately falling asleep. My heart melted like butter in Georgia summer.
Quinn and I spent the rest of the night like that. She smoked a few more joints, opening the windows and turning on the ceiling fan with a smart device to make sure the smell didn’t linger too long, not that I minded the smell. I only drank the ice water she offered me, helping me sober up and be way less embarrassing.
We watched scary horror movies and nostalgic old rom-coms together, switching between them all night. During the movies, her hand would stay on my feet, kneading the bottom of them where I was sorest. She was so attentive, the perfect host. Quinn’s vibe and just her everything made me feel like I was watching my favorite movie.
Throughout the movies—never during the best parts—we would talk about everything and nothing at all. We asked each other questions about our favorite movies, foods, books, shows, and music. We talked about where we wanted to travel to most, celebrities we wanted to meet—shocker that Kelly Clarkson was her number one—things we wanted to do, and goals we had. The both of us even played Would You Rather, which devolved into stupid questions to make each other laugh even harder. Neither of us mentioned sleep, nor did either of us let a yawn slip out. I think we were both scared to wake up and this to be just a forgotten dream.