Chapter 23
She remembers me.
For a while, I worried she didn’t. It’s not like we were friends back then, but I still knew her. Watched her more than I should have. I meant what I said to her tonight—she’s always intrigued me. Then, now, in the future.
Regrets aren’t my specialty. I don’t believe in allowing the choices we make in the past to carry weight in the present.
They become excuses for bad behaviour or missed opportunities, and it gets too easy to repeat the same mistakes because, well, it’s happened before, right?
You either grow as a person or you don’t. It’s as simple as that.
With Quinn, though, I do have one. She’ll never admit it to me, but I know the people I hung around with in high school were rude to her and her friends.
The company she kept was far better than mine.
I allowed myself to sit back and stay quiet because I hated making waves, especially knowing I was so close to getting out of town and starting fresh playing college ball.
Thinking back on it now, I hate that I didn’t risk it just once.
I have no way of truly knowing if a scolding from me would have had everyone leaving her alone.
Still, I should have tried. It doesn’t matter that it’s been over a decade by now.
The mistreatment that I sat back and allowed has done damage between us now.
It’s lingering like a foul smell, and I don’t blame her. Not one fucking bit.
Insecurity is a poisonous disease, and once you become infected, you lose your grip on who you are.
I’ve watched it happen repeatedly, back in school, throughout my stint in Triple-A, and in the MLB especially.
Women like Quinn don’t come around often, and I can’t for one second blame anyone for finding themselves intoxicated by her.
Jealousy latches onto them, and once those claws are inside, there’s no shaking them free.
That’s the reason the girls in school bugged her so much and why the guys acted out in her presence. She intimidated and enthralled them at the same time. Their every flaw was magnified around her, and they were right to feel that way.
There hasn’t been a single day that I haven’t felt like I paled in comparison to Quinn, but instead of letting that turn into resentment, I use it as a chance to be better. Because fuck if I’m not going to try to win her over, even though I’m well aware that she’s way too good for me.
Even leaning over my kitchen island with bags under her eyes and a set of oversized, silk-like PJs covering her gorgeous body, she’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
She ignores the way I’m staring at her like I want to lift her onto the expensive marble and turn her into what I know will be my favourite meal and focuses on sipping her tea.
Peppermint with a drop of honey and a squeeze of lemon.
I’ve made a mental note to stock up for as long as she’s staying here. The few bags I have left from when my parents stayed here for a couple of nights last month won’t last. Not if I can pull off convincing Quinn to stay a few extra nights.
“They’re going to drag their feet. I’ve already been blown off twice today, and the longer I wait, the more money I lose by staying closed,” she says a beat later.
The steam curling in the air above her mug changes direction when she exhales hard, nostrils flaring.
“I’ve got employees to take care of, not to mention my actual home. I’m too old to be couch hopping.”
I don’t tell her that technically she isn’t couch hopping because first, she isn’t sleeping on my couch, and second, she isn’t going to stay with anyone else but me. Common sense tells me it isn’t the time to poke at her.
Digging my elbows into the island, I stare into her wandering eyes. “My uncle owns a reno company. If you’re not opposed, I can ask him to come out tomorrow morning and at least take a look. Who’s your insurance through?”
She rattles off the name before adding, “I’d appreciate that, actually. Once the adjuster takes a look, it might be a good idea to have someone else do the work in case they try and take their time getting that done, too.”
“He’ll give you a good deal, too.” I might have to do some begging, but it’ll be worth it.
Her eyes narrow slightly. “You won’t butt your head in, though? If I actually do use him, that is. I don’t want you to pay for anything, Beck.”
“Yeah, of course not.”
“Beck,” she barks, clearly not buying my flippant tone.
My smirk forms on its own. “What?”
“I’m serious. I’m already staying here for free when I could be paying to be in a hotel.”
“You’re not paying me, Quinn.”
Suddenly, we’re in a very heated staring contest. She’s glaring so beautifully, but it’s not intimidating in the slightest. And when I grin in response, the intensity cranks up.
That familiar crackle of heat between us begins to roar, and I nearly give in, spreading my hands until I’m pressing both palms into the cool marble.
On the other end of the island, she keeps a firm grasp on the handle of her mug.
“Do I look like a freeloader to you?” she asks, anxiety obvious in her tone.
“No. But I can tell you exactly how I do see you, if that will help.”
She blushes all the way to the deep blue beneath her eyes. “That’s not necessary.”
I keep one hand flush to the island when I move around it.
She loses the staring contest when her eyes fall to my fingers, watching them travel across the marble.
I ignore the tightness in my crotch that begins to ache deeper the closer I get to her.
Her perfume hits me before the warmth of her body does.
I’ve gone slow, watched and learned how she reacts to my closeness, the subtle touches I give her.
She’s yet to tell me off for brushing her skin with my knuckles or inhaling her scent, so I’ll take the risk of pushing it a bit further.
Hearing her talk about her grandmother and opening up to me tonight, even just enough to give me a sliver of insight into her past, was a step in the right direction.
It’s given me too many ideas, and there’s only one way to know for sure if they’re the wrong ones.
The hitch in her breath comes first. My free hand lands on her waist, and I keep it there, watching as she lifts her gaze and finds mine waiting.
I almost moan when I see just how strongly my touch affects her.
To see it from a distance is one thing, but to watch as her eyes bore into mine with such open desire .
. . I dip my fingers into the silk at her hip and scrunch it in my fist.
“When I look at you, I see someone who has never had anyone else take care of her. I see independence and the certainty that you know what you need and how to get it for yourself. And I won’t lie to you and say that I don’t want to be the one to show you just how fucking fun it would be to let me help you.
I’ve got big shoulders, baby. I can carry some of that weight for a few minutes every day. All you’ve got to do is let me.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe. But I’m also stubborn, romantic, and one hell of a kisser.”
Her laugh is so soft it’s almost a giggle. The noise embarrasses her, but she doesn’t pull away.
“Romantic, hmm? If you’re so perfect, why are you single?”
“Very, actually. You need someone to carry you over puddles or buckle the straps of your heels, I’m your guy. I’ll stand outside Blank Page with a boom box if it’ll have you laughing like that again.”
The soft, curious feel of her fingers against the front of my shirt makes my brain misfire. I groan, unable to trap the reaction. She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth when she hears it, and I pray to a god I don’t believe in that she isn’t going to stop touching me because of it.
My skin burns beneath my shirt. The only functioning part of my brain is telling me to strip off the annoying barrier so that she can touch me properly.
I’d drop to my knees right here and fucking beg for her to do it if I didn’t think that would spook her.
Instead, I bite down on my tongue until it throbs and hold myself still.
Her red lashes are bare as they whisper across the thin skin beneath her lowering eyes. They travel across the length of my shoulders, then dip to my chest, where she’s pinching the fabric now, rubbing it between her fingertips.
“Is this about the chase?” she murmurs, voice strained. “Once I say yes, is that going to be it?”
“No. Not a fucking chance.”
“I’m not looking for a relationship. I don’t have the bandwidth for one right now, and I doubt you do, either.”
“So we don’t have one, then.”
She slides her hand up beneath my shirt.
I lean against the island, sucking air between my teeth as I grow rigid.
Too much. I’m unwinding too quickly, but fuck—she’s running a nail between my abs now, exploring my body like I’d let that earlier plea escape and she’s simply giving me what I want.
I grit my teeth and press my knuckles into the marble, desperate to feel something other than this raging need to kiss her.
“Ruthie will ask where I’ve been staying.
I avoided it today, but I won’t be able to for much longer.
And once I tell her it was with you, we’ll need to get our stories straight.
We only date in front of her. And only for long enough that she can see I’m not allergic to men and move on,” she adds softly.
“You can call the shots, Quinny. Just tell me that I get to kiss you soon.”
She stills her exploration as her head tips back. The height difference between us is another one of my favourite things. How someone so short can carry such an attitude is beyond me. But fuck if I’m not head over heels for it.
“You want to kiss me that much?”
I drag my palm up her side, pushing her shirt up with it. My eyes latch onto her lips, and all the different ways I want to touch them flood my mind, turning the edges of my vision black.
“So fucking bad, baby,” I whimper.
The last thing I expect is for her to give me anything.
But she does, and the moment her lips brush the corner of my mouth, I stop breathing entirely.
I lean forward, too greedy not to take as much as I can from this moment.
Her soft breath whispers across my skin, and I shudder, clutching onto her side for balance.
“Get some sleep tonight, Beck,” she murmurs before retreating.
The ghost of her kiss lingers as I curl my fingers around nothing and watch her turn down the hall. Bodi hops off the couch and follows her like a shadow, leaving me alone to revel in what just happened.
And how sure I am that this is exactly where we’re supposed to be.