Quinn: Oh, she somehow tracked down my number and called to ask if I had any food allergies.
Emily: OMG I’m so sorry! And yeah, she raised five children. My parents were outnumbered. If she wasn’t scary, we would have taken over.
Quinn: I’m not certain, but I think she grounded me.
Emily: Okay, that’s it. I’m calling her and cancelling.
Quinn: The hell you are! I spent thirty minutes on the phone with her when she couldn’t find your grandmother’s homemade gravy recipe, and she thankfully found it when I suggested she look in the last cookbook she used. Sure enough, it was shoved between the pages. I’m invested in this gravy now, Emily. Don’t deny me the gravy.
Emily: For all you know, my grandma’s gravy could taste like absolute horse shit. This is all just too ridiculous, and I’m cancelling. I’m sorry I even asked; just forget about the whole thing.
Quinn: What’s ridiculous is your need to keep me and gravy apart. This might actually be what breaks us up. Also, did you know your mom has a shirt that says Quemily on it? She sent me a picture. It’s adorable, and I want one. Who do I need to speak to about this?
Quinn: Your silence tells me you do not know the name of the vendor. No worries. I’ll figure it out.
Emily: After this, we are never, ever getting back together.
Quinn: See? It’s a catchy tune. I knew you’d start singing it before long. You’re a little off-key though, and that song is for POST-break-up. You’re too early for that, since you still need me.
Emily: *photo attachment*
Quinn: A picture of your middle finger was unnecessary! I can’t believe you would treat your boyfriend this way. Your mother is going to be so disappointed if you aren’t nicer to me on Saturday.
CHAPTER 13
Emily
“I am completely losing this game.”
“This is a really bad idea. I’m going to take you back to the ferry dock,” I mutter. “I’ll just tell them you had an emergency. Or you got a concussion at practice. Or you were hit by a bus. Oooh, that’s a good one! My mom might send flowers, but she’ll give you time to heal and won’t bug you with phone calls and uncomfortable questions.”
Quinn takes a quick step to the side, blocking my way when I try to walk around him in my parents’ driveway and back to my golf cart, where I’ve been pacing for the last couple of minutes since we pulled up. I was perfectly fine as he slid into the golf cart next to me when I picked him up at the ferry dock a little bit ago. I was like an eager puppy, just happy to be in his presence again, and we talked easily nonstop about random stuff the whole way here, my nerves and anxiety not coming into play until I shut off the cart and remembered where we were and what the hell we were about to do.
Crossing his arms, Quinn raises an amused eyebrow at me.
“I’m in my happy place now after a week away from it, and you want to throw me in front of a bus? I even bought a new shirt and everything.”
When Quinn asked me what he should wear to dinner, I told him anything that happens on this island is a hundred percent casual. I never expected to pull up to the dock and find him lounging on a park bench, people-watching, and looking like he completely belonged here.
In his white American Eagle T-shirt with a blue surf logo over his chest, khaki shorts, and flip-flops, with his black hair tousled from the golf cart ride, he looks like any other resident. As opposed to his asshole of an agent who stuck out like a sore thumb in his designer suit and did nothing but put this island down, Quinn only raves about the island, and there’s a different kind of peace that comes over him when he’s here that I’ve noticed. His shoulders aren’t as tense, his smile isn’t forced, and he just looks happy and at ease, like all the pressure he has doesn’t even exist.
And doesn’t that just make me feel some kind of way I have no business feeling? As much as I can’t stand it here sometimes and need to get away, this is still my home. I’m proud of where I come from, and knowing this man enjoys his time here and feels like he can relax and be himself makes me happy that I’m able to give that to him.
Yep. This was a really, really bad idea, because now my stupid heart is getting involved!
I never should have kissed him. That just made everything worse. Jeanie wasn’t even looking, for fuck’s sake! I kissed him because I wanted to kiss him, especially after all those amazing things he said about me to her, even if he didn’t mean half of them. And now I have to sit through a dinner with my parents, knowing how soft and perfect his lips are, pretending like we’ve been dating for months and I’ve kissed those lips a million times before, but in a much more intimate way than the stupid little peck I gave him.