“Your parents never came to any of your games?” Quinn asks.
I just shrug, the hurt from their absence for all those years not as sharp as it used to be, thanks to the support of the best friends in the world.
“They caught a few games on TV on random Sundays when they didn’t have anything to do,” I tell him, pausing when I see the sparkle has disappeared from his eyes and there’s a muscle ticking in his clenched jaw. “It’s fine, I swear. I got over that a long time ago. I’m not telling you these things so you’ll hate them. It’s just… I don’t want you to think I’m…”
Weak.
It’s one thing to tell him how miserable I am at Sandbar Cottages and how my family doesn’t really pay attention to what I want. It’s a whole other kind of vulnerability I’m in no way equipped to handle for him to actually see it with his own two eyes. He knows the Emily who likes to make people smile, is always ready with a sarcastic comeback, headstrong, determined to get her way, and win at any cost. He doesn’t know the Emily who is afraid of disappointing her parents and will willingly lose every battle with them just to keep the peace.
“I don’t want you to think I’m an idiot,” I finally finish.
“I would never think that in a million years,” Quinn says seriously with a shake of his head.
“My parents don’t care much about my dreams, but they’re still my parents, and I don’t want to piss them off,” I remind him, starting to pace again, feeling all kinds of out-of-sorts, and really wishing I would have picked dare instead.
“So, you’re just nervous because you don’t think you’ll be able to fake it that well, and they’ll get mad at you?”
I stop pacing to narrow my eyes at him and put my hands on my hips.
“Don’t say just like this isn’t a huge thing to be nervous about. My mom has caught me in every lie I’ve ever told, which really has not been that many because I’m an honest person, but still! She’s scary, and she knows everything.”
Quinn nods, pulling his hands out of his pockets.
“Right, right… let me think…” He trails off, staring down at a spot in the driveway with a serious look of concentration on his face, until he finally lets out a huge sigh a few seconds later, shrugging as his eyes meet mine again. “Well, I guess there’s only one thing left to do.”
“See? I told you.”
Right when I think we’re on the same page and that getting the hell out of here is the best plan, Quinn stalks toward me, separating the few feet of distance between us in the driveway in the blink of an eye.
“What are you—?”
His hands cup my face, and his lips crash against mine so hard and fast I completely forget what I was going to say next.
My mouth instantly parts for him with a surprised gasp, and Quinn doesn’t even hesitate. He just dives right in, putting everything he has into this kiss, taking everything I have to give in return. It only takes a few seconds for the shock that this is actually happening to leave me, and I remember how to become an equal participant. My hands remember how to work after they flew up in surprise from my hips and just remained suspended in midair, and I move them between us to Quinn’s chest, gripping the front of his shirt in my fists, tugging him closer, and kissing him right back.
There’s nothing gentle about the way he moves his mouth against mine. It’s hard, hungry, and deep, and he kisses me with an urgency I’ve never known before. Like he can’t get enough, and he never wants to stop, his tongue moving against mine in a rough, commanding way that makes me think about his body moving the same way between my legs.
“Nope, he just grabs on tight and goes for it! Have you seen the muscles on him?”
The words from one of the high school cheerleaders flashes through my mind, making me realize a teenager was able to perfectly described what it’s like to kiss this man. This sweet, playful, sarcastic man with a wild intensity hidden inside that perfectly matches my own. The one that’s been screaming to get out for years, feeling like I was trapped in a boring, safe, and easy relationship, dying to know what it felt like to want someone so much that you can’t think straight.
Quinn devours my mouth, completely wrecks me, and I let him. I let him, because with every demanding clash of his tongue against mine, and with every low, rumbling groan I hear from deep in his chest when I match his fervency, all the cold and lonely parts of me are heated, lighting me on fire from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. Quinn kisses me like he’s been doing it all his life, knowing exactly what to do to turn me inside out, like he’s laying claim to me and reminding me that I’m his. One minute, I was freaking out, and the next minute, I’m seeing stars and forgetting my own name, and I never want this feeling to end.