“Emily, that’s wonderful,” my father finally says, while my mother puts a diplomatic smile on her face for Quinn’s benefit and nods right along with my dad.
I know she wants nothing more than to remind everyone that cheerleading doesn’t pay the bills, which does indeed make it a hobby in her eyes. Something she liked to remind me every time we spoke over the last four years, after I made the mistake of telling her I had to pick up extra shifts at the restaurant in order to be able to afford groceries.
Sensing my need to get the hell out of here, before my mother decides she no longer wants to be a pleasant host, Quinn pushes up from his chair, pulling me right along with him as he goes. Releasing my hand once we’re standing, he wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me securely against his side, giving the top of my head a kiss and making me shiver, even though we’re practically standing right on top of the fire.
“Mr. and Mrs. Flanagan, thank you so much for dinner. I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds,” Quinn addresses them again, putting his own diplomatic smile on his face, even though there’s still tension radiating off him every time he looks at them. I can feel it in the stiffness of his arm around me and in the tightness of his body I’m pressed up against. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to need to call it a night. I’ve got an early workout in the morning, and your daughter and I have a lot to discuss about this charity event and just how much she’s going to blow everyone away.”
Goodbye, heart. You’re lost to me forever now.
CHAPTER 14
Quinn
“Eye on the prize, man.”
Emily: I’m sorry again I can’t be there to check you in at the cottage today.
Quinn: I still feel like you’re lying.
Emily: Why would I lie about needing to take Owen to one of his games on the mainland, because Wren and Shepherd had to go out of town for a night at the last minute?
Quinn: Because you still don’t want me to stay here, and you’re probably afraid if you’re alone with me, you might not be able to keep your hands off me. Totally understandable.
Emily: I’ve accepted the fact that you aren’t going to listen to me. And you’re right. I probably wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you. I’ve always wondered if I could successfully choke a man out.
Quinn: Kinky. I like it.
Emily: Stop annoying me, or I’ll go back to your cottage and remove the presents I left for you.
Quinn: Was the charred remains of what I think used to be a Vipers football jersey in the sand right off the deck of my rental cottage one of the presents you referred to?
Emily: Son of a bitch. Tess must have gotten ahold of a lighter.
Quinn: Now I’m definitely not going inside! What if she’s hiding in a closet? Goddammit! I can’t believe I’m afraid of her.
Emily: You’ll be fine, I swear. That was actually her way of welcoming you and saying “Fuck the Vipers.” You should really be quite pleased. Tess welcomes no one.
Emily: But if she is hiding in your closet, please try to wrestle the lighter away from her.
Quinn: I’M NOT FIGHTING A PREGNANT WOMAN, EMILY!
Quinn: You got me presents!!!!
Emily: Oh, good. You finally went inside. I thought you would continue being a big baby.
Quinn: I’m going to ignore that, but only because you left me Nutter Butters, a DVD copy of Varsity Blues, and a pet! You got me a fucking pet!
Emily: Technically, the cat is on loan from Birdie and the golf course. She has a bunch of strays she feeds that keep all the vermin and seagulls off the greens. The one you have is named Crouton.
Quinn: That’s… odd.
Emily: Don’t ask. Birdie named them all weird shit. She’s also got one named Meth, Chevy Tahoe, Lamp, and Rotisserie Chicken. Enjoy your pet salad condiment.
Quinn: I already am. He’s currently purring on my chest. We might take a nap on the couch later after dinner, where I’ve heard someone has already ordered me a pizza to be delivered. I think you like me, Emily Flanagan.
Emily: I fake like you, QB. Eye on the prize, man. Eye on the prize. Gotta go. Owen is up to bat, and if I don’t embarrass him by cheering the loudest, then what good is me being here, filling in for Wren?
Quinn: How did Owen do at bat last night?
Emily: Almost shit the bed with two strikes but pulled through in the end with a double. And then flipped me off when he got in the dugout.
Quinn: Did you cheer too loud and over-embarrass him?
Emily: No, I heckled him when he swung at the high ones. He’s fifteen. It’s fine; he can take it.