Page 39 of Scars Like Wings
“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.
Quinnkissedme.
Like, really,kissedme.
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 herfinger guns,of all things. I immediately cringed. I was drunk as hell, and I couldhear 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?”