Page 57 of Just One Moment
Hersmiles and laughter are out of pity, they have to be.
Mypen hoversabove the page.Arethey out of pity?
Ithink about today.Howshe stared down at me asIput on her rain boots.Howshe didn’t let go of my hand.Howher head rested on my shoulder.
Thelook on her face whenItold her howIwas feeling wasn’t because she was embarrassed or getting ready to reject me.Sure, she was shocked—so wasIat that sudden outburst.
Fora second,Icould have sworn her expression was laced with longing.Desire.
YetIwalked away from her, too nervous to question what it meant.
Istare at my open journal as it sits in front of me on my bed.
It’sso easy for me to express howI’mfeeling when my thoughts are hidden between pages.
Tonight, however,Iwant to be bold.Forher.ToknowQuinnis a privilege and she should never doubt that.
Snatchingup my pen,Imessily scrawl a few lines at the bottom of the paper.
1)I’mnever listening toBoothagain.
2)Shemakes me feel brave.
Thesound of my journal slapping closed joltsCurlyfrom his sleep, and he watches me with curious eyes asIstride out of my room and across the hall.
CHAPTER TWENTY
quinn
Ilike him.
MorethanIshould for a fake boyfriend.Hemakes it so easy, and without sounding vain, it’s obvious he likes me too.Westarted this out as practically strangers and in such a short time we’ve become so much more.Hehas more self-control thanIdo, andIhave to respect that and his wish to keep things neutral.Evenif his words are in conflict with his actions.
AsIsettle into bed,Iallow the memories from today to calm my racing heart and try to convince myself there isn’t more going on between the two of us.
I’mjust about to turn off my bedside light when there’s a knock on the door.Myhand hovers over the switch asIthink about what to do.It’sclearlyGraham, but after our talk in the kitchen,Idon’t know what’s left to say.
Iclimb out of bed, readjust my tank top, and walk to the door.Whenit swings open,Grahamhas his fist poised, ready to knock again.Helooks…determined.Todo what, who knows, butIkeep the mood light.
“Hey, did you forget something?”
“Yes.This.”
Inthe blink of an eye, he’s over the threshold, in my space, and on me.
There’snot an inch of space between us as he bends down, crashes his lips to mine, and makes me forget everything.Hetakes advantage of the gaspImake, and his tongue plunges into my mouth, demanding access.Thetaste of him a highI’vebeen desperate to experience again.
Grahamisn’t just kissing me; he’s owning, devouring, treasuring me.
Hewalks us farther into the room, the door left wide open, and all sense forgotten.
“Graham,”Ibreathlessly whisper against his lips, butIdon’t tell him to stop as he palms my ass over my sleep shorts. “Whatare we doing?”
Hepulls away, the tip of his nose brushing mine. “Notfighting this anymore.Ican’t do it,Quinn,I’vetried.Needingyou is like needing air.”Hishand tangles in my hair as he looks down at me intensely. “Ifyou’re not okay with this, tell me, andI’llgo.”
Itdoesn’t really answer my question, or maybeIshould have asked,Whatdoes this mean for us afterward?
Themicroscopic part of my brain that tells me to think this through, to slow it down, is overshadowed by the louder part of my brain.Thepart that has me whispering, “I’vewanted this for a while.”