Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
I take in a little air, unable to get a full breath. I pull out the Cubs cap from my back pocket and hand it to her. I’d gone to my car to get it, and I’m not sure why I didn’t wait till I was about to leave, but…
She looks down at it, her expression unreadable.
But then a voice interrupts us. “Quinn, don’t get my shirt wet!”
She darts her eyes up, addressing the voice somewhere outside the tunnel. “Too late!”
I take in the dark green T-shirt she wears over her bikini top that I hadn’t noticed till now.
Noah’s shirt? Splashes of water are sprayed across the fabric.
I flex my jaw. They became best friends quickly, didn’t they?
I hand her the hat. “Its home is here,” I tell her.
Her face softens as she takes it. “You mean, I can keep it till the next time you return?”
The next time I return… Something about the way she says it—kindly, but with an air of finality as if she knows I won’t be back—leaves a hole in the pit of my stomach. Quinn notices everything.
“It’s yours,” I tell her.
She doesn’t look at me, just brushes her fingers over the red C on the front of the hat. She’s had it in her possession a long time. I never expected to own it again.
But she hands it back to me. “Really, it’s okay.” She sets it in my lap. “I’d prefer you have that part of your father with you. Besides, you’re right. I should be wearing a hair net anyway.”
She smiles with that same relaxed air again as if she’s already said goodbye.
I close my fist around the bill of the hat—a piece of me—that she no longer wants. That she has no interest in looking in the mirror to see. I search her eyes for a falter—a chink in her armor. Is it really so easy for her? It’s like I’m disappearing from her past too.
But what do I want from her, really? If she looked sad—cried—what would I do? She was upset the last time I left. But seemingly, not now.
I stare at the shirt she wears, my eyes starting to burn. She has distractions now.
“Take off his shirt,” I say through my teeth.
I squeeze at the hat in my hand, feeling her go still.
“Excuse me?” she asks.
I lift my eyes, forcing the edge in my voice to ease up a little. “Before your brothers see.” I move past her, climbing out of the tunnel. “It’ll set Jared off on my last night here, and you know he’s like a bullet. Once shot, you can’t bring it back.”
I hope I sound convincing. Having Quinn pissed at me is the last thing I want in this moment, but I couldn’t stop myself.
She follows me out, and I weave slowly through the obstacle course and up the next wall, jumping rather than sliding down the next side.
She coasts down, still wearing the shirt.
I lock eyes with her.
Peering up at me, her spine straight, she doesn’t blink as she finally slips it off, over her head, and her body comes into view in her skimpy bikini top. Her hair falls back down around her, a little wet. Locks blanket her breast, drawing attention to the curve of a tendril as it drapes over her full and supple skin.
Jesus fuck.
Heat pools in my stomach, my body stirring, and it’s like she has a hand fisting my collar and is pulling me in. My fingers ache, empty and begging. If… If she were any other woman. God, any other woman, I’d have backed her up into the corner and kissed her.
Goddammit. She knows exactly what she is doing.
Kids I don’t recognize run through, jumping high and falling all over the place. Quinn grabs my hand to steady herself, and I draw in a sharp breath, instantly clasping my fingers around hers. I almost let my eyes close, a jolt spreading up my arm.
God, get it under control. It can’t happen.
She stands back upright again, but I don’t let her go, both of us leaning into the corner for support.
“It’ll pass,” she laughs, holding my arm with both hands now. I take Noah’s T-shirt from her, hanging it out of my side pocket.
The kids bounce over and over, the house underneath us rocking and swaying, and I plant my hand next to her head to steady myself.
She laughs quietly.
I gaze down at her and try to ignore the buzz on my skin at how close she is. By midnight, I’ll be gone. Back to where I’m solid. Back to where I belong. What will she be doing tomorrow?
Or tomorrow night? This moment, right now, will be long gone. In an hour. In ten minutes. And in thirty more seconds, I won’t be here with her. This close, smelling her and touching her where no one can see us. I turn my head away so she doesn’t see how I can barely breathe.