by Doyle, Dawn
“I thought you booked the time?” he called out, his voice holding a cold snap with every word.
I stopped, glancing over my shoulder. “Sue me.” I walked out, wondering if Quinn would follow or if he’d be so pissed off, naturally, that he’d just disappear for the rest of the day as usual.
“What do I have to do?” he asked, coming up beside me.
I closed my eyes for a couple of seconds to compose myself. “I was kidding, Quinn, I’m not taking pictures of you, so you’re safe. I actually have class right now.”
“Okay.”
I paused outside the room. “I have to go in.”
“Baby, I can’t say goodbye just yet,” he said with a wink.
“What are you talking about?” I whispered in return. “I’m not ditching this class.”
“Nobody’s asking you to.” His mischievous smile had me worried, especially when he raised his hand and pushed open the door. “Let’s go in before you’re late.”
“You’re not…” I sighed as he walked right past me. “…allowed in there.” I went in behind him and saw he was standing at my desk.
“How did you know this was mine?”
His eyes danced with mischief. “I have my ways.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close, taking my breath away, and dipped his head to mine, resting our foreheads together. “Don’t put up with his shit, Kinny, okay?” he whispered, and his eyes dropped to my mouth. “He doesn’t know when to stop.”
“I won’t,” I replied, my mouth brushing over his as I spoke, the gap between us closing. “But you have to leave, or I’ll get in trouble.” My last word had his lower lip between mine, and I ran my tongue over it, licking over the dip in the center.
He kissed me once, long and hard. “I’m leaving, but I’ll see you later, okay?” He made sure I was looking at him, waiting for my answer.
“Yeah, see you later.” And when he smiled, I melted. The deep frown disappeared, the pain that seemed to be trapped behind his eyes had disappeared for a split-second, and the light snarl that always seemed to settle on his sensual mouth was gone.
“Remember, I’m coming over tonight,” he said, then pulled away. “Don’t forget.” I shook my head, my jaw falling open. The asshole waved, shot me a wink as he pulled his lower lip between his teeth, then he was gone.
What the hell!
***
‘I’m still coming over.’
I checked the time. It was past eight already, and I’d finished my classes at three. I thought he’d been bluffing.
‘That wasn’t just for show?’
I lay on my bed, staring at my phone, hoping, wishing, that he was going to reply with an ‘I’m kidding’ message. It beeped, and my stomach bottomed out.
‘Nope. Josh is out doing his thing, and for some reason, you missed a lot in class. You need to study, and amazingly, so do I.’
‘What about Layton?’
The three dots appeared right away, and I lifted my hand to my mouth, finding myself chewing on my thumbnail.
‘Busy, too. I’ll be there in ten.’
Not even five minutes had gone by when I heard the familiar rumble of his motorcycle. I jumped off my bed and ran to my window, overlooking the street. I threw back the pastel green curtains, only to see him coming up the driveway and parking next to my car.
My mom’s gonna crucify me. No, she’s gonna skin me alive. No, it’s going to be much, much worse, she’s—
I didn’t get to finish my thoughts of torture at the hands of my mother when the doorbell rang. I couldn’t move fast enough. My bare feet flew over the gray carpet, out of my room, and almost fell down the stairs.
My mom beat me to the door.
“Quinn, hi,” she said with that tone I could only describe as sweet, laced with deadly poison. “What are you doing here?”
“Kinny didn’t tell you?” he asked, his eyes lifting to me on the stairs. The way he looked at me had me gripping the rail so tight it burned my palm, the darkness dilating his pupils, his irises a thin ring around the black center.
“Kinny?” my mom asked, her voice almost a whisper, she turned back to me, a questioning look in her expression.
“I thought you might’ve had other plans,” I said to Quinn as I hopped down the last couple of steps.
He had the balls to shake his head slowly and smiled sweetly as I threw daggers his way. “Not at all.” He patted the black strap over his shoulder. “I’ve got my books.”
My mom opened the door wider to let him in. “Studying. Of course,” she drew out, her pleasant demeanor scaring the shit out of me. “Come on in, Quinn.” She glared at me as he walked by her, his height dwarfing the pair of us, and his frame…He filled the hallway so much I’d have to side-step to get past. She closed the door and pointed to the kitchen. “How about a drink?”
When she went ahead, I grabbed his arm. “My mom will dissect you while you’re still breathing,” I whispered, checking that she wasn’t listening in.
“Nah, she’s cool,” he said, his grin widening.
“No,” I shook my head and waved my other hand while closing my eyes. “Don’t do that. You can’t flash me those teeth and expect me to be okay with this.”
“Sure I can,” he replied. “Watch.”
And like the idiot I was, I fucking did. He ran his tongue over the bite of his teeth, making sure to give a little extra time for the canines. “I hate you.”
He sighed. “I know, but you like that part of me, so I can’t complain.” He pulled away from me and followed my mom into the kitchen, where she sat at the center island, sipping her coffee. Two bottles of water sat in front of her.
When I walked in, she was eyeing us over the rim of her cup.
“So, studying,” she said. “What subject?”
I froze, unable to answer because I had no clue what the hell to say.
“English,” Quinn spoke up, then opened his backpack. “Catcher in The Rye. I’m completely useless at dissecting novels. We have a paper due next week, and I don’t even know where to begin.”
I didn’t miss his sly dig at me.
“Huh.” My mom’s eyes narrowed, considering his answer.
“Kinny,” Quinn said, holding the back of his hand next to his mouth conspiratorially. “I’m guessing your mom thinks we’re going to be fu—”
“Finish that word, and I’ll end you,” I growled, jamming my finger against his chest. His rock-solid chest that I’d been pressed against.
“Kinsley,” she said, grabbing my attention. “How much of your paper have you done?”
“I-uh-I-well,” I sputtered, then dropped my head to center myself after Quinn had caught me off guard. “I haven’t finished, but I’m over halfway through the book.” Quinn’s expression was indecipherable, a plain mask with no emotion.
“Okay, then,” my mom said, getting up from her seat. She walked over to the sink, rinsed her cup and placed it in the bowl. She stepped toward me, leaned in, and whispered. “You’re a terrible liar, honey. However, Quinn’s ability to think fast is astounding. Bravo.”
“No, no, no.” I waved my hands about. “Nothing is going on here. We’re classmates, just studying for this paper. We don’t like each other that much, I swear.”
I watched his reaction, and my heart dropped when his face hardened, the muscles in his jaw working as he ground his teeth.
My mom’s scrutinizing gaze passed between us, too long for comfort, until her features softened. “Well, okay, then.” She picked up her purse and keys from the counter. “I have a few things to go over at the office, so I’ll be a couple of hours.” With one last glance, she said, “Quinn, if you try anything with my daughter, I’ll kill you. I know how to make it look like an accident.”
My mom left, but I didn’t move. “Are you okay? You look upset.”
“I’m fine.” His hand gripped his bag so tight I thought his knuckles would burst out of his skin.
“No, you’re not, Quin
n,” I snapped. “My mom—”
“I said I’m fine. We should go study.” He looked around. “Here?”
I shook my head. “Upstairs in my room. My stuff’s already on my desk.”
“Lead the way, princess.”
His words were biting, cold and hard, just like when we’d first met. They’d softened over the few months I’d been here, but it was as though we were back to square one.
I swiped the bottles and walked out of the kitchen, leading him to my bedroom.
Quinn
Kinsley’s room wasn’t what I expected. The carpet was soft, light gray, and even with my boots on, my feet sank into the deep pile. Long light-green curtains reached the floor, the same ones I saw twitching when I pulled up. When she turned to the left, I saw her plain covered bed straight ahead, silvery covers with white pillowcases, neat and tidy, and no clutter in sight.
I clutched my backpack, my hands not ready to let go. I was afraid to. I wanted to punch something, to drive my fists into the wall, the door, anything solid that would make me feel something. Hurt, pain, everything I needed to get rid of the coil winding inside of me.
“We don’t even like each other that much.”
Words that I wouldn’t have given a shit about if they’d come from anybody else’s mouth. But, for some reason, when they came out of hers, it fucking stung.
“I’ll just move these so you can sit here,” Kinsley said, shifting books, a laptop, and her camera off of the white desk and onto her bed. I stayed put, just staring at the matching chair, the gray cushioned seat slightly imprinted from where Kinsley had probably been sitting before I showed up. “Quinn.”
“Yeah.” I slung my bag onto the desk and sat down, the seat comfortable and warm. I took a few deep breaths, inhaling the scent permeating the air around me. It was pure Kinsley, the smell that hadn’t left me since the first fucking day.
Her long legs moved over to me, her skin bare except for a pair of black cut-off shorts, and no footwear—not even socks.
“Quinn, tell me what’s going on because this hot and cold thing you have with me is starting to stress me out,” she said, resting her hand on my shoulder. Fuck, I could feel it through the leather on my jacket, scorching me, though that could also have been the flare in my temper, the whirling rage wanting to spiral out of control. Kinsley sighed, turning away from me. “The silent treatment again.”
I knew I was an asshole, I knew my behavior was causing shit between us, but it was just how it was. I was me; she could deal, just like everybody else.
So why does it make me feel like shit with her?
I shrugged, sucked in a breath, and willed my body to chill the fuck out. I opened my bag and took out my books. “We’ve got studying to do.”
“Uh, sure.”
I watched her out of the corner of my eye, her ass moving as she headed over to her double bed, her deep-red tank top molding to her slim waist. My cock stirred, coming to life again from when I saw her on the stairs. Her long braid swished, and as I lifted my eyes, roaming up, I spotted some petals, shaded in various pinks, across her left shoulder.
Interesting.
I had my own ink, only visible when I took off my shirt. I shrugged off my jacket and draped it over the back of the chair.
The door flew open, and Kinsley jumped. “Mom!”
“Hi,” her mom said like she hadn’t just barged in unannounced. “Do you need anything from the store while I’m out?”
“I thought you were gone already!” Kinsley said, pen and book in her hand.
“I came back to see if you needed anything.”
“Uh, phone?”
Mrs. Jensen glanced at me, then back to Kinsley. “I wasn’t sure you’d pick up.” With one last check in my direction, seemingly satisfied finding my own books sprawled out over Kinsley’s once neat desk, she waved. “I’m definitely leaving now.”
When the door shut and the tell-tale sounds of her mom actually leaving this time, Kinsley huffed out. “What the hell was that?”
“You don’t know why she just did that?”
Kinsley grimaced. “I think I do, but I really don’t want to.”
I painted the picture for her anyway. “She wanted to catch us fucking, Kinny. She thinks we are anyway, and she wanted to catch you in a lie even if it meant walking in on you riding me.” Her horrified expression made me laugh. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“God, she did, didn’t she?” She shuddered. “Ew, my mom catching us having sex. That’s not a good picture to put in my head.”
I stared at her for a little while, expecting her to continue with something snarky about it being with me. “Does she do that a lot?”
“What, walk into my room without knocking first? No,” she replied, not looking up from her book. She placed it down and began toying with the ends of her hair, removing the band at the bottom, then separating the woven tresses. “My mom respects my privacy, but I guess she was a little hesitant when she saw you.”
I balked. “What about me?
Kinsley deadpanned. “I don’t need to explain that one, Quinn.”
I gestured to my jeans, the rips over the thighs and knees showing a little skin as I bent my legs. I placed my hands on my chest, brushing down my matching black T-shirt. “Do I look dangerous, Kinny?” I asked gruffly. “Does she really think I’d hurt you?”
Her eyes lifted again, her hands pausing in her hair. She perused the entire length of me, and my already half-mast dick perked up. She continued up and down, then focused on my face, her throat bobbing when she swallowed. “I don’t think that’s what’s going through her head, Quinn. I think she’s just worried I’m going to take off with a biker, ride into the sunset, and start popping out babies.” The blood ran from my face, my spine chilling. Her straight expression cracked, and she threw her head back and laughed, the sound melodic and steady. “You’re an idiot. Of course she doesn’t think that.”
“That’s not funny,” I said, shaking my head.
“It was from where I’m sitting.” Kinsley held up her hair tie, pulled it through her fingers, and fired it at me, my reflexes kicking in to catch it before it could hit my face. It was going to get enough of that in a couple of days.
I pushed my hand through it, keeping it on my wrist. “Then you keep sitting there,” I growled.
“Aww, afraid I’m gonna come over and sit on your lap and bring the comedy to you?” she asked with a mock pout.
I’m afraid I’ll keep you here.
“No.” I turned back to the books but couldn’t focus. Instead, I paid attention to the photos pinned to the board above while Kinsley fiddled with something where she was sitting, a few clicks sounding, then finishing with a beep. A sealed newspaper cutting with an obituary was pinned onto the board. Isaac Jensen, wife to Shelley Jensen and father to Kinsley Jensen. Killed in the line of duty doing what he loved.
“My dad,” Kinsley said, and my eyes moved to the picture next to it, her arms around a guy, laughing together, her face lit up like it was the best day of her life. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her face. “My mom’s brother, Uncle Ray. He would’ve hated you.” She chuckled when I turned to side-glance at her. “Only because your bike’s nicer than his was.” Her happiness fell slowly away, the light disappearing from her eyes as she seemed to get lost in thought at the pictures.
“I’m sorry, Kinny,” I whispered, still looking at her photos. The memories she’d left behind when she’d come to Broken Hollow. Fuck, she probably couldn’t visit their graves because of the fucker who’d forced her here.
When we find him, he’s going to pay.
“Thanks.” She got up and moved her things off of the bed and onto the floor, her camera to the nightstand, the same wood as her bed frame, then grabbed the remote next to it. “Enough of the sad talk,” she said, flicking on the flatscreen on the wall facing her bed. “And enough studying. I’m watching TV.”
She flicked through the channels as I tried to look
down at the book, but the words jumbled up on the page. All I could see out the corner of my eye were her legs. One bent, giving me a view up the back of her thigh, leading toward her ass. The other resting on top of her knee, swinging up and down.
My fingertips drummed against the surface of the desk, my hands twitching, and my back tense. I could study with Layton banging a girl in his room, and I could study when Josh was getting his freak on all fucking night, but this… It was fucking torturous.
“You don’t want to finish your project?” I asked, keeping my head down.
“I’m too tired,” she replied, yawning. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Oh?” Then I turned, slowly, just my head, and pumped my brows. “Busy?”
“Considering what we agreed, Quinn, I wasn’t that kind of busy.”
“A little self-love?”
“No!” she shrieked, but her face reddened. “I just kept waking up.”
“I’m just kidding, no need to be embarrassed.” I grinned wide, and her eyes rested there. “What are you watching?”
She went back to the screen. “No clue. Just flicking through Netflix.”
“Try How To Get Away With Murder. I hear your mom’s looking for tips on how to bump me off.”
Kinsley deadpanned. “Actually, I love that show, but I’ve watched every episode.”
I stood and walked over to her, holding my hand out. “Remote.” She handed it over, and I flicked to a show that was boring as fuck. “If you can’t sleep, watch this. It’ll knock you right out.”
She patted the space next to her. “First one to fall asleep loses.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. If your mom catches us even sitting on the bed together, I’ll be toast, and I’ve got a fight in a few days. I can’t have your mom beating them to it.”
Kinsley’s face fell. “I’m going to win, so there won’t be a problem.”