Out of Frame

by Megan Erickson

  “I envy you a little,” Quinn said. “After the League is over, you have options. You can choose your own path. I don’t hate the path I’m on, but I hated that I never, not once, went off-trail.” He tilted his head to the side. “Do you know what I mean?”

  I nodded slowly. “I do.”

  “I mean, you just, what, graduated high school and took off to LA?”

  “Pretty much, with a hundred bucks and a wish.”

  He blew out a breath. “Wow. See, I say I want to go off-trail, but then I’d have a million questions before doing so, like, What’s the weather like, and Do I need a jacket, and Hold on, I burn really badly in the sun and I need SPF 50 so I don’t get skin cancer.”

  Fuck, I wanted to kiss him. “Hey, that’s okay, too. Not everyone is made to go off-roading, you know?”

  He shrugged and nibbled his lip. “Yeah, I guess so. But . . .” His voice dropped so low I barely heard him. “Maybe one of these days I want to give it a shot, you know?”

  I swallowed, sobering with him. “Yeah, I know.”

  Quinn shook himself. “Ugh, I’m getting all weird and introspective. Sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “And just so you know, I’m not as free as you think. I have cameras following me around. There are consequences and about a million people who will see if I fuck up.”

  He twisted his lips. “I’m sorry for that.”

  I shrugged. “Me too.” Glancing at the clock, I sighed. I had to get going, even if it was the last thing I wanted to do. I motioned to his mostly empty plate. “You about done? I think I have a thing up on deck I’m supposed to be at soon.”

  He shoved his plate away. “God. Yeah, I’m done.”

  “You enjoyed your massive crabmeat plate?”

  He rubbed his stomach. “Delicious.” He followed me as I made my way to the door. “So what’s happening on deck?”

  “I think it’s a dance contest. I’m judging with Selena and Levi.”

  He had to jog a little to keep up with my long strides so I slowed down. “So you have a schedule, kinda?”

  I waffled my hand. “There are some events we’re supposed to host, so yeah.”

  He looked down at his feet. “So I can come watch, right?”

  I bumped him with my shoulder as we walked down the narrow hall. “You don’t wanna compete? Maybe I can teach you how to Dougie?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I don’t even know what that means. I have to grab my sunglasses. I’m only a couple floors down.” He bit his lip and looked at me from under those golden lashes. “You want to come? Or . . .”

  “Sure.” Which was a dumb answer. So fucking dumb. We stepped into the tiny elevator, and as it descended, I was even more aware of his solid presence beside me. His arm brushed mine by accident and he mumbled an apology. This close, I could count the freckles on his skin, smell the soap he’d showered with that morning. There was a small razor cut on his jaw, marring his otherwise unblemished complexion.

  I looked away and stared at the changing numbers over the door.

  When we reached his floor, we turned down two hallways before we came to his door. Number 299.

  Those damn nines.

  I knew there wasn’t a live-feed camera on this floor, which was great, because I didn’t want Quinn anywhere near those damn cameras. I didn’t know how I was going to manage that if I continued hanging out with him. The best thing would be to leave him alone. But as he unlocked his door, and then looked back at me, blinking red bangs out of his eyes, I knew that was going to be one of the toughest things I’d ever done.

  His lips twitched. “Uh, you can come in or . . . whatever. I should probably put on some suntan lotion, too. I mean,” he motioned to his arm with his chin, “SPF 50, remember?”

  Welp, that answered that. No way in hell was I going to watch him put on lotion. “I can just wait out here.”

  He smiled, but the guy wore his emotions all over his face. He was disappointed. “Sure.”

  Leaving the door open a crack, he stepped inside. I leaned against the opposite wall, biting my thumbnail and checking my watch. I was early, so I didn’t have a good excuse to leave. My phone was still blowing up. I pulled it out of my pocket and didn’t bother checking the messages. I texted Doug, Be up on deck in fifteen.

  My phone rang and I gritted my teeth, wondering how Doug would react if I told him to fuck off. However, it wasn’t Doug. It was my agent, Carl Simmons. I glanced at the door, then answered my phone, turning to the side to lean a shoulder against the wall. “Hey.”

  “J. R.,” Carl said, all business as usual, like I was just a line item on his to-do list.

  “Yeah.”

  “I have some news for you. You have a minute?”

  He acted like he didn’t know I was on a fucking cruise ship. Or maybe he’d forgotten. Whatever. He wasn’t my friend. “Sure, I got a minute.”

  “I got you an audition. It’s a small part on a pilot for a TV show on the TW network. You’d play a high school football player. I can e-mail the details on the part.”

  My agent was an asshole, but at least he was doing something. My heart sped up. “Really?”

  “This is a family-friendly show, J. R. So is the audience. I think you know where I’m going with this.”

  And then my heart plummeted into my shoes. “But—”

  “I told you from the beginning, it’s going to be much easier to get you parts if you’re straight. And you kind of are, right? Just date women.”

  He had no idea what it meant to be bisexual. Just date women. Like that ignored a whole other part of me. Like he didn’t understand that even if I fell in love with a woman and married her, I’d still be lying to her about who I was.

  But I thought about Darren, and my parents, and I kept my mouth shut even as the walls closed in around me, even as my chest tightened and I thought I was going to black out from lack of breath. “Send me the details.”

  “Will do. Take care.” He hung up, not giving a shit that he’d just laid a ticking bomb at my feet.

  I stared at my phone, my body numb. For the first time, I wanted to cry about my situation, wail about how unfair it was. But I’d made all these decisions. Every step of the way, I’d put one foot in front of the other and walked toward the fire.

  And now my feet were over the coals and there was no way out.

  A loud crash sounded from inside Quinn’s room, followed by a yelp and a curse. My body came alive again with a shock as my heart raced with concern for Quinn. I shoved the door open and rushed inside, immediately spotting him in the bathroom. He stood with his shirt off, rubbing his jaw, a squeeze bottle of lotion spilled on the floor.

  I swallowed as my gaze took in his body. Christ, he was perfect. Slender, with a flat stomach and a trim waist. There were freckles everywhere, and I wanted to play connect the dots with my tongue.

  My gaze snapped up to his face. He was looking at me, his brows furrowed. “J. R?”

  I licked my lips and tried to act casual despite my racing heart and rising arousal. “Uh, hey. I heard a crash. You okay?”

  He smiled, but he still looked thoughtful. “Yeah, I’m fine. This damn bathroom is so small and I slipped on Jess’s clothes on the floor. Banged my face on the sink. It’s fine.” There was a red spot on his jaw, and I imagined it might bruise a little, especially with his fair skin. He bent over to pick up the bottle, so I got a good view of his ass. His perfectly round ass.

  And because I had absolutely no willpower, I stepped into the bathroom with him. “Here, let me help you clean up.”

  He was now on all fours mopping up the spilled sunblock, and I dropped down with him. Our heads were close as we used wads of tissues to wipe the white lotion from the floor.

  The entire bathroom smelled like coconuts and Quinn. I could hear his soft inhales and e
xhales as he strained to clean up a drop in the corner.

  I sat back on my heels and dropped the tissues in the wastebasket. Quinn did the same, then wiped his hand across his face, leaving behind a smear of lotion on his cheek.

  The phone call was still fresh in my mind, but for probably the millionth time today, when I was around Quinn, I didn’t think first. I completely threw the J. R. Butler plot. I reached out and swiped the lotion from his cheek with my thumb.

  His gaze darted to meet mine, and his chest heaved, then stilled. I held my breath too, because what else was there to do? I was caught in his blue depths—as blue as the ocean that buoyed this massive ship we were now on—and I was drowning. Good as gone. Drifting to the ocean floor. But instead of struggling against the cement blocks tied around my ankles, all I felt was peace.

  Quinn swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “J. R.?”

  “Yeah?” My voice was a croak.

  “Why are you here?”

  “Because I heard a crash—”

  He shook his head, cutting me off as he pointed to the floor between us. “No, why are you here?”

  I knew what he meant. The last thread of defense kicked in, though, and I shook my head. “Not sure what you mean?”

  His face fell, and I had to curl my hand into a fist to keep from reaching out to him. “Look, Quinn—”

  “Quinn? Why is the door wide open?”

  Jess’s voice filtered through the haze, preventing me from doing something stupid like confess everything at the freckled feet of Quinn.

  Her footsteps were close, and I jumped to my feet just as she stopped in front of the bathroom door.

  Her gaze went from me to where Quinn still knelt on the floor. I had no idea what it looked like, but from the anger sweeping over her face, I was guessing it wasn’t good. “What the hell?”

  She took a step inside, her little fists balled at her sides. “What’s going on? Why does Quinn have a bruise on his jaw?”

  Oh shit, I’d forgotten about the bruise. I glanced behind me as Quinn slowly rose to his feet with a sigh. “Jess, calm down.”

  “No, I will not calm down, Quinn Mathers.” Her dislike of me was written all over her face, from her scrunched nose to her thinned lips. She poked her finger in my chest and I bristled. “You need to leave,” she said.

  “Jess,” Quinn hissed, pushing me aside to face off with his friend. “Knock it off. He was standing outside our cabin while I put sunblock on. If you wouldn’t have left your damn gel bra on the floor, I wouldn’t have slipped on it and banged my face on the sink. And J. R. wouldn’t have rushed in to help me clean up the sunblock I spilled.” He lifted his eyebrows and placed a hand on his cocked hip, chin out as he glared at his friend.

  Jess didn’t move for a minute, then her entire body sagged. “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh. I think you need to apologize to him for coming in here like fucking Xena.”

  “I did not come in here like Xena,” she muttered, before turning to me. “Um, I’m sorry. That was . . . not nice of me. To assume the worst.”

  I was crammed with three people into a small bathroom that barely fit one. I was angry with myself for getting into this situation, for almost blowing everything because of Quinn. Then I got yelled at by an overprotective blonde. I was done, so fucking done. This whole thing had been a mistake, and I needed to stay away from Quinn. I only had six more days to mind my own business. “Yeah, it’s fine,” I said, sidling my way around them and out the door. “Uh, gotta go. Later.”

  I jogged down the hallway. The faster I put distance between us, the better.

  Chapter Seven

  Quinn

  The worst part about that whole awkward situation was that I hadn’t been wearing a shirt. Okay, maybe not the worst part, but that had been pretty big.

  I was skinny. While I had some muscle tone, I couldn’t seem to build big hulking muscles like . . . well, like J. R.

  Who had run out of here with the speed of an Olympic sprinter.

  I wasn’t even mad at Jess. Not really. We protected each other. It was what we had always done for so many years. But now she was staring over her shoulder where J. R. had left, biting her lip. She turned back to me, her head tilted to the side. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

  I tugged on my shirt and brushed past her out into the cabin. “You aren’t missing anything.”

  “No, I really think I am. I misread the tension or something. What exactly happened?”

  “I told you what happened. He was waiting for me outside, because we were going to go up on deck. I fell, he heard the crash, and rushed in. He was helping me clean up. That’s it.”

  She wasn’t letting up. “So why were you on your knees and he was standing up?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Because I was about to suck his dick, Jess. God, what do you think? He stood up when you walked in!”

  A flush crossed over her face. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yelling at him. I’m sorry for interrupting—”

  “You didn’t interrupt anything!” Even now I could feel the heat of his thumb on my cheekbone. I closed my eyes and turned away before Jess could see my expression.

  “Okay, well . . .” She was grasping at straws. “I’m sorry for everything I did in the last five minutes that was wrong.”

  “Jess, it’s fine. But J. R. is . . . not a jerk, okay? So please quit treating him like he’s going to punch my face any minute.”

  She ran her fingers along my jaw while I glared at her mutinously. “Do you need ice?”

  “I’m not going to break! It’s not a big deal.” I shot her a teasing scowl. “Clean up your clothes a little next time, will ya?”

  She had the decency to look ashamed. “Of course. I’m sorry. I’m going to be the worst person to live with ever. My future husband will hate me.”

  I pinched her cheeks. “No, he’ll love you just like all of us do who know you.”

  “Now you’re just lying.”

  “Crap,” I said with a snap of my fingers. “You know my tell.”

  Jess crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot. “So anyway, what’s the plan now? You want to go up on deck? I heard there’s a dancing competition. I think you should put your hat in for it.” She winked.

  “Uh, you know I can’t dance. Like, at all.”

  “Oh, you’re not that bad.”

  “I am so that bad.” After checking my hair in the mirror and grabbing my sunglasses, I followed her out of the cabin, locking the door behind us. “J. R. said he’s judging with Selena and Levi.”

  “What have you guys been doing this whole time?”

  “We ate lunch, then came back here for me to get my sunglasses.” We bonded. I thought about professing my belief in soul mates.

  “Huh,” she said.

  “What?”

  She shrugged as she pressed the button for the elevator. “Nothing.”

  ***

  As we made our way to the deck, I replayed what happened in the bathroom over and over in my head. There was something crucial I was missing, I knew it. Because everything about that moment had felt . . . not innocent. If Jess had been outside and heard a crash, she would have laughed and said, “What the hell did you do now?” like a normal friend, and not rush to my defense. Friends didn’t look at me like that, not the way he had. And the way he’d reached out to wipe the lotion off my face . . . even now I got shivers thinking about it. Why had he touched me? Why had his expression been so intense?

  I had to be reading into things because the alternative would be . . . no, that couldn’t be. J. R. was straight. Everyone knew about his epic love story with his girlfriend, Andrea.

  I could still feel the heat of his glare on my bare chest. I wondered if he was as affected as I was.

  We got off one floor below the deck and then
took the stairs the rest of the way. The rail shook beneath my hand from the sound of the bass-filled music playing on deck.

  “Damn,” Jess said. “I guess they started the party without us.”

  We pushed open the door and immediately had to press ourselves against it as a group of girls in bikinis ran by, chased by a laughing . . . Casey.

  “My nemesis,” Jess growled, shaking her fist in the air.

  I laughed and grabbed her hand. “Come on. Let’s go check out the dance competition.”

  I wasn’t sure what I expected. Maybe something like The X Factor, where the judges sat at a table and watched the competitors on a stage. Because I clearly hadn’t expected . . . well, whatever was going on.

  It was times like these I felt about eighty years old.

  Selena sat on a chair in the middle of the crowd, her long dark hair flowing down her back, large sunglasses over her eyes, and her mouth open in hysterical laughter. There was a guy on the ground in front of her doing . . .

  “He’s humping the deck,” Jess said. “Woooow, someone’s been having one too many Magic Mike marathons.”

  A girl was shaking her boobs in Levi’s face. While everyone knew boobs weren’t his thing, it was clear he was having a great time, dancing along with her and pretending to bite her neck.

  This wasn’t a dancing competition, this was . . . a stripping competition. How had I not anticipated that drunk college students would take it that far? I needed to get out more.

  A shout went up at the opposite end of the stage where some girl was dancing with J. R.

  Well, dancing made it sound nice and innocent, and nothing about that dancing was nice and innocent. J. R.’s shirt was off and tucked into the back pocket of his shorts. The girl was wearing a pair of tiny shorts and a bikini top that covered probably a total one square inch of skin. His forearms rested on the girl’s shoulders as he rolled his hips into hers, her legs straddling his thigh. Over and over again, the movement so hypnotic, I couldn’t look away. It was . . . dirty.

  Kinda filthy.

  For a moment, I pretended I was in that girl’s place and J. R. was grinding those beautiful abs against me, that his strong thighs were straddling one of mine. That I had the freedom to run my hands up the strong muscles of his back.