Between the Lines

by Renee Harless

  I watch in awe as Quinn places her petite hands on my shoulders and rocks her body against mine, seeking more.

  “Hold on, sweetheart.” I grip the leg already nestled against my waist and then seize her other leg, bringing it around my waist.

  She adjusts herself in this position, rising and then settling back down slowly. Far too slowly for my liking.

  I thrust into her, wanting to go as far as possible. Wanting her to feel me between her legs tonight, tomorrow, next week. Wanting her to remember where I’ve been when she leaves.

  “Fuck, Quinn. You feel so God damn good. Tighter somehow.”

  Her channel squeezes me momentarily and I freeze.

  “Kegels,” she whispers. “You keep moving and I’ll keep doing it.”

  She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I readjust my hold on her thighs, spreading them wide, and plunge into her hard and fast. Our breaths mix in staccato beats, harmonizing with the distinctive whirl of the washers and dryers. The sweat pours down our bodies as our fevered passion intensifies.

  “Trevor,” she cries out as her nails dig into my shoulders.

  “Come for me, Quinn,” I command as my balls pull tight, a tingling in my spine growing rapidly

  She makes it through a few more thrusts before she constricts around me forcefully, pulling me so tightly that it causes me to erupt instantly. I jerk as the pulsations race through me, unable to control my body’s reaction.

  “Damn,” I grunt as I slide out of her warmth and immediately have a sense of loss.

  As I place her legs gently back onto the floor, her eyes are closed, her chest heaves with deep breaths, and her high cheeks are reddened from the heat and exertion. But the thing that captures my eye the most is the tiniest of smiles on her lips. Just a tip of the corners upward, enough to let someone know she’s happy.

  As I turn, I take a look at the pile of sheets and towels that still need folding and shove a hand through my tangled mess of hair, now damp and flat against my head.

  “I guess we need to finish this up.” Quinn opens her eyes first in alarm and then in hesitation as she takes in the pile. “Come on, Quinny girl.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she hisses as she walks past me back to her pile, nudging my shoulder a bit aggressively as she passes.

  We work together in silence, her holding one edge of the sheet while I hold the other, bringing them together to complete the fold and then repeating it all over again.

  I’m not sure how long we work, but by the time we’ve finished, the sun is hanging high in the sky and we’re soaked through as if we’ve taken a dip in a pool. As we step from the laundry room, we’re immediately welcomed by a cool breeze from the air conditioning unit.

  “That feels so good,” Quinn moans as we make our way back to the check-in desk to let them know we’ve finished. When we approach, the woman behind the desk gasps in horror at our appearance.

  “I am so sorry. It completely slipped my mind that the cool air vent in the laundry room isn’t working properly.” She rushes out with two bottles of water, handing the first to Quinn.

  “It’s fine, really. No harm was done. And truthfully it’s no different than some of the saunas I’ve been to. Thank you for the water,” Quinn graciously replies as she opens the bottle and brings it to her puckered lips.

  “Officer Shaw, is there anything else I can get you or Ms. Miller? We’ve appreciated all your help today, and I know the group enjoyed the little skit you did earlier.”

  “I think we’re good, Ellen.” And then a thought occurs to me and I decide to press my luck a little. “Actually, are Mr. and Mrs. Sampson around? I wanted them to meet Quinn.”

  I watch as Ellen stutters, knowing full well the type of relationship the Sampsons enjoy, and then I hear Quinn choke on her water.

  “Officer Shaw, I don’t know if—” Ellen begins but I shake my head, cutting her off as I pat Quinn’s back, helping her to catch her breath.

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ll catch them another time. I probably need to get Quinn and Izzy home soon. You let me know if you need anything.”

  “I will, Officer Shaw. You’ve been so kind to us.”

  I nod at Ellen as she takes her place behind the counter once more, then steer Quinn back into the social hall, my hand grazing along her lower back.

  “Oh my gosh, what happened to you two?” Izzy cries out as she rushes over and then stops suddenly, her body jerking with the movement. “You both smell.”

  “Well thanks, sis. We’ve just spent the past two hours in the laundry room folding linens without any ventilation. It was hot as hell in there.”

  “Oh, well you still stink. I’m not riding in a car with both of you.”

  “Hey, Vic,” I shout as he finishes a game of checkers with a resident.

  “What’s up?”

  “Can you take Izzy home when you’re ready to leave? Quinn and I are going to head out.”

  “Sure thing, man.”

  Turning back toward my sister, I say, “Problem solved. We’ll meet up for dinner tonight, okay? I’ll make a lasagna.”

  “I would ask where you’re going, but I do love your lasagna, so I’m going to keep my mouth shut.”

  “Good call. Come on, Quinn.”

  She follows my request wordlessly, but as we step out into the bright sunshine, her hand presses against mine and then her fingers wrap around my palm. I haven’t had a woman reach out to hold my hand in years—public displays just aren’t my thing—but with Quinn, it feels good, feels right.

  Turning my head, I gaze at her, wondering what’s going through her mind, but then she drops my hand like it’s on fire.

  “I’m sorry, that was probably too much. I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay, Quinn. I like you holding my hand. You can touch me however you want.”

  Her radiant smile returns as I grab her hand, clutching it tightly, and it’s like a second sun has risen in the sky. Her joy is like the sun bright and overwhelming.

  “Do you want to grab some lunch?” I ask just as both of our stomachs growl loudly.

  She giggles and she nods enthusiastically. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  The car comes into view and I guide us toward it, still maintaining the grip of her hand. I let her go to slide into the seat, then rush to the other side of the vehicle and drop down into the seat, immediately starting the car and taking her hand back into mine.

  But our reprieve doesn’t last long as her phone begins to ring in her bag, which she had tucked into the glove box.

  “Sorry,” she mouths as she answers the call in a joyful tone that I can tell is as fake as they come.

  “Priscilla, I’ve been waiting for you to call…. Mmhmm.”

  I try not to eavesdrop on her conversation as I steer the car out into traffic, but in the tight confines of the vehicle, it’s difficult.

  “The script read-through is going really well. I’ve had a lot of help,” she replies coyly as she peers up at me from beneath her long lashes, then pauses to listen to Priscilla’s reply.

  “I told you one month. I’ll be back before you know it. I bet you already have a brand-new starlet you’re pushing to all the casting directors.” She looks my way and rolls her eyes.

  “Oh,” she says then, her tone changing to one of surprise and disappointment. “Well, I guess I could come back a week early, if it’s the only time the director could schedule the cast meeting.”

  Fuck, I only have two and a half more weeks with her? That’s not enough time to get her out of my system. It’s not enough time to get her out of my head.

  At the stoplight, I wait for her eyes to turn toward mine, but they don’t. Instead, she wraps an arm around her waist and grips the phone tightly as she begins to talk in more clipped tones until finally she ends the call.

  “I’m sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay. So just three weeks now?”

  “It seems so. I’m sorry, I didn’t plan it thi
s way. I wanted to spend more time with everyone.”

  “More time with you,” I decipher from the look in her eyes.

  No feelings, I keep repeating to myself. But in three days it seems we’ve both dipped our toes into those murky waters. What the hell is going to happen after three weeks? I need to remember that she’s leaving, more quickly now than originally planned, and I need to keep my emotions in check. Quinn has no desire to stay here, and I have no desire to change my bachelor ways.

  “Izzy is going to be crushed,” I hint as I pull through a fried chicken franchise’s drive-thru.

  She takes a moment to let me order, and as we’re waiting in line to pay, she asks almost innocently, “What about you?”

  Fixating on her and her mixed expression of despair and hope, I can’t bring myself to hurt her, to crush her. Instead, I speak the truth, as much as it pains me.

  “I’ll be fine, Quinn. I just need to get as much of you as I can while you’re here.”

  Her eyes search mine and I can see my words hurt her more than I intended, but I know she finds the truth in them.

  “I’m going to miss you both too, so much. You’re the closest thing I have to family.”

  Our turn to approach the window arrives, and I pay for our lunch and hand the bag to Quinn, which she immediately places on the floor between her legs.

  As we start out on the road again, I press, “What about your family, Quinn? Don’t you think you should try to see them while you’re here? It’s been years.”

  “They don’t want to see me.”

  “I thought they called the other day asking you to stop by for dinner?”

  “Yes, they did. But it isn’t to see me. It’s to chastise me for my choice of career and to tell me how much they wish I’d pursued a career in science like them. I’ve always disappointed them, and they don’t hesitate to tell me so.”

  “Wow, I had no idea.”

  “They’ve never even come out to visit me. Even when I sent them plane tickets and arranged everything. I gave up trying after two years.”

  “I’m sorry, Quinn. I really am. How about this? I can come with you to the dinner, act as a buffer.”

  A look of astonishment crosses her face, almost as if the single act of kindness is foreign to her. Surely it can’t be. People must clamor to do things for her all of the time.

  “You would do that for me?”

  “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

  Silence fills the void in the car, but it’s not unpleasant. It’s a comfortable mix of two people at ease with themselves and each other.

  “When is your next day off or whenever you have an early night?” Quinn asks as she types away on her phone.

  Thinking of my schedule, I remember that I’m covering a very early shift on Saturday and that gets me off work at noon.

  “I’m free Saturday night if that works for them.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not giving them a choice,” she replies as her fingers move rapidly until she finally tosses the phone back into her bag. She sits back with a huff and crosses her arms.

  “Everything okay?” I ask as I approach the worn dirt path off the side of the road and make the sharp right turn.

  “Yes, they’re just being difficult. Apparently it’s a burden to be told when to be available even though they asked. They frustrate me so much. And get this, they really pushed me coming alone, but I said I was bringing a guest whether they liked it or not. So you may have to charm them.”

  “Don’t worry, I can charm anyone. But I’m sure they remember me as a kid.”

  She laughs loudly, taking me by surprise as she almost curls over from her hysterics. “Don’t worry, they barely remember me as a kid and I’ve known them my whole life. I’m sure you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

  Calming herself down, she finally takes a moment to gaze out of the window and take in her surroundings. “Where are we going?”

  “My favorite spot in Dale City.” I grin as I steer the car over a few divots in the dirt path. We drive through an open field until we approach a line of trees where I park the car.

  I open the door and grab a blanket from the trunk, then make my way over to Quinn’s door.

  “Come on, it’s not far,” I tell her as she grips the plastic bag holding our food in one hand and easily slides the other into my open palm.

  We walk for a few minutes before she asks, “Do you know where you’re going?”

  I offer no explanation, just simply confirm that I know where I am and continue walking.

  That’s when I hear it, the light trickle that will grow in noise the closer we approach. Finally an opening comes into view and I grasp Quinn’s hand tighter, excited to share this spot with her. A spot I haven’t shared with anyone, not even my twin.

  “Is that…?”

  “Yep, it’s a man-made lake in the middle of nowhere.”

  I tug her behind me as I make my way toward the lake, aiming for the small sandy beach around the other side.

  I inhale the smell of the fresh water and newly cut grass and let my worries wash away. No more work, no more time limit, no more fighting off feelings. Just me and Quinn.

  Chapter Eleven

  Quinn

  I’M NOT GOING TO lie and say I wasn’t worried about where Trevor was carting me off to in the middle of the woods. And then I saw the lake, this beautiful piece of water surrounded by a covering of darkness. It was almost poetic it was so outstanding.

  And then Trevor told me this was his spot. His place to wind down, to relax, to just… be. Something I haven’t done in more years than I can remember.

  “It’s gorgeous, Trevor. Thank you so much for bringing me here. I had no idea this even existed.”

  The blanket slides off his shoulder into his grasp, and he airs it out before laying it on the sandy portion of the ground.

  “Most people don’t,” he confesses. “I had to come out here once a few years back because the owner of the property had found some squatters in an old cabin not far from here. He asked—pleaded, really—for me to patrol the area regularly. And when I agreed, he offered me full access to the lake even though I told him I would’ve done it regardless.”

  “That’s lovely of you,” I declare as I take a seat on the blanket, stretching out my body under the warm Texas sun.

  “I felt for him. He had recently lost his wife, and she was the one who had wanted the lake on their property. Apparently, she was a writer and used the cabin as her little writing space when she needed a new perspective. So there was really no way I could turn him down, even if he hadn’t offered use of the lake.”

  He continues divulging about the owner of the property and the stories he was told, and suddenly I feel an overwhelming need to kiss him, to show him how remarkable he is underneath his tough exterior, the one that seems to melt away in my presence.

  Tucking my legs under my body, I lean closer to him, cupping his cheeks and pressing my lips to his. No movement or exploration, just my mouth against his, a moment in time captured.

  As I pull back, I take a second to take him in: the green flecks in his eyes, the straight nose, straight jaw with just a hint of stubble, and swollen lips. He is the stuff of dreams. I twist so I’m once again facing the lake and extend my legs and feet outward, resting back on my hands.

  “Can I ask what that was for?”

  “No reason,” I reply. “Just felt like it was necessary.”

  My eyes are closed against the sun as I tilt my head toward the sky, but I hear his distinctive low chuckle.

  “Well, feel free to do that anytime you’d like.”

  “Will do.” I smile and turn my face away from the sun’s scorching rays, focusing on Trevor instead. “So, ready for lunch?”

  He reaches into the plastic bag between us and begins pulling out all of the fixings for a country picnic. Before I know it, I’ve got a plate full of fried chicken, potato salad, baked beans, and a biscuit situated between my legs.

/>   “So, Quinn, what’s it like being a world-famous actress?”

  “Oh, so are we doing twenty questions?”

  “Naw, just catching up,” he clarifies as he folds his empty plate and places it in the plastic bag.

  “Do I get to ask you any questions?”

  “Sure, but that doesn’t mean I’ll answer them.”

  “Fair enough. Let’s see, what is it like being a celebrity….”

  “World-famous,” he chimes in as he opens his bottle of water.

  “Yes, world-famous. Sorry. It’s great. I mean, I work too much to pay a lot of attention to what goes on around me. My agent keeps me in the know, and my publicist always makes sure I’m in the best light. I do my best to just be me, but LA can be overwhelming, so it’s hard not to lose yourself in the glitz and glamour of it all.”

  “I think you’ve done pretty well. I’m not going to lie, I don’t follow much of what you or any celebrity is up to. I don’t have the time. But Izzy and my mom are certainly proud of you.”

  I haven’t been entirely truthful about my life, and I have a sudden urge to disclose it to Trevor.

  “Something wrong? You’ve got this pinched expression on your face like you just ate a lemon.”

  The end of my braid hangs over my shoulder and I begin absentmindedly twisting it around my fingers

  “Nothing’s wrong, I just…. Being a celebrity isn’t what I signed up for. I just wanted to act. It was my passion, what I was good at. If I only ever got work on a stage, I would be thrilled. And I know I’m far luckier than many of the actors who make their way to Hollywood, don’t get me wrong, but being a celebrity is a very intrusive job. There’s little to no privacy, and everyone’s always out to get something from you. So even though I’m surrounded by people and photographers all day, I’ve never felt so… lonely.”

  His eyes take me in, never moving away from my face. I can’t see it because my gaze is locked onto the lightly swaying trees just beyond the lake, but I can feel it. I can feel his intensity and protectiveness, and most of all I can feel his pity.

  “No friends or boyfriend?”