Between the Lines

by Renee Harless

  The heaviness in his voice surprises me, and I find myself training my attention back toward him where he sits with his knees bent and elbows resting atop. He looks so handsome, his pants and polo shirt both tightly pulled against his muscles. I know he normally dresses down when he’s away from work, but the fact that he made an effort to dress nicely for the residents at the Dale City Assisted Living Facility makes me even more attracted to him.

  “The only person in Hollywood I would call a friend is my agent, Priscilla. As far as boyfriends? I had one a long time ago, but he wasn’t too thrilled when my career skyrocketed and he could barely catch a commercial. Typical story. But like I said, it’s hard to trust people because you don’t know who’s out for something else.”

  Trevor places his hand on top of mine, keeping me from twisting the ends of my hair, then snakes his arm around my shoulders and holds me close, allowing me to soak in his strength.

  “I’m sorry, Quinn. So damn sorry,” he murmurs into my hair as he presses his mouth to the top of my head.

  We sit in silence for a while until it becomes too much.

  In jest I lurch away from him, tucking under his arm with a sour expression on my face.

  “You really stink.”

  It takes him a minute, his face pinched until it’s clear that my words register. Then he pushes me just enough to almost topple me over.

  “I think you’re mistaken. You’re only smelling yourself.”

  In mock outrage, I stand up with my hands on my hips. “I do not stink!” I shout.

  “You keep telling yourself that, Quinny,” he challenges as he stands up, tugging his shirt over his head in the process. I watch in astonishment as his hands move toward the button on his pants, but that’s only in the periphery—my eyes are definitely trained on the glistening metal between his nipples.

  “What… what are you doing?” I whisper, all of my fake fury brushing away with the breeze.

  Tugging his pants down to his ankles, he then toes off his shoes and socks and before fully removing his pants. He stands there in all of his naked glory, and I can’t peel my eyes away.

  “I’m going for a dip.”

  “A dip?” I ask in confusion.

  “Yes, in the lake. Care to join me?”

  Finally tearing my eyes away from his masculine form, I look out onto the cool water of the lake and suddenly yearn to feel it against my skin.

  Hesitantly, I question, “Is it safe?” but I already plan on diving in. It looks too divine to turn away from.

  “About as safe as I am,” Trevor jokes, and then he walks right into the water, about to hip height, before diving under.

  I wait for him to emerge, my patience growing thin before he finally does so at the dock in the middle of the lake a moment later.

  I grip the edge of my dress but pause. Should I? Someone could be watching.

  “Come on,” he shouts. “Don’t be a scaredy-cat.”

  His taunt does it and I remove my dress with a whirl, tossing it behind me into a heap on the blanket where my panties and bra follow. With a running start, I crash into the calm waters and make it to about waist height before I submerge myself under the cool liquid.

  I don’t swim far, just enough that I need to tread water, but when I pop back up into the air, I’m surprised to find Trevor wading in front of me.

  “There she is.”

  “This water feels amazing. And there aren’t any creepy-crawlies in it.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that, but the owner does have a good filtration system in it because his wife liked to swim, and she too did not like creepy-crawlies.”

  Something slides across my thigh and I leap into the air practically on top of Trevor, who’s laughing raucously.

  “You asshole! I thought it was a snake,” I cry out as I hold on to him tighter. Luckily he can stand in the spot we’re in, just enough to keep his head above the water.

  “I couldn’t resist.”

  Now that I have him in close proximity, I take a chance at asking a question that’s plagued me for years.

  “Hey, Trevor?”

  “Hmm?” He swims us out closer to the dock, keeping a tight grip on my waist.

  “Why did you leave me?”

  My question is met with silence, and for a moment I fear he isn’t going to answer, but then his austere voice rings out above the expelling water from his strokes.

  “That’s a complicated answer. You see, that last night me, you, and Izzy met in the clearing, things were different. I already knew I had a crush on you, but it was the first time I thought that maybe you had one too.”

  “You had a crush on me?”

  “Shh.”

  “Sorry, I just never knew.”

  “Anyway, I thought that would be it, that the night in the clearing would be my chance to make my move. But I noticed Izzy was acting strangely. Well, stranger than she normally did, so I held back. It seemed like she needed you.

  “When I asked her about it the next day while we were all recovering from those hangovers, she said she had overheard Mom and Dad talking about an anniversary of a miscarriage from a few years after we were born. Apparently, my mom was pregnant with an unexpected baby, and she lost it. Izzy had wanted a sibling other than me for as long as I can remember, which was why she was so excited when you moved across the street. So I knew I had to keep my distance from you. You were the closest thing to a sister she was ever going to get, and I couldn’t take that from her.”

  I wade in the water, contemplating his words. It makes sense now, why Izzy pushed me that night about not having a crush on her brother, why she pushes it now.

  “So, what’s changed?” I ask.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why is now any different?”

  “Because we’re different. Because the situation is different. Because I want to know what it feels like to have you.”

  “Do you have me?” I whisper.

  Trevor’s lips brush against mine and I’m lost for a moment until he says, “I have you until you decide you don’t want me anymore.”

  I don’t need much buildup as Trevor eases himself into me. Our bodies are in sync enough that the delicious friction has us plummeting over the edge quickly.

  From our stakeout on the dock, we dry under the sun, both of us baring our bodies to the heat. We speak about nothing and everything, just about our lives. The trivial things that don’t matter to anyone else but ourselves. I learn that he loves Chinese food and late-night movies, and he hasn’t taken a vacation since he graduated high school and his parents took him and Izzy to the Bahamas. I also learned that they had booked a ticket for me as well, but I had stubbornly left with a quick “good riddance.”

  Trevor keeps a tight grasp on my hand, almost as if he’s afraid I’ll slip away, but it’s fine with me because the touch of his hand against my palm makes me feel complete.

  The sun begins to drop behind the tree line, and we begrudgingly make our way back to the beach in the heated water. I feel like we’re out of our own cocoon and into a world separate from our own.

  As we tug on our clothes, Trevor mentions having to go to the store to grab items for the lasagna, and I offer to tag along.

  Now that my time with him has been cut short, I want to be as close to him as possible—feelings be damned.

  Chapter Twelve

  Trevor

  WHAT HAD BEEN A great afternoon with Quinn on Wednesday turned into a nightmare when Izzy questioned why we arrived home after her. We didn’t lie, but we only told her about the picnic at the lake, not what happened in the water. That would’ve scarred her for life. Instead, we ate an awkward meal, and I had to leave Quinn without so much as a kiss on the cheek.

  I haven’t seen her for two days, both due to my schedule and Izzy. I’m fearful of crossing that line again because I know how much Quinn means to my sister. She isn’t just her best friend, she’s the sister Izzy always wanted.

  I’ve b
een craving her, still crave her, and the only release I’ve been able to find is with my own palm or a workout in my home gym. I’ve worked out so much in the last two days that every muscle in my body aches.

  The clock on my computer finally switches from 11:59 a.m. to 12:00 p.m., and I hurriedly grab my bag and make my way out of the station.

  Once I step foot in my door, I send a message to Quinn letting her know I’m home and to text me when she wants me to pick her up.

  Hoping the answer is sooner rather than later, I divulge myself of my clothes and quickly jump into the shower. Normally I’ll spend a few good minutes underneath the warm spray, letting the rivulets cleanse me, but today I’m hurried because I’m beyond anxious to see Quinn.

  With the towel wrapped firmly around my waist, I exit my master bath only to stop suddenly with my mouth hanging agape.

  “You’re going to catch flies like that,” my sweet southern belle laughs as she sits primly on the corner of my bed.

  “Quinn, I—what are you doing here?”

  “I….” She hesitates as she glances down at her hands twisting in her lap.

  Meandering slowly toward her, I stop just beyond her knees. She must notice my towel in her line of sight because she tilts her head back to gaze up at me.

  “You what, sweetheart?”

  “I just missed you, that’s all.”

  I tug her legs toward my body, knocking her back onto the bed, her hair spreads around her face like a golden halo.

  “You are so beautiful,” I whisper.

  “Kiss me, Trevor.”

  Swooping in, I merge our mouths together, licking and sucking at her lips until she begins to rock her hips against the softness of my towel. My back arches as I bend over her, sliding my knee between the apex of her thighs. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her that I can feel the vein in my cock pulsating as blood surges toward my erection.

  Quinn’s slender fingers reach for the knot in my towel at the same time I hear a single knock and then the front door to my house open. I push myself away from Quinn reluctantly and stand in front of my dresser in hopes to hide the obvious tent beneath the towel.

  “Hey, Trevor,” I hear Izzy shout as she comes up the stairs. Quinn scrambles to find someplace to go, but she’s too late and just settles back on the bed. “Can I borrow the keys—what’s going on?”

  Quinn’s face pales in horror, but luckily nothing on her is out of place, not even a single wave in her hair.

  “Hey, sis. Quinn asked me to go with her to her parents’ house tonight to help diffuse any problems at dinner. She was just stopping by to ask, but she caught me while I was in the shower.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Izzy firmly declares as she crosses her arms over her chest.

  “It’s true, Iz,” Quinn jumps in. “You’re going on that date with Vic tonight, and I just knew I’d need someone to come with me. You know I hate dinners with my parents.”

  “Then why are you still in a towel, T?”

  I roll my eyes. “Because I just got out of the shower, Iz, like literally a minute before you walked in. I was grabbing clothes to go change, and then I was coming right back out. Calm down or you’re going to get wrinkles.”

  “I am not!” she shouts, then shakily puts her hand to her head and rushes into the bathroom to check for any crevices in her skin.

  “You okay?” I mouth to Quinn, who shrugs indifferently.

  Izzy comes back into the room and snarls at me like a rabid dog.

  “I hate you sometimes.”

  “No you don’t. Now, what is it you want?”

  “For you to put clothes on.”

  “Iz!”

  “Fine, I was going to ask if I could borrow the keys to the Shelby.”

  My back stiffens as she asks to take out my restored 1965 Shelby Mustang. Izzy isn’t known to be the most cautious behind the wheel, and I can just imagine my baby wrapped around some tree at her expense.

  “I’m not sure, Iz.”

  “What if I let Vic drive? He wants to go to Houston tonight, and it’s so gorgeous outside.”

  Maybe if I let her use the car she’ll forget about what she almost walked in on moments ago. Hopefully.

  “All right, Iz. But only if Vic drives it, understand?”

  “Yes, two-minute-older brother, I promise. You’re the best.”

  “I know.” I slip the key ring into her waiting grasp. “Take good care of her,” I implore as she twirls on her heels and exits the room.

  She pauses at the top of the steps and peers into the bedroom, only gazing at me.

  “You too, Trevor.”

  Back in the room, I’m greeted with silence. Quinn is now standing awkwardly next to my king-size bed, her face carrying the weight of a thousand mistakes.

  “I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry.”

  Having shoved my legs into a pair of dark jeans, I let them hang loosely around my hips as I stalk toward Quinn, my bare feet slapping across the hardwood until they meet the soft fibers of the rug.

  “I’m glad you did.”

  “But now Izzy’s on alert. I think she suspects something, Trevor.”

  “Probably.”

  “Trevor!”

  Taking her hand in mine, I rub the soft knuckles on top, the movement instantly relaxing her.

  “Sweetheart, look. We both know Izzy isn’t stupid. She’s trying to piece things together that she suspected while we were in school. But she also isn’t going to say anything unless she has hardcore evidence. She doesn’t like confrontation.”

  Her chest rises and falls as she takes a shuddering breath and then steps into my arms, pressing her warm cheek against my bare chest.

  “I can’t lose her as a friend,” Quinn sighs into my chest, and I instinctively place my hand on the back of her head, holding her closer to me.

  “You won’t lose her as a friend. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Even if that means having to walk away.

  “Come on.” I step away, instantly missing the heat from her body pressed against mine. “I believe we have a few hours to kill until we’re needed at dinner.”

  Quinn nods silently and then moves toward my bedroom door.

  “I’m just… going to wait for you downstairs.”

  “Are you sure? I’ll be just a minute.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.”

  I watch her retreating back head down the stairs and then shake the unsettling feeling in my chest. I have to keep reminding myself that there are no feelings. It’s the only way to keep it simple and uncomplicated. But fuck, if her broken face doesn’t pierce something inside of me.

  I quickly throw on a henley T-shirt that fits a bit snug against my arms and chest. Quinn said the dinner was informal, so I don’t grab a button-down shirt though a part of me still thinks I should, just in case. It’s hot and humid out today, and I wish I could just toss on a pair of shorts, but I want to look like I made some sort of effort for her parents. Sliding my feet into a pair of running shoes, I glide down the steps and search for Quinn.

  She isn’t in the living room or the kitchen. In a bit of panic, I start to scramble around my house, afraid she’s deserted me, deserted us. My shoes skid across the hardwood floor as my dread rises, filling my stomach with fear. Suddenly I hear a squeaking coming from outside and I rush toward my front door.

  My beautiful girl sits on the porch swing, one leg tucked under the other while the toe of her boot rests on the wood of the porch, rocking her back and forth. Her golden hair drapes over her shoulder in silky waves as she lays her head along the top of the bench, peering out over my front yard.

  I take a moment to take her in before I break her peacefulness. The screen door thumps behind me, and Quinn flinches slightly, but her body doesn’t move from its position.

  “I wondered where you went.”

  “Sorry. It’s such a lovely day out, and with the fan overhead it’s just perfect.”

  The pull of her c
loseness is too overwhelming and I find myself mindlessly drifting toward her, taking the seat beside her on the swing. She immediately begins to reposition her head and legs, but I throw my arm on the back of the bench and push her head back down onto my shoulder. It’s faint but I can hear her sigh of contentment as I begin to rock the swing with my feet, allowing her to pull her other leg up onto the bench.

  The breeze from the overhead fan keeps the Texas heat at bay and I fall into a deep relaxation, the first I’ve had in years. My fingers absentmindedly drag up and down Quinn’s smooth arms, and I smirk when a shiver shakes her body.

  I can’t help but feel that this moment, this feeling, is perfect.

  “What if your sister sees us?” Quinn implores in a voice rough with pleasure, and then I realize that I spoke my thoughts out loud.

  Tilting my head, I peer down into Quinn’s hesitant brown eyes, alarm and shame churning in them.

  I slide my hand into her hair, gripping the strands harshly, and bring her head toward me.

  “Don’t care,” I murmur against her lips as I meld them with mine. It takes a bit of persistence, but she finally relaxes and opens herself to me. My tongue explores the far reaches of her mouth, her own sliding against mine with every pass. Her taste is addictive, exotic, and I want more, so much more. For a moment I forget where we are, rocking back and forth on my porch swing for anyone to see, and grip Quinn’s waist and tug her onto my lap. Instantly I feel her heat between her legs through the thick denim of my jeans and my arousal stiffens. With my hands planted firmly on her hips, I rock her against my erection and capture her moan in my mouth.

  “Trevor,” she says between kisses. “We need to stop.”

  I have little strength to halt my movements; she feels too good against me.

  Shakily, she appeals again, and I find the power to pull back from her sweet taste.

  Her eyes remain closed as I stare, memorizing her beautiful features. To most, her ivory skin, wide brown eyes, plump lips, and button nose make her attractive. But to me, it’s the innocence of her gaze, the way her mouth curves subtly as if she always has a small smile in place, and the softness of her cheeks.

  She’s not beautiful because she’s a world-famous actress. She’s beautiful because she’s little Quinn Miller who moved across the street when we were thirteen. She’s beautiful because she followed her dreams and made something of herself. She’s beautiful because even if I never have another chance to have her in my arms, I’ll remember every detail of how it felt to have her for just a moment, just a dash of our lifetime, and she let me have that chance.