Something Like Normal

by Monica James

  “But you said it was for the best to stay away from one another,” I murmur, baffled.

  “There’s always tomorrow,” he simply replies.

  “And tonight?” I question, almost afraid to know his answer.

  “Tonight is ours,” he whispers, deep in his throat.

  The moment his lips trail slow, hot kisses along my jawline, my skin breaks out into tiny goose bumps, and I nearly rocket off the sofa at the surreal, but pleasurable sensation. When his stubble softly sweeps across my face, a heat begins to build low in my belly and I involuntarily arch my head back, my eyes slipping shut, relishing in the feel of his gentle lips on my skin.

  His lip ring grazes over the shell of my right ear as he takes the lobe into his mouth, sucking with a delicious friction. It feels just as I imagined it would, cold and warm all at the same time.

  I’m close to exploding as he begins kissing down the side of my neck, and lazily licking over my burning flesh, the barbell in his mouth sending a chill throughout my entire body.

  “Holy shit,” I murmur, because the feeling is mind blowing.

  My neck has been kissed before, but never like this.

  “Are you okay with this?” he asks huskily as he places a kiss at the edge of my mouth, but never my lips.

  “Yes.”

  Wisps of his silken hair brush over my cheeks as he moves onto my left ear, giving it the same treatment as my right. And when he finally lowers himself onto me, the feel of his chest against mine is like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

  We moan softly in unison, and I’m glad I’m not the only one affected by our union.

  With his left hand still resting by my temple, he sashays his right thumb along my bottom lip, spreading the moisture over my full lip. I slip my tongue out apprehensively, and when the tip touches his thumb, he exhales softly. Thumbing the middle of my lip, he slowly slides it down my chin, under my neck and then down between my breasts. I’m well aware of the fact that my heart is beating uncontrollably, and I have no doubt he can feel it beating wildly against his thumb.

  As he snakes it down lower, his forearm brushes over my nipple and it instantly pebbles in response to his touch, the other joining in quick succession. I know he can feel them both pushing into him, but he doesn’t make a grab for them and is the perfect gentleman.

  “Can I?” he asks as his delicate fingers start a dance of the devil when they begin grazing over my belly.

  I moan in response.

  As his hand slides lower and touches bare skin, I jerk in shock, and in pure desire. He exhales heavily as his hand inches higher and higher up my leg, but suddenly, the fact I’m royally naked underneath hits home, and I freeze.

  “Are you all right?” he asks, his hand stilling on my upper thigh.

  My eyes are still closed, but as I open them, a sliver of the moon has crept through a section of curtain, lighting him up before me. The look in his eyes is one of pure desire, but I know he would stop if I asked him to.

  I bite my lip and his eyes instantly follow the movement. I want him to touch me, but I’m afraid.

  “It’s okay, I’ll stop,” he says, moving his hand back up, resting it on my tummy. “You should get some sleep anyway, as I heard your boss is a slave driver,” he jokes, the moonlight glowing off his lip ring.

  I smirk and hope he’s taking about Hank, and not Tristan.

  He rolls off me and I miss his weight instantly. But he surprises me as he rolls onto his side, pulling me close, into his embrace.

  We are nose to nose, and our breaths are mingling into one. And it feels… nice.

  “Goodnight, Red,” he whispers, pulling me even closer so we are flush against one another.

  “Are you staying down here?” I ask, looking into his eyes, wishing I could see him clearer.

  He nods, his hair brushing my cheeks. “If that’s all right with you. If you’re going to dream about me, the least I can do is be here for it.”

  I chuckle. “I’d like that.”

  I’ve never slept with anyone before. I’ve never slept beside anyone before, either.

  “Maybe I can keep those nightmares away,” he whispers after a minute of silence, wrapping his arm loosely around my waist, his hand resting on my lower back.

  “That’ll be nice,” I reply sleepily, my eyes drooping drowsily, not even asking how he knows I have bad dreams.

  As I close my eyes, I drift off and experience the first dreamless night in years.

  Chapter 21

  Things Just Got Complicated

  I wake to my face getting licked continuously.

  I lazily open one eye and am greeted by morning breath.

  Lucky’s breath.

  My eyes snap open as I realize where I am.

  And that I’m also alone.

  Where’s Quinn?

  I know I didn’t dream last night as I can still feel his lips and hands all over my body, and I’m slightly disappointed to wake up without him. Falling asleep in his arms was the best feeling in the world, and it’s something I could quickly become addicted to. I actually slept through, without a single nightmare, or waking up in a cold sweat.

  I don’t know what it is about Quinn, but whatever it is, I want more. We hadn’t even kissed and he had the ability to turn me inside out.

  We both know the smart thing to do would be stay away from each other, but after last night, I don’t think that I can.

  I look around the small, but cosy living room, and it’s pretty obvious it’s a bachelor pad as the decor is very manly.

  The huge plasma which sits on a wooden TV unit is the centerpiece of the room, and underneath sits an Xbox and a stack of DVDs. The room is a soft grey, and the heavy, navy curtains set off the wooden coffee table and side table nicely.

  The mantel is bare, and as one would usually have family photographs adorning the shelving, the Berkeley house does not.

  It makes me wonder where Donna is.

  My eyes flick over to the coffee table, and I notice my backpack sitting on the floor bedside it.

  Quinn.

  I have no doubt he did this as he didn’t want Tristan waking up and seeing me in Quinn’s t-shirt.

  Deep down, I know my attraction for Quinn is going to get someone hurt. And I have no doubt that Quinn knows it, too. But after last night, I’m powerless to stop it.

  Lucky nuzzles my hand, wagging his tail and looking at me with those eyes.

  “Okay, let me get dressed, and then I’ll find you something to eat,” I say, rubbing his head.

  Creeping up to the bathroom with Lucky in tow, I quickly change and fold up Quinn’s t-shirt, giving it one final sniff. I neatly place it on top of the basin with Tristan’s and sigh, wishing I never had to take it off.

  Putting on some makeup so I don’t appear too ghostly, I tie my thick hair into a messy ponytail, not even bothering to brush it. Squeezing a bit of toothpaste onto my finger, I use it as a makeshift toothbrush as I give myself one final look in the mirror.

  Satisfied I look and smell okay, I’m out the bathroom door, making my way into the living room to tidy up the sofa before I leave. As I’m folding up the blanket, I hear plates clanging in the kitchen. Eager to catch Quinn before Tristan is up, I cross my fingers and duck my head around the corner, hoping it’s him, but it’s not.

  “Good morning. How did you sleep?” Tristan asks, cracking two eggs into a red frying pan.

  “Great,” I reply, failing to mention why.

  “Oh, that’s awesome. Looks like the lumpy sofa isn’t too bad after all,” he smirks, adding a dash of salt to his eggs.

  I return his smile and Lucky nudges my hand when Tristan opens up a packet of bacon.

  Tristan chuckles. “Don’t worry little guy, I got some for you, too. Take a seat,” he says to me, pointing his spatula toward a chair.

  Lucky sits happily, waiting patiently by my side as I take a seat at the kitchen table, fiddling with an empty beer bottle.

  “Whatcha g
ot planned today?” he asks, because it’s Saturday and I’m not rostered on at the diner.

  “I got a shift this morning at the motel, and then I was thinking of giving this little guy a bath,” I reply, looking down at Lucky.

  Lucky looks up at me and both his ears drop in disapproval.

  Tristan smirks. “Good luck with that. Would you like some?” he asks, pointing to the breakfast which is popping away on the hotplate.

  I shake my head as I’ve never been a big breakfast eater.

  “Red looks more like a coffee drinker, than an eggs and bacon kinda girl,” says Quinn as he saunters into the kitchen with a smirk.

  I’m glad I’m not currently eating or drinking, as I would have choked at the sight before me.

  Quinn has obviously just stepped out of the shower, as his wet hair curls up at the nape and is flicked backward, like he’s combed his fingers through it, tousling it just the right way so it falls rebelliously. His snug, black jeans are tucked into military boots, and he’s wearing the Johnny Cash t-shirt I was sporting only twenty minutes ago.

  “Morning,” he grins when he sees my jaw hit the table.

  I half grunt, half choke in response.

  Why is he wearing that t-shirt?

  The thought that his naked skin is rubbing up against a piece of fabric that my naked skin was all up in last night has my stomach somersaulting in happiness.

  Quinn pulls two mugs out from a cupboard above his head, pouring a cup for himself and another for me.

  “How’d you sleep?” he asks with a smug smirk as he strolls over to the kitchen table, his boots pounding on the kitchen tiles.

  He passes me the mug, and as I reach for it, our fingers overlap. No doubt he’s done this on purpose as he gets his kicks out of watching me squirm.

  “Fine,” I reply, unable to meet his eyes as I accept the mug, cautious not to touch his hand again.

  He chuckles and takes a seat near me, while Lucky shifts to sit near him.

  “Traitor,” I mumble under my breath, but Quinn hears me and smiles.

  “You working today?” Tristan asks Quinn, who nods while sipping his black coffee.

  “Where do you work?” I ask casually, tracing the circular pattern on my coffee mug.

  “In hell,” he replies, tilting his head to the side, watching me closely.

  What is he doing? I feel naked under his gaze, and as I remember how close that was to happening last night, my body shivers in delight.

  “He works at Gary’s Garage downtown,” Tristan replies with a grin as Quinn is more interested in having a stare off with me than answer my question.

  “Oh. That explains you tinkering around on Hank’s truck,” I say, sipping my coffee, looking at Quinn over the rim on my mug.

  “Yeah, that thing isn’t safe with you behind the wheel,” he comments with a full grin.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I retort, folding my arms over my chest.

  He chuckles. “I’ve seen you handle yourself around a bag. I can only imagine you’d give the poor Old Girl a beating.”

  I open my mouth in protest, but Tristan joins in, chuckling along with Quinn.

  “It’s true, Paige. I’ve seen you zip out of the car park at work,” Tristan pipes up, holding back his laughs.

  “What?” I spin around to face him. “I do not!” I shout, eyes wide.

  “Tris told me he almost lost a leg when you reversed out the other day,” Quinn jokes from behind me.

  “Oh, fuck you both!” I cry out, but suddenly I’m joining in with their laughter.

  Lucky barks excitedly and spins in a circle, enjoying the chatter filling the kitchen, and I can’t help but reflect how normal this is. I never thought sitting in a kitchen, on a Saturday morning with two brothers, and a dog, could make me so… happy.

  Quinn stands up, gulping down his coffee and giving Lucky a pat on his head.

  “Laters.”

  That’s it? Really?

  I try not to pout, or make it obvious that I’m a little disappointed that after last night, he’s not even going to acknowledge that something happened between us.

  “See ya, bro,” Tristan says, turning his back to us to serve up his breakfast.

  Quinn takes this stolen moment to reach down and lay the briefest of kisses on my forehead. It’s so quick I barely feel it, but the feel of his lips transports me back to last night when I was all but detonating under him.

  As he pulls away, I meet his eyes and I don’t like the look reflected in them.

  I see finality.

  So, it looks like he meant what he said.

  This can’t be the end.

  Can it?

  ***

  Tristan isn’t working today and has kindly offered to help me wash Lucky.

  “Okay, on the count of three.

  One,

  Two,

  Three!”

  Nice try.

  Lucky goes bolting into one direction, while Tristan and I go in the other.

  Hank cackles hysterically while leaning against the door frame of the office, eating a bag of nuts. Tristan huffs out a breath, which shifts his messy bangs off his forehead, and I can’t help but bite back a smile.

  We’ve been trying for the past twenty minutes to coax Lucky toward us to give him a much needed bath. But the bright green hose Tristan is holding is obviously a dead giveaway as to what we’re planning.

  Lucky stands a few feet away, ready to dart away if we come anywhere near him.

  Tristan looks at me, raising his pierced eyebrow. “This isn’t funny.”

  “Yeah, it kinda is,” I reply, covering my mouth to stop the bubbles of laughter from escaping.

  Tristan narrows his eyes at Lucky.

  “It’s gonna happen, dog. Stop fighting me,” Tristan says as Lucky barks at him, wagging his tail, thinking this is all a big game of chasey.

  “Paige!” Grandpa calls out. “Catch!” and he tosses me a tin of dog food.

  As I catch it, I look at the label.

  “Ooh, roast chicken. Where’d you get this?” I ask, as it’s extremely random for someone to have a can of dog food without owning an actual dog.

  “It was left behind in one of the rooms,” he replies with a shrug.

  I scrunch up my brow. “When did you ever allow dogs in the rooms?”

  “Never,” he replies with a wrinkled smile.

  “So, either someone snuck in their dog, or they were into some serious, fucked up kinky shit,” I reply seriously.

  Both Tristan and Grandpa break out into loud fits of laughter while I shiver at the gross images passing through my brain.

  “Okay, Lucky, you want some?” I ask in a high pitched voice, hoping to spark some interest as I open up the tin.

  And it does.

  Lucky walks toward me, eyeing the food and nothing else. I give Tristan a small nod, and when Lucky is within reaching distance, Tristan dives for him.

  Lucky doesn’t flinch as he’s still eyeballing the food.

  “Good boy,” I coo, patting him on the head, while scooping out a handful of food and placing it in front of his mouth.

  Tristan eases the hose on and begins rinsing Lucky’s matted coat, while I hand feed him. I can’t help but watch the way Tristan’s fingers brush through Lucky’s fur with gentleness and care. This man before me has a heart so pure and real, I can’t help but feel blessed to be in his company.

  But I have to tread with caution, as I haven’t failed to notice the longing glances he’s been giving me when he thinks I haven’t been looking. I don’t want to give him the wrong impression because I don’t like him in that way. I shouldn’t be liking anyone in that way, but I do. And I don’t know what to do about it.

  The look in Quinn’s eyes this morning keeps playing on my mind, and I’m afraid he’s going to keep to his word. I know it’s for the best, but why do I feel so empty inside at the thought of never feeling his hands on me ever again?

  Lucky nudges m
y hand, snapping me out of my blackout.

  “Sorry, boy,” I apologize, while scooping out more food with my fingers.

  “You know, there are things called silverware you could use,” jokes Tristan while soaping up Lucky’s back.

  I shrug. “I’ve had my hands in worse.”

  “Yeah?” Tristan asks, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yup,” I reply, not wanting to go there with him.

  “You know you can trust me, right?” Tristan says, looking down at me.

  I nod, giving him a small smile. “I know.” And I mean it.

  This is one of the many things I like about Tristan. He doesn’t push.

  “So, I was thinking of having a party for my birthday,” Tristan says, rinsing the soap off of Lucky.

  “Yeah?” I ask, remembering him mentioning his birthday was coming up soon. “When is it?”

  “Next weekend,” he replies with a smile.

  “Awesome. You should totally do something. You only turn twenty-one once,” I answer, brushing my hair out of my eyes with the back of my hand, as my hands are covered in dog food and slobber.

  Tristan nods and sucks his lip ring into his mouth.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, surprised I can see his mood shift before my eyes.

  “It’s my dad,” he answers.

  “What about him?”

  He pauses and releases his lip.

  “He splits for the whole year, but for some fucked up reason, he always seems to turn up on my birthday and ruin it.”

  “What a jackass,” I mumble, shaking my head.

  Tristan chuckles and the sound reminds me so much of Quinn. “That he is.”

  “You wanna know what I think?” I say, scraping out the last of the dog food.

  “Sure,” Tristan replies, rinsing Lucky.

  “Fuck him. Don’t let him ruin another birthday. Your dad being a dick is an even bigger reason to have an epic birthday party. And if he turns up, you’ll have a posse of people ready to kick his ass,” I add with a smirk.

  Tristan nods, his face lighting up in a big smile. “You’re right. Here’s to a birthday like no other.” He releases Lucky, as he’s done washing him.