“Because you just told her you love her. I thought you didn’t commit. Do you have a long-distance girlfriend?”
He found her top and handed it over. “No.”
“Then who’s Layla?”
Every time she said Layla’s name, alarms went off in his head, and by the third time, it was making him jumpy, so he stopped searching for her bikini bottoms and met her accusatory stare. “That’s none of your business.”
Her mouth fell open as she leaned back, offended enough to cover her chest with her arms, and he closed his eyes while drawing a deep breath.
“Listen,” he added, finding her fiery gaze. “I’m sorry if I sound harsh, but it’s true. My dreams are none of your business. I don’t have a girlfriend, long-distance or otherwise, and I’ve never met anyone named Layla. Okay?”
“Whatever,” she grumbled, clearly not okay. “Help me find the other half of my bikini.”
He obeyed, at a loss for ways to make the situation better, and he still hadn’t said anything by the time she’d dressed and headed for the exit.
“Abby, wait.”
“What?” she snapped, spinning around.
He stood and took her by the arm, making sure his silencing spell still held. “Everyone here assumes you lost your virginity last night.”
“So?”
“So some of those guys are jerks and won’t refrain from disrespectful chatter and rude stares. Do you really want to stomp out of here into a walk of shame completely unprepared?”
This made her stop and think, but then her scowl deepened as her anger flared. “Why do you care?”
“Hey,” he sharply countered, leaning close enough to make her pay attention, “I never promised you anything I’m not delivering. You came to me, and I told you the truth every step of the way, so dial down your temper before you do something you’ll regret.”
“Like what? Let the world know we fucked?”
“They already know, so if you want to emerge from my tent throwing a fit, go ahead. I don’t give a shit what they think about me, but you do care. That’s why you came to me. So I suggest you take a moment to regain your poise, put on something besides a bikini, and walk from this tent like the lady you are. Don’t give those guys more ammunition than they already have.”
She huffed and pulled her arm from his grasp, but he could tell he’d gotten through to her. “My dress is out there.”
“On your chair?”
“I think so.”
He closed his eyes and summoned her gown. Then he studied her aura as she pulled the dress over her head. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, Abby. That’s not what I wanted to do. I’m honored you offered to share something so important with me, and I tried to handle it with respect. I’m sorry if you feel like I didn’t.”
“You did. I just… I don’t know. You say another woman’s name in your sleep then blow me off when I ask about it. And it’s weird how certain you are that you don’t want to do it again. I mean, you liked it, right?”
“It felt great, but that’s as far as it goes. You’d be better off finding someone else to share yourself with, someone who wants more than the physical part, because I can tell you want more, and I can’t give it to you.”
“So you’ve said,” she sighed, glancing at the exit. “Guess I’m off to do my walk of shame.”
He shook his head. “Don’t let anyone shame you for what happened last night. You’re walking out of here with as much respect as you had when you entered. As long as you believe that, what they think doesn’t matter.”
“Do you believe that?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’ll take it.” Pushing her shoulders back, she lifted her head high and turned away. “Thanks for letting me crash in here.”
“You’re welcome. Would you prefer I go first?”
“Um… sure.”
She moved aside, and he stepped out, holding the canvas flaps open so she could do the same. Several people were up and milling around, and of course they all looked over, but Quin ignored them while speaking to Abigail. “Are you staying for breakfast?”
“No.”
Good. Her safest bet was to fly away immediately. “Then I’ll see you later.”
“Yep. See ya.”
He expected her to walk a few steps then take flight, but she marched all the way to Weylin, who sat on a log, drinking coffee and cooking bacon over an open fire. They talked for a few seconds, and while Quin couldn’t hear what was said, he knew he’d hear all about it once she left.
Sure enough, the moment her aura disappeared over the trees, Weylin scowled at Quin and threw his hands in the air. “What the fuck, man? One night. One fucking night.”
Quin closed the distance between them while scanning the clearing for witches, but everyone around was male. “What did she say?”
“She asked if I know Layla.”
Quin rolled his eyes and summoned a cup of coffee. Then he sat by the fire and sipped.
“Are you serious, Quin?” Weylin continued. “You get one night with the hottest witch around, and you don’t care that a dream blew it?”
“Nothing was blown.”
“Bummer,” Brynton quipped.
Quin shook his head as he leaned against a log. “Asking a virgin to blow me is not my idea of a good time.”
“Holy shit,” Weylin objected. “Tell me you did not leave that girl a virgin.”
“Fuck off,” Quin shot back. “What if I did?”
Weylin continued to scowl as he studied Quin’s aura. Then a broad smile stretched across his scruffy face. “Ah… you almost had me fooled, but I know better. You popped your first cherry last night.” He paused and shook his head. “Then you muttered another girl’s name in your sleep. I can’t believe that shit.”
“I can’t believe she told you about it. You’d think she’d want to keep that to herself.”
“She’s curious. Wouldn’t you be?”
“No. She could have said a dozen names in her sleep, and I wouldn’t give a shit.”
“You are so fucking weird, Quin. I never know what to expect from you.”
Quin smirked and stole a piece of bacon. “Good.”
Weylin picked up a twig and chucked it at Brynton, who was only half awake. “Go get the eggs out of my tent.”
Brynton grumbled a complaint while getting to his feet and shuffling away, and once he was out of earshot, Weylin looked at Quin and lowered his voice. “So? How was it?”
“Meh,” Quin answered, stealing another piece of bacon.
Weylin stared at him with his mouth hanging open, too shocked by his answer to notice his thievery. “Meh?”
“Yeah,” Quin confirmed.
Weylin mumbled as he looked away. “So fucking weird. But you don’t regret it, right?”
“Actually…”
“Never mind,” Weylin interrupted, raising a hand. “Just… never mind.”
Quin quietly laughed while taking a bite and recalling the experience, deciding he didn’t regret all of it. He’d made a few mistakes, learned a few things, and in the end, he got to share a dance with his dream girl. He couldn’t complain, but he also knew taking a girl’s virginity wasn’t something he ever wanted to do again… unless that girl was Layla. If Layla came to him a virgin, he’d gladly be her first.
~The End~
Want more Quin?
Quin 2
Quin 3
Books by B.C. Burgess
The Mystic Series
Descension
Impassion
Deception
Retribution
Destruction
Devastation
Quin 1
Quin 2
Quin 3
About the Author
B. C. Burgess is a small town girl born and raised in Oklahoma, where she still resides with her devoted husband and their young son. She’s addicted to coffee and writing and thinks the combination is heaven. Inspired to write by her love of read
ing, she feels fiction provides a healthy escape from the hardships of life, and hopes her stories touch the hearts of her readers, just as she’s been touched time and again. Though most of her visions flower in the form of fiction, she dreams of the day her passion for writing, along with determination and hard work, will prove to her son creative dreams can come true.
If you like the tales B. C. weaves, let her know.
She loves hearing from her readers.
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www.bcburgess.com
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Quin 1 (The Mystic Series) Page 5