Hanging by a Moment (Keeping Score #2)

by Tawdra Kandle

  “I always will be.” He tipped up my chin and kissed my lips, softly. “Nothing in my life works without you.”

  “Then I guess we need to make sure we stick together.” I leaned forward to deepen our kiss. “Hey, Leo?”

  “Hmmm?” He was focused on my mouth, tracing the seam of my lips with the tip of his tongue.

  “Make love to me, please?” I pressed my body closer to his, just to bring home my point.

  Leo drew back a little, his eyes filled with concern. “Are you sure you want that, Mia? We don’t have to do anything. Trust me, just holding you every night has been like heaven on earth for me. We don’t have to do anything more than that.”

  “We might not have to, but I’m telling you . . . I need you. I want you to take my mind off everything.”

  “I’m never going to deny you, babe.” His arms slid around me, and his hands cupped my ass. “But I could just make you feel good. We don’t have to . . . you know.”

  “Engage in full sexual intercourse?” I whispered, teasing, just in case my mom happened to have woken up and was wandering past my bedroom door. “But I want to.”

  Leo rolled to his back, flinging his arms on either side of him. “Fine. Have at me, woman. I’m not going to stop you. Do what you must.”

  Smiling a little, I sprawled over his body, desire surging when I felt his erection hard between my legs. “Gladly.”

  “So what now?”

  My mom and I sat at the kitchen table, alone with each other for the first time in over a week. She’d showered and put on jeans and a T-shirt, but I could tell that after yesterday, the effort to do even these most basic things had tired her. Her always-bright eyes were dim, with deep shadows beneath them. I wondered how well she’d been sleeping these nights while I was finding comfort in Leo’s arms.

  I sighed and shifted in my chair, not sure how to answer her question. I was eighteen years old and a brand-new high school graduate. My parents had always taught me to be independent and to think for myself, but somewhere deep inside, I’d counted on not having to be an adult for a while longer. I was heading to college in the fall, true, but my parents were paying for what my grant didn’t provide, and I’d known they’d have my back over those four years.

  But now, my mother was looking at me as if I might have answers to questions she didn’t know how to ask.

  “Well . . .” I tried to think about what my dad would say. “I guess we need to figure out first things first, right? Like the house. Can we afford to keep it, or do we have to move?”

  My mom nodded. “We don’t have to make any decisions about the house right away. Dad and I both have—well, had—life insurance that pays off the mortgage in the event of a death.” She gripped the edge of the table. “I remember when we got it. It sounded so ridiculous, to think that either one of us would die before we’d finished paying for this house.”

  I covered her hand with mine. “It is ridiculous. It’s ridiculous that Dad is gone. But I’m glad you guys did that, because I’m not sure I could handle leaving the house yet.” I paused. “What about the beach house?”

  “We should be able to hold onto that, too. I make enough to cover those payments, and there will be some other insurance money, too.” She seemed to want to say something else, and I watched her struggle to couch her words. “Uncle Doug mentioned something to me. He said we may want to think about suing the other driver in the accident. It’s not going to bring Daddy back to us, but it could help with your college, or maybe your first house someday.”

  I frowned. “What do you think about that?”

  Mom sighed. “I really don’t know. Honestly, I don’t want to think about it right now. Maybe down the road, but at this minute, I can only deal with putting one foot in front of the other, you know? I’m still trying to wrap my mind around this reality. Every morning, I wake up and hope it was a nightmare. I need to focus on some more positive stuff for the future. I can’t deal with it yet.”

  “Then let’s table it for now.” I gnawed on the inside of my lip. What I wanted to bring up next wasn’t going to be easy, I knew. “About college, Mom. I’ve been thinking.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at me. “Yes?” Her tone was one of both trepidation and challenge.

  “I think I’m not going to go to Evans.”

  “Bullshit.” Her answer came so swiftly that I knew she’d been expecting this.

  “No, listen, Mom. I’m serious. I’m not saying I won’t go to college, but I don’t want to go to Evans.”

  “You don’t want to go to the college you’ve been dreaming about for two years? The college your dad was so excited for you to attend?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe that’s part of it. Maybe I don’t want to go to Evans without Daddy here to cheer me on.” Tears filled my eyes as I remembered his last words to me, about being in the front row of my college graduation.

  My mother glanced away from me. We both knew tears were contagious. “So, what’s your plan? Ditch college altogether?”

  “Of course not.” I took a deep breath. “I was thinking about going to Birch instead.”

  “Birch? Really?” She sat back in her chair, considering. “You were accepted there. They were one of your back-up schools, though. Why would you want to give up the journalism program at Evans for Birch?”

  “For a few reasons.” I’d actually been thinking about this quite a bit in the last two days. “First of all, Gia mentioned something to me the other day about a brand-new program Birch is offering this year. It’s not pure journalism; it’s more like a combo of social media, digital marketing and journalism, all wrapped up together. I think it sounds amazing.”

  “All right.” My mother nodded. “That’s one reason. What’s another?”

  I scrunched down in my chair a little. “I don’t want to go that far from you. Birch is just fifteen minutes away.”

  “Quinn. Really, I’m going to be okay. I’m not going to have you staying home and throwing away your future because you feel like you need to babysit me.”

  “It’s not you.” I pulled my feet onto the chair with me and hugged my legs. “I’m not ready to leave you, Mommy. I don’t want to go away. I don’t want to be that far from you.”

  For a long moment, she didn’t answer. Her eyes rested on my face, conflicted and thoughtful.

  Finally, she smiled a little. “Okay. We’ll need to figure out how this is going to work, but if you’re sure it’s what you want, we’ll talk to some people over at Birch and see what we can do.”

  “Thank you.” I leaned over and wrapped my arms around her. “Thank you so much.”

  “And speaking of things we need to talk about . . . don’t think I haven’t noticed that Leo’s pretty much moved into your bedroom.”

  I was sure my cheeks were flaming as I sat back. “He was just here to take care of me.” I fiddled with the hem of my tank top. “I wouldn’t have been able to sleep without him here.”

  “I take it the two of you are back together now?”

  “Yes.” I knew I sounded definitive. “I know all the reasons we won’t work, but I also know I can’t give him up again, Mom. We’ll figure it all out.”

  The corner of my mother’s lips tugged up into something resembling a smile. “I’m sure you will.”

  We were both quiet for a few minutes, and then she spoke again, in measured words. “I’m not going to tell you Leo can’t sleep in your room, Quinn. After this week, it sounds like that would be closing the barn door after the horse ran amok. But please, sweetie . . . be careful. And I’m not just talking sex.”

  When I started to interrupt, my mom held up her hand. “No, hear me out. You’re eighteen years old, Quinn. I can’t make your decisions for you. I love Leo, and I’m grateful that he’s been so supportive this week. But he’s heading down to Carolina in about a month, and you’ll be starting a new life, too. It’s going to be tough on both of you.”

  I’d already expected this cautionary chat, so I only
nodded. “I know, Mom. We’re being smart, and we’ll get through college. We can handle the long-distance thing.” I smiled at her. “Leo and I are meant to be together. And nothing’s going to be in the way of that this time.”

  The day we graduated from high school, I’d been sure the summer that lay ahead would be full of two things: getting wasted and hanging with Matt, my best bud. It turned out I was wrong on both counts.

  Thank you, sweet baby Jesus.

  Instead, I didn’t lose a single minute of my last summer of freedom. I didn’t get drunk even once; I stuck to a beer or two if I was hanging out on a warm evening. And I hardly saw Matt at all, because almost all of my waking hours were spent with Quinn.

  Of course, a lot of my non-waking hours were also spent with her. What can I say? Life was damn good.

  It wasn’t all laughs and sunshine, sure. We were all still grieving, missing Bill, and Quinn struggled to figure out what was coming next for her. I argued with her about giving up Evans, because I knew how much she’d wanted to go to college up there, but her rationale for choosing Birch instead made sense. She and her mom had compromised: Quinn would attend Birch, but she was going to live on campus, not at home, even though we all lived about fifteen minutes from the college. Her friend Gia was doing the same thing; she was the youngest in a large family, and Quinn told me that Gia’s mom was going to sell their house as soon as the summer ended and Gia had moved into the dorms.

  Nate was also going to Birch. A year ago, that might’ve made me uneasy, knowing that Nate would’ve done anything to come between Quinn and me, but now, I was grateful that he was going to be there for her when I couldn’t be. I knew the transition wasn’t going to be easy, and having her friends nearby would help.

  For a nanosecond, I’d considered throwing away my full ride to Carolina University, seeing if I could get into Birch, so I could be close to my girl. But she nipped that idea in the bud, nailing me with one of her serious, determined-Quinn looks, the one she thought made her look fierce, but which was really only totally adorable and made me want to kiss her nose.

  “You are going to Carolina, where you are going to kick some serious ass on the football field. And then you’re to win the championship game, and when you’re a senior, you’ll get the Heisman. And you’ll be number one draft pick that year for the NFL. Got it?”

  “Hey, dream a little bigger, babe, why don’t you?” I flicked her on the chin. “No pressure on me or anything, right?”

  “Nope.” She was sitting on the swing at the park, our park, the place where we’d finally admitted to each other how we felt. I stood behind her, giving pushes, and now I gripped both chains and pulled back until her head was level with mine.

  “You know I’m doing it for you, right? For us. So that when we get to that place, that done with college place, I can give you the kind of life you deserve.”

  Something like doubt flickered in her eyes. “I know that football is part of you, as much a part of you as your gray eyes.”

  I shook my head. “My eyes aren’t gray. They’re blue. Light and boring blue.”

  Quinn smiled. “When you’re this close to me, and you’re just about to kiss me senseless, they’re gray. And trust me, I should know. I’m the one looking at them.”

  “Right. Anyway, the point is, I’m not choosing football over you. I want you to understand that.”

  “And I want you to understand two things. First of all, you don’t have to be ashamed of loving the game. I get it. It really is part of the whole Leo package.”

  I wiggled my eyebrows at her. “And what a package it is.”

  She sighed, rolling her eyes, and went on speaking as if I hadn’t. “And second, you don’t have to do anything to give me the life I deserve. All I will ever want is you, whether you’re the most celebrated tight end in the league—”

  “And what a tight end it is, too.”

  “—or if you’re sweeping out the locker room after the game. You’re still the one I want, no matter what you do. So yes, I tease about you winning championships and trophies, but in the end, all that means shit to me. I only want it for you, because I see how talented and amazing you are.”

  I hiked her up a little, firming up my hold on the chains, and took advantage of our position to kiss her senseless, as she put it. Hey, it sounded like a good idea. Her mouth opened to me, as it always did, warm and welcoming, and I teased with just the tip of my tongue. Quinn leaned back against me, the hint of a moan escaping from her throat.

  “If it weren’t broad daylight, I’d suggest we test this swing. See if it could hold us both.” I whispered the words against her lips.

  “I am a swing sex virgin.” She twisted a little and lifted one hand to the back of my neck. “Maybe we should come back when it’s dark and try it out.”

  “It just so happens that I, too, am a swing sex virgin.” I nuzzled her neck, kissing just under her ear lobe. “We’d be on level ground. So to speak.”

  She giggled and kissed my jaw. “Hey, Leo?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Did you know my mom drove into the city today with your mom, for her check-up?”

  A smile began to spread across my face. “I did not know that. I knew my mom had a check-up, but I didn’t realize Carrie was going with her.”

  “She did. And do you further know that means my house is empty for at least the next three hours, since they’re having lunch afterwards?” Her eyes met mine, sparkling.

  “Are you suggesting something wicked, Ms. Russell?”

  “Only if having hot and wild sex with your girlfriend is wicked, Mr. Taylor.” She batted her eyelashes at me, and I wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her tight to me as I let go of the swing.

  “Why the hell are we wasting time here, then?” I palmed her ass, fitting her to me more securely. “We may not be able to have swing sex right now, but I’ll bet you a second orgasm I can make you scream my name before we’re in your bed for five minutes.”

  She grinned. “Let me get this straight. You make me scream your name—which implies a first orgasm—and then I get a second? Or you do?”

  “Who cares? I figure we’re both winners, either way.”

  “Agreed. Race you to my bedroom.”

  I was scheduled to report to Carolina the last day of July. Having a shorter summer made me acutely aware of the passing of each moment, and I didn’t want to waste a single one.

  Not long before Bill’s death, Quinn’s parents had bought the beach house where they’d spent summers almost as long as I’d known them. Quinn had been meant to work down at the shore that summer, but she’d changed those plans after her father died. I’d given up most of my clients at the lawn service my brothers and I had run for years, so I was free to spend a day here or there with Quinn at the beach.

  It was Carrie’s idea that we all spend my last week of summer at the beach house. I had mixed feelings about it; being down the shore would be fun, and in a lot of ways, it would be like old times: my mom and Sheri would be with us all week, and Mark and my dad would come down for the weekend. Days of sun and sand, nights on the boardwalk—I knew it would be good for Quinn.

  On the other hand, there wasn’t going to be much privacy with six to eight of us under one roof, and I was about to leave for a college ten hours away from my girlfriend. I wasn’t going to be able to see her until September at the earliest, since she’d be starting classes right around the time of our first game; I wouldn’t be able to come up and visit her until after the season was over. We’d talked about Quinn making a weekend trip down for a game, but nothing had been firmed up yet.

  All of which to say, I’d been hoping to spend my last week at home making up for the time I was about to lose with her.

  Explaining this to Quinn’s mom—or mine—wasn’t going to fly, I knew. So I swallowed my disappointment and told myself I was just damned lucky to have her back at all. I was also fortunate that her mom had looked the other way so much already t
his summer, giving us most nights together. I didn’t have any reason to complain, but I was greedy for my girl.

  We’d been at the shore for three days when Gia drove down to spend the day. I knew Quinn and Nate had gotten to be close with her during senior year, when I wasn’t part of their lives. Gia still treated me a little stiffly, as though she hadn’t yet made up her mind whether or not to trust me.

  But she’d been fairly relaxed all that day, and it made me happy to see Quinn laughing and joking with her friend. She was getting better, recovering from her dad’s death, but it was a slow and painstaking process. There were still mornings when I awoke to find her sobbing in my arms and times that I saw her staring at nothing, pain in her eyes. I walked a fine line between distracting her when I could and listening to her when she wanted to talk it out. Being a guy, I really just wanted to fix it for her—make the hurt go away, bring back her ready laughter and the way she used to exude joy.

  My mom and I had discussed Quinn one day, sitting at the breakfast table on one of the rare mornings I woke up at home.

  “You can’t make this better, Leo.” Mom shook her head, but there was compassion in her eyes. “You can’t do or say anything that’ll make the pain less, or make it go away faster. This kind of grief—it’s like a physical injury. Quinn has to go through the whole process, and you can’t do it for her.”

  “So what can I do?” I scooped scrambled eggs onto my toast and took a bite. “There’s got to be something, right?” I swallowed the eggs. “What did Dad do for you when Gramps died?” I remembered, vaguely, when my mom’s dad had passed away. I had been eight years old, and all of us boys had been mystified by our normally happy-go-lucky, laid-back mother having crying fits and hiding in her bedroom for hours on end.