by A. S. Tucker
I step up behind Quinn, gently placing my hand on his shoulder. He jumps at the contact, whirling around with his hands up in a defensive position. Well, what should be a defensive position anyway. In Quinn’s drunken state, he looks more like he’s attempting to communicate through sign. And failing.
I can almost see the recognition dawn on his face as he looks at me, his eyes brightening when he realizes who I am.
“Barker! What are you doing up here?”
I look around, confused for a second before I realize he thinks he’s on his floor. “Better question. What are you doing down here? And how much have you had to drink?”
He slings his arm around my shoulders, pulling my body into his side. And, even though he’s inebriated beyond words, he feels good. Smells good, too. If you can get past the smell of what must be hard liquor seeping from his pores.
“I like you, Barker. You make shitty days like today feel so much better.”
My breath catches in my throat, his words causing a warm sensation to run through my entire body. Is he too drunk to realize what he’s saying? Or does he really feel that way? I knew he liked me, at least enough to want to try to kiss me the other day. But does he think of me as much as I think of him?
I’m about to open my mouth to ask him when his body slumps against me, catching me completely off guard. It takes all the strength I possess to hold him upright and not let his giant body slump to the floor. I knew Quinn was ripped. But I had no clue just how big the guy was until I was responsible for keeping him on his feet.
I pull his arm more snugly around my shoulders, throwing my other arm around his waist and trying to shift some of his weight onto my hip. He laughs as I maneuver him but does little in the way of helping.
“Come on, buddy.” I laugh when I finally have him in a position where I think we can walk. “Let’s get you to bed.”
His other hand reaches over and grazes my cheek as I walk, half-dragging, half-swinging Quinn along with me. I manage to get him into the elevator—there’s no way I’m dragging him up those stairs—and hit the button for his floor. He doesn’t stop touching my face, his eyes never leaving mine the entire time we’re locked together.
When the door dings open and I start dragging him into the hall, he speaks, “How come you never come out with me, Barker?”
I give him a sardonic laugh. “You know I can’t do that, Quinn. Besides, I can’t imagine you and Elder Fisher would be interested in going to the same places.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “But you would? Would you be interested in going to the places I like to hang out at?”
His eyes seem to have cleared in the few minutes it’s taken to get him onto his floor. He’s still drunk as a skunk, but there’s a clarity that wasn’t there downstairs, and it makes me think he might remember more of this conversation than I originally thought.
“I don’t know, Quinn. Maybe. But you seem to have plenty of friends. You don’t need me coming and cramping your style.”
He scoffs, his breath flowing past his lips, causing them to flap together in a wet sound. He sounds a little like a cartoon character.
“You’d never cramp my style, Barkey Boy. And you’d always be welcome with my friends. If you ever change your mind, you just let me know. I’ll make sure and show you a good time.”
We’ve finally reached his door, and I watch as he struggles to get the key in the lock. The whole time, I’m pondering his words. I think back to the guys I saw him with the other night. They were all laughing, seemingly having a good time. None of them looked ashamed. None of them appeared sad. They were just a group of friends, out enjoying a night together.
I wonder what that would be like. Not having to hide. Not having to worry about what others might think. Just being with people who understand you. People who accept you for who you are.
I suddenly want nothing more than to go out with Quinn and his friends. But I know it isn’t possible. Elder Fisher would never allow it, and I’d get sent home before I even had a chance to figure out how to explain.
When Quinn finally jiggles open the door, I help him inside, laying him down on the bed in the living room. The one where he tried to kiss me last week. The one he sat on for our last few lessons. The bed on which I wish I could curl up next to him even if only for a moment just to see what it would feel like to have his arms around me.
I untangle his arm from my neck, settling him back into the pillows behind him, his eyes drifting shut the second his head hits their fluffy softness. He doesn’t speak; he doesn’t move. The only indication he’s even conscious is the short, even bursts of air escaping his lips. I run my fingers down the side of his cheek, needing to touch him one more time before I leave. He looks so peaceful, so beautiful. But, even in the dim light of the living room, I can see the tearstains on his cheeks. Something upset him. Something made him want to go out and completely lose himself tonight.
I think back to his earlier comment about today being a bad day, and I want to know why. I want him to tell me everything. I want to be the one he vents to. The one he calls when he’s had a bad day, and he just needs to let off some steam. I want to be the one to cheer him up.
I want…him.
I exhale deeply, knowing there’s no going back now that I’ve thought those words. I’ve been dancing around them since the first time we met. But there’s no denying it now.
Even though I know it’s wrong.
Even if it’s a sin.
Even knowing my father might never be able to look me in the eye again.
I am attracted to Quinn Owens.
And I want him.
I turn and walk toward the door, my hand coming to rest on the knob as I think about my realization. I stand here for a moment, my head bowed, wondering what I’m going to do next. How can I stay here, knowing what I know? But how can I leave? The thought of leaving before really getting to know Quinn is more devastating than going home and facing the disappointment of my family.
A soft touch covers my hand where it rests on the knob, Quinn’s breath coming hot and deep on my neck.
“Thank you, Barker. Thank you for getting me home.”
I slightly turn my face, just enough so I can see him out of the corner of my eye. He uses the movement to run his nose up my cheek, pressing his lips to my temple when he reaches it. My knees buckle at the sensation of their soft fullness, all the air rushing out of my lungs, like I just fell from the monkey bars on the playground.
He turns the knob under both our hands. “Good night, Elder Barker. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I nod, unable to speak. He gives me a gentle push out the door, a crooked smile on his face as he watches me leave. I don’t take my eyes from him until I reach the stairwell. Pulling open the door to the stairs, I turn back and give him one final look.
He winks before closing his door with a gentle snap.
I float back to my apartment, completely high off the man who is Quinn Owens.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
* * *
Jaden
There’s a quiet tapping on my door the next night. I roll over, looking at the clock on the nightstand between my bed and Fisher’s.
Just after two a.m.
Giving Elder Fisher a quick glance to make sure he’s still asleep—pointless maybe, but I do it anyway—I get out of bed and make my way to the door. Placing my ear against it, just like the night before, I wait for any sign that whoever is out there might be here to murder me.
“Barker,” a soft voice says from the other side of the door, as if he can sense my presence.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about this all day. I hoped Quinn might show up at my door tonight. After last night, all I could think about was if he was okay. If today was better for him. And, yeah, the feel of his lips against my skin.
I smile as I press my forehead to the door, hoping this means he’s been thinking about me, too.
I step out into the hall, quickly pulling the d
oor shut behind me. Quinn stands there, looking much better than he did last night but still a little worse for the wear.
He gives me a lopsided smile. “Hey,” he says, his voice gravelly with exhaustion.
“Hey. You just get off work?”
“Yeah,” he says, running his hand through his hair. “Work blows when you’re nursing the hangover from hell.”
I smile. “I can imagine.” When he lifts an eyebrow in question, I laugh. “Okay, maybe I can’t. But I’m sure it wasn’t fun.”
He chuckles softly. “No, no fun at all. You never think about that when the alcohol is going down. Seems like the best idea in the world at the time. But the next day? You hate the person who ever invented distilleries.”
His comment causes a laugh to burst from my lips and makes me wish I knew who invented distilleries, so I could impress him. But, funnily enough, that topic never came up in schools in Utah. Go figure.
“Well, you sure seemed to be enjoying yourself last night. Care to tell me what you were doing out here, in my hall, in the middle of the night?”
A faint pink tinge colors his cheeks, and it somehow makes him even more attractive.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to wake you. I really thought I was up one more floor. And, dude, I told you guys there were rats in this building. I was trying to corner one right over there when you interrupted,” he says, pointing to the corner of the hallway where I found him last night.
“I’m impressed you remember. I thought for sure you wouldn’t remember anything.”
He waves a hand. “Nah, I was drunk. But I wasn’t blackout drunk. Unfortunately for me, it takes more than half a bottle of Jack to get me there. I remember everything.”
The last three words have a certain pointedness to them, causing the pink flush he was sporting moments ago to crawl up my face instead.
My eyes fall to the floor at my feet, shyness overtaking me now that he’s referred to what transpired in his apartment last night.
Quinn takes a step toward me, placing a finger under my chin and lifting my face until my gaze meets his. “I meant what I said last night, Barker. I like you.”
My face heats, the feel of his finger on my chin causing a jolt of electricity to shoot down my spine. “I like you, too.”
The corner of his mouth curls up in the same smile I saw the first day on the street and so many times since then. The smile that makes my knees go weak. The smile that makes me question everything.
“I thought you might,” he simply says.
I want to make some offhand comment about his overconfidence, but I’m unable to make my lips move. Besides, there’s no sense in arguing. Quinn must have been aware of my attraction to him from day one. I just needed time to admit it to myself.
“I also meant it when I said that I wanted you to come out with me sometime.”
This causes the haze that washed over me the moment I stepped out into the hall to evaporate.
“Quinn, you know I can’t do that. Fisher would never go along with it. He’d turn me in.”
Quinn blows out an exasperated breath. “I’m getting real tired of Fishy standing in our way.”
I attempt to shrug, as if it didn’t bother me every bit as much as it does him. “But there’s nothing we can do about it. This is what I signed on for. So, this is what I’ve got to do.”
“Well, you signed on for a bunch of bullshit.”
His harsh tone stings a little, and even though I’ve been questioning everything I was taught, his words still cause my hackles to rise. Until the last few months, I lived and breathed for this. Having him dismiss it so easily hurts. It’s as if, by dismissing my calling, he’s dismissing me right along with it, as stupid as that sounds after all this.
Quinn must see the sadness etched on my face because he immediately recants. “I’m sorry, Barker. I didn’t mean that. I know this is important to you. I know you love your church. I just wish there were another way. I wish there were a way I could get to know you.”
I nod, his sincere tone washing away a bit of the ache his earlier words left behind. “Yeah. It’d be so much easier if it were like back home. If I was interested in someone, all I had to do was pick up the phone and send a text.”
“So, you’re interested in me?” he asks, that familiar smile returning to his face, erasing the last of my lingering disappointment.
I pull my bottom lip in between my teeth before looking up at him. I nod.
His face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Good. That’s good, Barker. Because I’m definitely interested in you.”
“But it’s impossible. There’s no way we can do anything about it. You don’t know me. I don’t know you. We might be attracted to each other, but that’s all there is. That’s all there can ever be.”
Quinn’s face falls. “So, that’s it? You admit you like me and that, under different circumstances, you’d possibly be interested in pursuing this further, but now, you’re not even willing to try?”
My gaze falls back to the floor. “You don’t understand. My family would be so disappointed if I was sent home, dishonored. I can’t risk it. I can’t risk everyone I love for someone I don’t even know.”
I can tell my words cut him deep, but that doesn’t make them any less true. I’m attracted to Quinn. I can’t stop thinking about him. And, yes, if things were different, I’d jump at the chance to attempt a relationship. But you can’t build a relationship on nothing. He doesn’t even know my first name, for heck’s sake.
I say as much to him, trying to explain that I meant no offense to him, but he can’t deny that we don’t know much about each other.
“What’s your first name?” he asks when I’m done.
After all that, that’s all he can say?
“Jaden,” I say, my voice barely more than a whisper.
“Jaden.” His tone echoes mine, his fingers reaching out and brushing against mine. “Jaden. It’s perfect. The perfect name for the perfect man.”
I laugh. “Once again, you don’t even know me. So, how can you say that?”
He gives me a lazy smile. “You’re right. We don’t know each other well enough. But I think I have an idea on how to change that. And you don’t even have to worry about Fisher or your family.”
His words surprise me, my brows shooting up to my hairline.
“And how exactly do you propose we do that?”
“Just like you said earlier. By picking up the phone and sending a text.”
Apparently, he’s lost his mind.
“Quinn, you’re forgetting one very important detail. I don’t have a phone. I’m not even allowed to call home, for crying out loud.”
He shrugs. “They have prepaid phones for sale pretty much everywhere. If you can sneak away from your babysitter for ten minutes, you can buy one, and then we can text. That way, you don’t have to worry about Fisher finding you out in the hallway with me. And we won’t have to try to sneak glances and touches when he’s not looking. Yeah, I know you meant to do that the other day, brushing your foot up against my leg. Don’t you want to get past that? Don’t you want to know if what you’re feeling is real?”
I shake my head. “You’re crazy. I’d never get away with it. Fisher would see me with it, and then it’d be just as bad as if he did actually catch me out here in the hallway.”
“If you didn’t want him to see it, I have no doubt you’d be able to keep it from him. Keep it in your sock during the day. It’s not like he pats you down every morning, is it?” Quinn pauses, shooting me a questioning look, as if it just occurred to him that Fisher very well could do that very thing.
“No, he doesn’t frisk me every day,” I say with a laugh.
“Good. Otherwise, I’d have to junk-punch him. So, you get the phone. Text me the number. Carry it in your sock during the day and keep it under your pillow at night. When Fishy is asleep, you can pull it out and text me. We can talk freely. We can get to know each other.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
* * *
Quinn
“Those assholes wouldn’t know good acting if it smacked them right in the face.”
I snort, some of the tea I was sipping shooting out of my nose and all down the front of me. It burns like a motherfucker, but I can’t be mad. Judy K just managed to take the last two days of disappointment and heartbreak and vanquish them with one sentence.
“Assholes, huh? Gosh, Judy K. What would the Actors Guild think of their beloved golden girl using such language?”
“Actors Guild, my old, wrinkly ass. You think I give a shit what those old farts say about me? I didn’t care then, and I sure as shit don’t care now.”
I double over, my breath coming in gasps as I laugh. “Judy, I’ve never seen this side of you before. I have to say, I like it.”
She waves me off. “When you’ve seen all the things I’ve seen, you earn the right to say a few curse words every now and again. And, when I hear you’ve been passed over for yet another little rich kid who’s no doubt riding on their daddy or mommy’s coattails, it makes the redhead in me come out to play.”
Well, now that I know this spitfire exists, you can be sure I’m going to try my damnedest to make sure she gets as much action as possible. Judy K is amazing all the time. But Judy K pissed off and on the defensive? Nothing sort of sheer epicness.
She spends the next ten minutes telling me how great I was when rehearsing with her and how those fools don’t know what they missed out on. I’ve got to say, it feels good. I’ve always thought I had at least a little talent, regardless of how down in the dumps I’ve been the past few days. But hearing a legend like Judy K tell me I remind her of a young James Dean? It gives a nice boost to the old ego.
By the time my tea and cookies are finished—living across the hall from an old lady definitely has its perks, especially considering how Judy K can bake—all the doubt and fear I was feeling since getting that rejection call three days ago is gone. I can’t give up now. Not when I’ve worked this hard. And when I’m so close. That was the first audition I felt really good about. Having more confidence in myself is sure to shine through in my next one. It’s only a matter of time before someone sees my potential and gives me a job. And then all these sad and unfulfilling days will be a thing of the past. A distant memory I’ll look back on and smile.