by Cara Bastone
She glanced at Lara again and saw a very familiar expression on her face. Just like that, Cat was back in the ice cream aisle, watching her ex-boyfriend suck the lips off her oldest friend. Even when a relationship was officially over, this wasn’t necessarily something you wanted to walk in on.
The drama was just heating up. The color was quickly returning to Lara’s face. Cat did not want to stick around and see just how red those cheeks were going to get.
Cat twisted on her toes and pecked Quentin on the cheek. “I’m gonna go. I’ll let you all, um, figure this out.”
She bolted toward the door, reaching for the door handle. “Um. Sorry,” Cat said as she danced one way and Jared and Sylvie danced the other. Nothing was more awkward than that let’s-get-past-one-another shuffle.
She drew a deep breath as she stepped into the hall. She’d never felt that trash-compactor scene quite so viscerally before.
“Cat,” Quentin said as he joined her in the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him. “Sorry about the...mess.”
She laughed. “It’s totally fine. I just thought that I didn’t need to be there, in everyone’s business. I’m not exactly a key player in that drama.”
“Me either.”
“Well,” Cat ribbed him. “It’s your drama a little bit. Jared did kinda steal your girl. I guess Sylvie had a crush on your cousin too.”
She expected him to laugh but his face just kind of shut down. “They usually do,” Quentin muttered. “Ah, look, Cat, have a good night, okay? See you around.”
He turned and stepped back into his apartment.
Cat watched the door close, her eyebrows pulled down.
“See you around?” she mouthed.
Chapter Six
LUCKILY SYLVIE WAS not interested in any drama because she apologetically skedaddled about three minutes after Cat did. Lara and Jared disappeared into his room while Quentin cleaned up the kitchen and ignored the television that was still paused on Star Wars.
He wanted to go over to the couch and plunk down and press Play and have Cat sitting there beside him again. Wouldn’t it be great to rewind to an hour ago when the two of them had been inching closer and closer on the couch? Wouldn’t it be great if the reason she’d come over tonight had been to watch a movie with him? And not as a way to make a play for his cousin?
The memory of Cat’s face when she’d seen Jared making out with Sylvie flashed in Quentin’s mind. She’d looked... Well, he actually couldn’t name the emotion that had been stamped across her features. But she had not looked happy at all. And she could not have left any faster than she had. Quentin had thought that Cat just had the hots for Jared. But now he was left to wonder if maybe she had real feelings for him.
Quentin gave up scrubbing the sink and strode over to the couch. Sinking into the cushions, he let his head tip back so he could stare at the old water stain on the ceiling. He thought he’d long ago become immune to girls preferring Jared over him.
Apparently it could still hurt.
Suddenly, he felt the way he had as a teenager when he’d gone to live with Jared and Aunt Sarah. Quentin had been the child of a divorce so brutal that after his mom had finally gained full custody of him, she’d dropped him off at her sister’s so she could take a “well-earned vacation.” A month turned into two into six into a year into two years, and then there was Quentin, graduating high school with only Aunt Sarah in the bleachers.
Jared had been good-looking and popular and everyone always wanted a piece of him. Quentin had been the designated driver who hadn’t wanted to screw anything up with Aunt Sarah.
He understood why the girls had flocked to his cousin, but still, it would’ve been really nice if things with Cat had been a different story.
The door to Jared’s room opened and Quentin straightened, surprised to see Lara walking out by herself. She was red around the eyes, but she was otherwise the same walking perfection that she always was.
She balanced one hand on the wall by the door and started wiggling into her Louboutins. “You gonna miss me, Quentin?”
He looked at her in surprise. “You’re...not coming back?”
When they’d disappeared into Jared’s room together, he’d expected to have to sleep with a pillow over his ears to block out the sounds of their reunion.
She dropped her eyes. “Yup.”
He looked at Jared’s closed door and then back at Lara. “You’re not getting back together?”
“Nope. That’s not why I came over tonight.” She sighed and leaned against the wall, checking her manicure. “I actually came over to apologize to him. I haven’t been on my best behavior lately. This has been an absolutely terrible few years for me.” She gave him a wry smile. “Perhaps you’ve noticed.”
He was hesitant to agree, but he couldn’t lie to her. “Uh, there’s been a few indicators.”
She chuckled, but sobered quickly. “I’m not going to try to justify my behavior. But just know there’s been reasons for it. Some of them Jared-related and some of them not.”
He cleared his throat. “Everybody’s got their stuff.”
Her eyes flicked up to Quentin’s. “I came to apologize to Jared, but while I’m at it, I probably owe you one too.”
This was a curveball. Quentin rose up. “For what?”
She laughed and sauntered over to the couch, her heels clicking with each step. “Oh, please. We both know I’ve not exactly been a treat these last few years.”
She collapsed onto the couch, landing in a heap.
Quentin lowered himself to the other side of the couch, his eyes on her, trying to gauge her mood.
She rolled her head to catch his eye. “We used to be friends,” she said, almost accusatorially.
For the second time that night, the image of Lara in high school flashed across Quentin’s memory. It was strange because he hadn’t thought about that time in their lives in years. “Yeah. We had freshman algebra together,” he reminisced.
“You and I were friends before Jared and I had even really gotten to know one another. The first time I came over to your all’s house, it was to hang with you, not Jared.”
“That’s right.” How had he forgotten that?
“We used to hang out, the three of us.”
“Yeah.” Quentin scratched at his stubble.
“But then a few years ago, you just completely stopped wanting to be around us. What was up with that?” She sat up a little bit, smoothing her hair back.
Quentin chose his words carefully. “It was harder once me and Jared lived together. It seemed like you two were fighting a lot and there was nowhere for me to get a break from it.”
“I get that,” she said quietly. “Jared and I were going through a lot of stuff. Both together and separately. And I guess our fights did get a little more...bombastic. But it was more than that. Even when things were good with us, it was like you could barely stand to be around us.”
Quentin wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he just scratched at his stubble again.
“Have you ever wondered why that is?” Lara asked.
He shrugged.
“I have a theory,” she said.
He laughed. “Of course you do. All right, let’s hear it, then.”
“The higher the stakes got for me and Jared, the farther away you got.”
“What do you mean?”
She crossed her legs. “I mean that when Jared and I were just two silly high schoolers, you didn’t have to take our relationship seriously. But when we stayed together, in college and after, you started to get nervous. The more we gave up to be together, the more intense things got, the more you pulled away.”
Was that true? The thought was unwieldy, but it also sort of fit.
“You know you have to risk things to actually be in a relationship, right?” Lara aske
d.
Quentin laughed. “Actually, Jared said something like that to me tonight as well. He said that the smoothest road is the most boring one.”
“He’s right. But I’m not saying you should go completely off-road like Jared and I did either.”
“You literally threw a gyro at his head once.”
She winced. “Low point.”
He raised an eyebrow and she laughed, chagrined.
“Okay, okay,” she grumbled. “One of the low points.”
Lara stood and brushed off her immaculate skirt. “Look, we used to be friends, and when I walk out that door, we’re likely not going to see one another very much anymore, so let me just make a point. You’re awesome and funny and cool and shouldn’t compare yourself to Jared. It’s apples and oranges. In a good way. I’ve wondered for years why you never seriously date anybody. And I’m not pretending to understand your issues here, but if it’s because Jared and I made being with somebody look really bad, well, I just want to say that risking things—even, like, dignity—is worth it to be able to really connect with someone. It really is.”
He frowned at Lara. Maybe he hadn’t been as good at melting into the background as he’d once given himself credit for. She kinda had him pegged.
“Do you get what I’m saying, Quentin?” She pointed toward the front door. “That girl likes you. She does. It’s as clear as day. She flirted with you on the couch. She kissed your cheek when she left. Don’t argue with me.” She turned that pointer finger back toward him. “I know what you’re gonna say. You’re gonna make some argument as to why I’m wrong and you’re right, but guess what? You’re wrong. Listen and listen close. Sometimes all we see in ourselves are our worst failures, all the thoughts we’re not proud of, all the mistakes, all of our worst moments. And that makes us think that anyone who cares about us just doesn’t have the full story yet.”
He blinked at her. “I... Wow.”
“Am I checking any boxes for you?” She took a step toward the door and paused. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in this whole mess—” she nodded in the direction of Jared’s room “—it’s that sometimes you just have to listen to the people who care about you when they tell you you’re great. So, why don’t you give her a chance to tell you that you’re great? And when she does, listen.”
She turned toward the door.
“Lara.” He stood up.
Lara froze, one hand on the doorknob.
“I’m sorry about all this,” Quentin said, and truly meant it.
She sagged at the shoulders and pulled the door open with a sigh. “Oh, me too. But someday I’m sure I’ll look back and think of this whole thing as a learning experience. Or something trite like that.”
He watched as she closed the door without saying goodbye. He stood there and listened to those fancy shoes click down the hallway.
* * *
CAT DECIDED MANNERS were not as important as her immediate need for pie. Instead of waiting for the barista at the pie shop to bring out the freshly washed forks, Cat just stood at the counter by the window and picked up her pie in one hand, taking a bite out of the end like it was a slice of pizza.
The zingy-sweet lemon custard was almost, almost enough to lift her spirits. She’d been down ever since what Cat privately referred to as the Lara Sylvie Trash Compactor Debacle.
Well, to be specific, she’d been down ever since Quentin had given her the brush-off right after the Lara Sylvie Trash Compactor Debacle.
Cat really didn’t understand. She’d thought she and Quentin were getting along so well. Actually, she’d thought there might have even been a spark there.
But it had been four days since he’d told her he’d see her around. So, apparently she’d misidentified the aforementioned spark.
Sigh. More pie.
She was most of the way through her first slice and already contemplating a second.
“So, what’s good here?” asked a deep voice from behind her.
Cat whirled to see Quentin standing there, hands in his pockets, his expression both open and solemn.
“Pie,” she blurted around a mouthful. “Pie is what’s good here.”
“Right.” He did that adorable blushing thing and looked at the ground for a moment. His chest expanded and he looked back up at her. “I didn’t come for the pie, actually. I was hoping to see you here.”
She swallowed and cocked her head to one side. “You came to the pie shop to see me instead of knocking on my door?”
“I wanted to talk to you, but coming to your apartment felt like—I don’t know—an ambush or something.”
“Okay.” Her stomach turned upside down. Was he here to tell her he didn’t want to hang out anymore? Hadn’t the “see you around” been sufficient? She finished off the last of her pie with a flourish, hoping to summon some gusto. “Shoot.”
He cleared his throat. “Take a walk with me?”
“Sure.”
They took a right out of the pie shop, away from the trains, and wound away from the industrial part of the neighborhood. The warehouses gave way to brownstones with crooked sidewalks and cast-iron lampposts in the front yards.
“I’m just gonna say it,” Quentin said as they walked side by side, his shoulder brushing against her hair.
“Okay.” She braced herself.
“I think you’re the funniest...most interesting...prettiest...”
Oh. Cat stopped walking. This was not the direction she’d been expecting this conversation to go. He turned to face her. An older couple walking a weenie dog scooted past them but Quentin and Cat just stared at one another.
“I have a crush on you,” Quentin continued after a moment. “In case that wasn’t clear.”
Those friendly blue eyes of his were a perfect combination of nerves and determination. Cat’s stomach went upside down again, but this time it felt good.
“Look,” he said, flattening his hair down with one hand. “I know you have a thing for my cousin. And that’s historically been sort of a sore spot for me. Because of the way we grew up, I always compared his life to mine. Like I said before, it’s a long story. But I think that’s made me be kind of closed off to you. Which I don’t want to be. Because—you know—the crush.”
His cheeks were pink and his coppery hair was getting messier and messier each time he attempted to flatten it. Cat would’ve given anything for a series of portraits of him, exactly as he looked right at that moment. She’d never have to google puppy videos ever again when she got sad. All she’d have to do was look at those photos of Quentin and feel her heart float away on a hot-air balloon.
“I guess,” he continued, “I just wanted to tell you how I feel. You said that what you’re looking for is a good time.” He spread his hands out to the side. “I’m a good time. Also, I care about you. I don’t know if that disqualifies me from the running. But I guess I just wanted to...see?” He groaned and flattened his hair again. “Man, I am really not good at this.”
She covered her face with her hands just to give herself a second to think. But she found she didn’t even need it. She was laughing as she pulled her hands away. “I don’t,” she told him.
Quentin’s brows came down. “You don’t what?”
“Have a thing for your cousin.”
His eyebrows popped up. “Oh. Really?”
“Yeah. I tried to have a thing for your cousin. But, you know, when I wanted to become a teacher, I went to school, got my degree and certificate and applied to, like, twenty jobs. When I wanted to help my mom take care of my dad, I took the train home every weekend. When I wanted to learn to pole dance, I found a studio and went the next day. When I want pie, I eat pie. But when I tried to hook up with your cousin...” She stepped forward and nudged one of his feet with the toe of her sandal. “I just kept hanging out with you.”
He cracked
into a grin and Cat almost laughed with delight at how much it changed his face. He was absolutely shining. His eyes were crinkled at the corners, his teeth white and just a little crooked. He was perfect.
“I thought you were gonna tell me that you didn’t want to be friends anymore,” she said, nudging his foot again.
His smile faded a little bit. “I might have said that, because I’m generally really good at protecting myself. But I got some good advice lately. It was about risk. And connection. And yeah. Here I am.”
Cat had a hundred questions. A million. She looked up into his handsome face and couldn’t wait to ask every single one of them. She couldn’t wait to know him better.
A raindrop landed on his forehead and they both looked with confusion at the sky.
“When did those clouds roll in?” he asked.
“I think it happened when we were gazing goofily into one another’s eyes.”
That heart-zapping grin of his was back. “Wanna gaze goofily into one another’s eyes indoors somewhere?”
“Yes!”
They speed-walked back to their building but didn’t beat the rain. Her shirt was stuck to her skin and her jean shorts felt like they’d shrunk two sizes. She couldn’t help but notice that his T-shirt clung to what seemed to be some very nicely shaped back muscles.
“Hubba hubba,” she said, tracing his biceps as they stood in their hallway, dripping from the rain.
He laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m melting, is what I am.”
“At the risk of sounding presumptuous,” he said, “your place or mine?”
Cat took him by the hand and unlocked her door, dragging him inside her apartment. Her breath caught at how warm and strong his hand felt.
She kicked the door closed behind her. “Want a towel?”
“Sure—oomph!” He staggered back in surprise when she jumped forward into his arms, her hands linking behind his neck and her legs around his waist. Those warm, strong hands of his found their way to her ass, holding her steady.
“Hi,” he said, blinking at her from four inches away.