by Shae Scott
I shook myself from my fog and laughed sinking onto the blanket beside her. "Lush," I teased.
"Like this isn’t all part of your master plan. You’re so smooth Mr. Harris, what with the wine and the view," she smiled up at me. Maybe it was the genuine way it lit her face or the lack of expectation in her eyes that had me feeling off kilter. Or maybe it was just that when she looked at me it felt like she was seeing everything. I couldn't hide with her and I realized that I didn't want to.
I tore my gaze from hers and started pulling out the food. I was so far from smooth right now it was embarrassing. Something had changed over the course of the day. She was holding all of the cards. I guess maybe she had been all along, but now I knew it.
Quinn grabbed up the loaf of crusty bread and tore off a piece. She watched me, amused and curious. "Are you okay?" she asked. I watched as she nibbled on the bread and for a moment I forgot to breathe. Literally. I started to choke as my body reminded me to take in air. I bent over coughing, trying to pull it together.
"Keaton?" I felt her hand on my back, rubbing comforting circles. Smooth. Definitely smooth.
"Sorry," I managed. She looked concerned, trying to figure out if I needed some kind of help.
"Are you sure? Let me get you some water," she said moving towards the basket.
"No. I'm fine really. Sit back down. This is my show, remember?" I said.
She took her place back on the blanket reluctantly. "Your show, huh?" she teased, her body relaxing a little as I went back to my task.
"Do you want a cup? I mean a drink? Can I get you a drink? Would you like some wine?" I asked. For God’s sake, what was wrong with me?
I saw the smile play at her lips. It was almost as if she was trying to keep from laughing. At me. I was killing it.
"Wine would be nice. Thank you."
I took the bottle and tipped it towards her glass. The cool crisp liquid sloshed around ungracefully, nearly escaping the top of the glass. "Shit. Sorry." I said. I wiped the glass and handed it over.
There was the smile again. She thought I was an idiot. It was written all over her face. She thought I was a jackass. I was a jackass.
"You're laughing at me."
She shrugged, folding her legs beneath her. I followed her lead and settled beside her.
"I'm usually a lot smoother than this," I laughed nervously. Why the fuck was I so nervous around her? I'd been fine with her before. Now all of a sudden I was fumbling all over the place.
"Hmmm," she said thoughtfully, sipping her wine.
"What, hmmm?" I dared to ask.
"I like you better this way," she admitted.
"You do?" I asked confused.
"Yes. This version of you seems more real. I like this version of you," she said.
"But you don't like the other version of me?" I asked.
She shrugged again. "I don't know that I cared enough about him to have taken the time to found out if I did," she said. Well how about that for brutal honesty. It took me aback for a moment and I couldn't find words.
"You know, both versions are real. I just don't let everyone see this side of me. I think you are making me nervous," I said softly.
"I make you nervous?" she asked a small frown on her face. It made the skin between her eyebrows bunch up. It was adorable.
I shrugged.
"That's interesting," she said thoughtfully.
"Interesting how?" I urged. I thought I wanted the answer to that question, but now that it was hanging in the air between us I wasn't so sure.
"I just wouldn't have pegged you as someone who gets nervous," she said.
I released a breath, "It doesn't happen often."
I leaned back on my elbows as we looked out over the hills of grapevines. It was beautiful here. Peaceful and perfect. We sat in silence, both enjoying the stillness of the space.
“Thank you for bringing me here, Keaton,” she said, finally breaking the quiet. Her voice was soft, far away as if she were still lost in thoughts and dreams. The sound made me smile.
“It’s been a really good day,” I said in return. It didn’t do it justice, but to me it was the kind of day I had to file away and examine later. Its details had been so perfect, so vivid, so unexpected that to simply assign them to memory without first cataloguing each and every moment would be dismissing them as ordinary. Looking at Quinn now, as she looked out across the hills I knew there was no ordinary in this day. There was nothing ordinary about her.
I HAD TAKEN a chance coming here today, spending it with a stranger; a stranger who until recently I hadn’t even decided if I liked very much. It gave me hope for taking chances. This one had turned out pretty well. More than that, it had been an incredible day and the company had been surprisingly perfect.
"Would you like some more wine?" Keaton asked taking the glass from my hand. I watched as he moved to the basket and retrieved the bottle we’d been nursing and poured some into each of our glasses. I couldn't help but study the way his back flexed under the movement, or the way his arms moved under his shirt. The man was sexy as hell, but he carried on with his task completely oblivious to it. He knew he was sexy, don't get me wrong, but today he wasn't showing off at all and I liked it.
Each time I got a glimpse of this Keaton I found myself a little more vulnerable to his charm. It was disarming and innocent. It was harder for me to connect him to the cocky, arrogant bastard that I'd always assumed him to be. Maybe I'd judged him unfairly or assumed too many things about him. Either way, when he was like this, laid back and stripped bare of bravado I couldn't help but like him. I was pulled in and intrigued and hungry to learn more about him.
For that reason, I chose to ignore the man we left back in the city. Maybe if I simply focused on this version of him, I wouldn't feel the need to slap him or douse him in disinfectant.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, studying me, his eyes squinting under the sinking sun. His t-shirt was wrinkled and his hair fell unstyled in his face. This glimpse of him imperfect made him exceptionally appealing.
"How am I looking at you?" I asked.
He focused his gaze on me for a moment longer. "Like you are dissecting me," he said finally.
"Maybe I am," I agreed.
"And what are you finding out with such intense examination? Or do I want to know?" he smiled.
His smile made my stomach flip.
"Maybe I'll just keep it to myself for now," I smiled.
I watched as his teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he returned the inspection. I held my breath as his eyes drifted over me and then pulled in a ragged one as he moved towards me slowly. He stopped just in front of me, leaning close to my ear and keeping his voice low as he said, "Secrets don't make friends."
I smiled, unable to stop myself.
"I already have friends," I said. I wanted to mask the fact that my heart was beating fast with his proximity.
He pulled back and his smile left me feeling stunned. The way it always did if I wasn't careful to guard against it.
"I’m sure you do. But do you have the right kind of friends? These are the questions that you need to ask yourself,” he suggested.
"Go on," I encouraged.
"Well, you probably don't need anymore casual acquaintance friends. I mean, that's just more Christmas card postage." I laughed at his logic. "And you probably already have a lot of book club friends. You're probably good on those," he offered.
"Maybe," I said. He was still really close to me, his face close enough that I found myself focused completely on the way his lips moved when he spoke.
"Maybe you could use a special friend," he suggested.
"A special friend? That sounds creepy," I said with a nervous laugh. I tried to tease, but the fact was I could feel the heat from his body and it left me no room for jokes. I knew where he was going with this line of discussion, but I couldn't bring myself to stop it.
He laughed, “Let me rephrase, one like me.” Maybe I was
imagining it, but if sounded like his voice had dropped an octave. It was deep and dark--bold. More like the Keaton we’d left back in San Francisco. This time I didn't find it annoying or arrogant.
"I'm going to need details. If I'm going to decide," I said softly.
"Well, a friendship of a special variety allows for certain privileges."
I swallowed hard, "Such as?"
He smiled. He knew he had me. "Well, for instance, if I were such a friend, I might brush my lips against your skin here for instance," he said, his voice soft as the breath against my flesh as he brushed his lips just below my ear. "Or I might kiss your neck and watch your entire body hum with heat," he said, showing me exactly what he meant.
"Okay," I said trying to catch my breath - but it belonged to him now.
"Okay?" he asked. I couldn't answer him. His fingertips were tracing my jaw and across my lips as his gaze flicked from my eyes to my mouth.
"Keaton?" I managed. His tongue moved slowly across his lips and I knew that in a moment they would descend onto my own.
"Yes, Quinn?" he asked softly.
Closer.
I could feel the weight of his body slowly lowering over mine.
"I, um," I started. I didn't have words. He'd stolen those as well.
So I let him kiss me and then it didn't matter anymore.
I'd been kissed before. Lots of times. I wasn't a naive wallflower. But the moment he kissed me, I realized that every kiss I'd had up until this moment had been a dull, lifeless imitation of the real thing.
AFTER SPENDING THE day with Keaton I decided to let go of the logical. At least for the remainder of my trip. It was hard not to get caught up in it all; wandering the hillsides of wine country, getting to know who he was beneath all that bravado and then that kiss. The man knew how to kiss. I had never once actually felt my knees go weak or had my foot actually do that thing where it lifts in the air before, but he made the ordinary feel like a fairytale and I liked it.
I wasn't having any delusions about it really going anywhere and surprisingly, I was okay with that. For once in my life I was embracing living spontaneously. It felt good, it felt freeing. It felt like I was someone else, someone not afraid to jump first, who wasn't so busy asking questions or making plans that she missed out on the good surprises that life had to offer.
Keaton did that for me. Our day together had been easy and effortless. It had been unexpected. I liked him. I liked the shy smile he got when he nearly spilled the wine, I liked the line of questions that he’d rattled off, like he was researching me, like every detail was important. I liked the way he'd opened up and told me about himself, giving me a glimpse of someone that I wasn't sure many people got to see.
Thinking back on how I'd shut him out at the beginning was a little sad now, because I'd nearly missed out on days like today.
I couldn't help the smile on my face. I couldn't help the giddy laugh that escaped my lips as I moved about my room getting ready for bed.
I wished Lily was here. I wanted to tell her all about it. Then again, keeping it to myself almost made it more special. Like a gift that was meant only for me.
I had no idea what would happen tomorrow when I saw him, but I didn't really want to think about it too much. Thinking is where I got myself into trouble. There was no room for reason right now. No room for the logical or the careful.
I pulled on my boxer shorts and my tank top and pulled my hair back into a ponytail. I was too wired to actually sleep, so I pulled out one of the books I'd picked up in the gift room. I had made it through the first two pages before I realized that my mind was too busy playing out memories of the day to actually absorb any of the words on the page. Maybe that's what happens when you live inside a fairytale, the fiction ones lose some of their splendor.
A soft knock landed on the door and I glanced over at the clock. It was almost one in the morning. It was just like Lily to forget her key. I padded to the door and glanced out the peephole, just to make sure there were no serial killers waiting to be let in.
My breath caught when I saw the dark figure standing on the other side. I opened the door without thinking about the fact that I had already changed into my pjs and washed the make up off of my face.
"Hi, what are you doing here?" I asked curiously as Keaton leaned against the doorjamb.
"Fuck, Quinn, are you trying to kill me? What are you wearing? You can't open the door wearing that," he said. He walked into the room, grabbing my hand to make me follow as he kicked the door shut.
"Seriously?" I laughed.
"How short are those shorts?" he asked. I smiled, because he no longer looked so much protector as he did hungry.
"I was getting ready for bed," I said, crossing my arms over my chest, suddenly remembering I no longer wore my bra. I felt the blush warm my cheeks as I shifted from foot to foot.
"I'll say, shit," he teased.
"So what are you doing here?" I asked again, hoping we could stop talking about my lack of clothing.
"I wanted to see you," he said simply. I cocked my head at him, waiting for him to continue. When he just smiled at me I couldn't help but laugh.
"You just saw me. All day," I pointed out.
"I know. But we didn't talk about if I would see you tomorrow and I think of all the things that we talked about that one is pretty important."
"Do you want to see me tomorrow?" I asked. I knew what I wanted.
"I do," he smiled, half shy boy, half cocky playboy. It was a deadly combination.
"Okay," I agreed.
"How about breakfast?" he asked.
"Okay," I said again.
"I like you this agreeable," he smirked.
"What time?" I asked. He glanced over my shoulder at the clock on the nightstand next to the bed.
"1:30?" he asked.
I shook my head, a sigh on my lips. He gave me butterflies. He made me want to follow him to an all night diner right now. I realized that I would go just about anywhere with him. "You're cute," I admitted.
"Okay, fine, how about 8:30? I'm sure you have stuff planned for the day," he said. I nodded. Lily and I had our day mapped out. As much as I liked being around Keaton, I had to remember that I was here with my best friend. I wanted to make the most of my ticket to this convention.
"I can do 8:30," I agreed feeling giddy at the thought of seeing him tomorrow.
"I'll swing by and pick you up."
"What a gentleman," I teased. He raised a questioning eyebrow as if to dispute the claim.
"Just so you know, I'm having very ungentlemanly thoughts about you right now," he admitted. I felt the blush return at his words.
I pretended to huff, but secretly loved his admission.
He took a step towards me, until I had to look up to see his face. He was so handsome. Sometimes it had the power to leave me in a stunned stupor as I took him in. I held my breath as his hand moved to brush my cheek and released a stuttered sigh as his thumb brushed against my bottom lip.
"I had an amazing time today," he said softly, his voice mixed with gravel.
"You said that before," I managed.
"I wanted to say it again," he shrugged.
"Okay." My one word answer made him smile.
His hand moved to the back of my neck and he tugged me closer. I stood on my tip toes to accommodate his request. I wet my lips in preparation for the kiss he was promising me with his gaze. My whole body hummed with the anticipation. He moved in, so close that his lips were a breath from mine.
"I wish I could stay here and do to you all of the things that are going through my head right now," he said softly. His words had my insides throbbing, twisting with what exactly that might entail. "But I'm afraid your roommate will be here soon and I'd hate for her to find us in such unguarded moments," he breathed. At this point I wasn't so sure I cared if she showed up or not. The thought must have flashed across my eyes because I felt his smile.
"Sweet dreams, Quinn," he offered just as h
e finally closed the last breath of space between us and kissed me. He started slow and sweet, gently exploring my lips with his own. They were soft and firm and he held all control as his hand still rested at the back of my neck.
I felt myself melt into him, surrendering easily. He deepened the kiss expertly, his tongue moving across my own, his teeth nipping at my lower lip. Weak. He made me so weak.
I was breathless as he pulled away and if he hadn't been supporting me I might have fallen forward. "Goodnight, I'll see you for breakfast," he smiled. He kissed my forehead and then turned to go. I watched him as he moved back to the door.
"Goodnight," I finally got out just as he turned and gave me one final smirk.
Shit. That man was trouble. Who knew I was such a fan of trouble?
Lily was dragging the next morning. I didn't even hear her come in and I'd lay awake forever before finally succumbing to sleep. I wanted to tell her about my day with Keaton, but she was not having it. If she made it downstairs at all before noon I would be surprised.
So I got up, showered and got dressed. I stared at the clothes I'd brought for ten solid minutes, contemplating making Lily get up to help me pick something out. Nothing I'd brought seemed to be good enough. Finally, after changing three times I made myself stick with the jeans and green sweater that I had on. I chastised myself a little for caring so much. I didn't want to care that much, yet here I was, caring.
At 8:15 I was ready to go and standing in the middle of our room fidgeting. I didn't even recognize myself. Then I reminded myself that it was okay, because I was someone else this week.
"You are already ready to go?" Lily's hoarse voice startled me.
"Are you even alive?" I laughed going back to sit on the edge of the giant bed we were sharing thanks to an overbooked hotel. She peered out from under the covers with one half-opened eye.
"I think I had a little too much fun last night," she admitted. I laughed.
"I didn't even hear you come in," I said.