The Keeping Score Box Set

by Tawdra Kandle

  “Your dad was always the first to come play with us if we were tossing the football around. Or the first one to volunteer to drive us to the park, when we were really little.” I swallowed. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but he said he was going to come see me play at Carolina.”

  She lifted her face to look up at me. “I know. I overheard him talking to my mom about it. He said he wasn’t going to mention it to me, but he just couldn’t imagine not going down to see one of your games.” Her fingers twisted into the collar of my T-shirt, damp with her tears. “He loved you, Leo.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded and buried my face in her hair, breathing deep to inhale her intoxicating scent as much as to stave off my own crying.

  “Leo.” Her breath swept across the skin of my neck. “I don’t know how I’m going to live without my dad. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “Mia.” I tipped her chin up so that I could stare down into her eyes. “You don’t have to do it alone. And we’ll take it all one step at a time. I’ll be with you all the way.”

  She blinked once, so slowly that I thought she might be falling asleep. And then she leaned closer again, whispering so softly that I had to focus to hear her.

  “Make me forget. For just a little bit. Help me to feel better.”

  Before I could figure out what she meant, Quinn kissed me, open-mouthed and hard. There was nothing uncertain about her; on her lips I felt desire and desperation. Her hands tightened on the back of my neck.

  I knew that a stand-up guy, someone here to comfort his friend, would not take advantage of the fact that said friend was currently thrusting her tongue into his mouth, with her boobs, boobs that he’d been dying to touch again for over a year, teasing against his chest. He would not be getting hard and horny as hell, and he’d just hold her, so that nothing happened that she might regret.

  I was not that guy.

  With a sound that was combination groan and growl, I raked my fingers through her hair, holding her head in place. As hard as she’d been pressing her mouth to mine, I kissed her even deeper, angling her body closer against me.

  “God, I’ve missed your hands.” She covered my fingers, still deep in her hair, with her own hands. “Missed them on me. Missed you touching me.” Shifting, she wriggled one leg between us and swung it around until she straddled me. “Missed feeling you against me.”

  My aching cock was lined up perfectly with the heat between her legs. When she shifted to take advantage of the angle, I wanted to cry again, but this time with want. With her gaze glued to my face, Quinn began moving up and down, grinding herself against me with agonizing slowness. Madness bubbled up within me, and fumbling with the hem of her T-shirt, I shoved my hands underneath. Finesse and care be damned—I just had to touch her.

  Rational thought fled completely when I realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. The weight of her tits in my palms turned me ravenous. With my hand still under her shirt, I snaked it around to spread my fingers over her back, holding her steady as I pushed the cotton material out of my way and bared those gorgeous breasts to me.

  Quinn’s breath quickened, and she arched her back, presenting the rosy-tipped peaks to me. They were practically begging for my attention, and I wasn’t going to deny them—or myself. I closed my lips over one, sucking it into my mouth hard until Quinn moaned.

  “Too hard?” I skimmed my lips down the slope of her boob.

  “No. Never too hard.” She guided my head to the other nipple, cupping my cheek in her hand. “Just having your mouth on me again is—oh, my God.”

  Her last words were a gasp as I caught the other stiff tip between my teeth, letting my tongue tease it. I wanted to spend hours just worshipping her tits. I could’ve done it, if I weren’t afraid the real world might intrude eventually.

  But Quinn had other ideas, anyway. She slipped one hand between us, stroking my dick over the fly of my shorts. I was painfully hard, so aroused that I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t come right there and embarrass myself.

  “Mia. Baby.” I sat up a little, brushing her hair away from her eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this? I mean . . . I want you. But if you—you know, I can wait.”

  She shook her head. “Maybe you can. And good for you. But I can’t.” Rising up on her knees, she peeled off the yoga pants, fumbling a little to balance as she kicked them away. My mouth went dry and my heart nearly stopped when I realized she wasn’t wearing any underwear beneath them.

  Grasping one of my hands, she brought it between her legs, pressing my fingers into her folds. “Can you feel how wet I am? How much I want you? I’ve been dying by degrees for months, Leo. The rest of the world is falling apart around me. Let me have this. Let me have you.”

  There was no fucking way in any world that I could have denied her. I kept my fingers on her slick core, watching her face in almost-drugged need as I plunged two fingers inside her.

  Quinn whimpered a little. Her eyes drooped to half-closed, and her mouth fell open. I could tell that every ounce of her focus was on the spot where my hand worked her. I fell backwards onto the mattress so that I could watch her come apart.

  With one fluid movement, she pulled her T-shirt over her head. I lay there for a minute, just taking her in: her arms and shoulders were tanned and toned, her stomach the same golden color and taut. Two pale triangles surrounded her breasts, where her bathing suit had covered them. I’d never seen anything so beautiful, so breath-taking, in all my life.

  She was panting now in time with the motion of my fingers, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I let her ride my hand for a few minutes before I pressed my thumb against her clit.

  With a sharp cry, she froze, bending her back and throwing back her head, coming against my relentless fingers, her tight channel squeezing them. I stayed with her until she began to squirm away, falling next to me on the bed.

  “Leo.” Her voice was muffled against my chest. I drew her close to me, and she wrapped both arms around my waist, nuzzling her face into my neck.

  “I got you, baby. I got you. I’m never going to let go.”

  Her breath warmed me, even as one hand slid under my shirt. “I think you have too many clothes on. I’m lying here buck-ass naked, and you’re still completely dressed.”

  I rubbed small circles on her back. “It’s okay, Mia. I don’t have to—it’s enough to be here for you. Why don’t you try to sleep now?” I thought of our parents sitting downstairs, and the fact that sooner or later, Nate was going to come back.

  “I can’t. Not yet.” Her fingers traced my nipples, and even though I would’ve sworn it was impossible, my cock got even harder. Damn.

  “You could try.” Being noble wasn’t easy, but for Quinn—I’d be fucking Sir Galahad. Or wait—was I thinking of Lancelot? I couldn’t remember. All the blood in my body was heading away from my brain.

  “Or . . .” She walked her fingers down my stomach to the button at the waistband of my shorts. “I could do . . . this.”

  She popped the button and then slowly, slowly tugged down the zipper. I could almost feel her fingers on me. Almost, but not quite.

  “You’re killing me.” I ground out the words between clenched teeth.

  “Am I?” Quinn flattened her hand against the muscle at the top of my thigh. “I don’t want that. Maybe I should do . . . this then.”

  She twisted her wrist and suddenly her fingers closed around my cock, over my boxers. I sucked in a breath and screwed my eyes shut, thinking of anything I could to distract myself from the pleasure. Cold toilet seats. Snails. Aunt Snook’s gelatin molds.

  “Okay.” I spoke out and opened my eyes to Quinn watching me, her head cocked. “Sorry. I had to dial it back before I spewed all over you.” I touched her cheek. “Proceed. I’m good now.”

  “Glad to hear it.” She moved faster than I expected, given how relaxed she’d seemed. Before I could say anything, her mouth was on me, only the thin cotton of my boxers between her sweet and wicked lips a
nd my dick.

  “Aw, fuck, babe. Ohhhh . . .” I watched as her head bobbed up and down, thoroughly wetting the cloth that covered me. Shooting me a quick and speculative glance, she paused, stretched the elastic around my jutting cock and shimmied the underwear down my legs.

  “That’s better, isn’t it?” This time, the wet heat of her mouth encircled my erection with no barriers between us.

  “Well, it sure as hell isn’t worse.” I loved the feeling of her sucking on me, but I also knew I wouldn’t be able to hang in there very long. Not today.

  Quinn rose up over me, as though she’d heard my thoughts. “I need you inside me. Having you in my mouth is incredible, but—I need you.”

  Straddling me again, she took me in one hand, rubbing the head of my dick against her swollen sex. I wanted nothing more than to pull her down onto me, impaling her on my cock, but I hesitated for a minute.

  “Quinn, I don’t have a condom with me. Do you?”

  With wide eyes, she shook her head. “No. I never—we never kept them in here, in case my mom went looking for something in my room.” The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “You don’t have one in your pants? In your wallet?”

  I tried to push myself up a little bit. “No. I haven’t carried one with me since we—since you and me.” I stroked the side of her cheek. “I haven’t been with anyone else, Mia. I couldn’t. It never felt right after us. I only ever wanted you.”

  She stared into my eyes. “Really?”

  “Really truly.”

  I watched her chest rise and fall, and I sensed she was struggling to make sense of everything. I wondered if she trusted me.

  “I haven’t, either. But I’m still on the pill.” She bent, touching her lips to mine. “I don’t want to wait another minute, Leo. I need you, right now.”

  With those words, she lifted up again and sank down on me, slowly easing me into her until we were as close as possible. I canted my hips, trying to hit the right spot inside her, remembering with perfect clarity what she liked. I palmed her tits, pinching both nipples between my fingers and thumbs.

  I didn’t have any idea what I’d done to deserve this—to earn the chance to be back inside the girl I’d loved and wanted for so long. I was fairly sure I didn’t deserve it. But I was here again, and damned if I wasn’t going to hold on tight.

  “Oh.” Quinn breathed out and moved her hips in a circle. She’d found what she’d been looking for, the perfect position and motion. Her eyes fell closed again, her lips pressed together, and her forehead wrinkled a little as she concentrated on the pleasure.

  When she moaned again, I dropped one hand to the place where we were connected, and the next time she lifted up, I pressed my fingers against her clit.

  The force of her sudden orgasm stole the last shred of my control, and I growled out her name as I thrust upward, holding Quinn’s hips until the most intense, mind-blowing pleasure flooded into me, stiffening my body into one convulsing muscle.

  It took me more than a few minutes to come back to myself. The world and the sky had exploded around us, and my vision had gone black. I blinked, trying to catch my breath.

  Quinn slid into my arms, and as I gradually recovered, I realized that her body was shaking again.

  “God, Leo. Oh, my God. My father . . .” She wept into my shoulder, her tears soaking my skin as she let go and cried with abandon. “He’s gone. He’s never coming back. It . . . hurts. So fucking much. Oh, my God.”

  I couldn’t do anything but stroke her hair and murmur quiet, meaningless words into her ear. I couldn’t undo this one; I couldn’t make it better. This heartbreak was real, the grief was intense, and the loss was forever. All I could do was hold her and promise over and over that I was never going to leave her. Not again.

  Slowly, the sobs shaking her body lessened. Her tears subsided, and her breath slowed. And eventually, finally, she slept in my arms.

  When I was certain that she was deeply asleep, I risked shifting a little to pull a blanket from the end of her bed up over us. I had a hunch that one parent or another would sneak up to check on things pretty soon, and none of us was ready to deal with Quinn and me, naked together in her bed. Not yet.

  I eased my phone from my back pocket and typed a text to my mother with one thumb.

  She’s asleep. Don’t let anyone come up here. We’re okay.

  I knew my mom might have a million questions for me afterward, but I also knew that for now, she’d respect my request. And with that assurance, with Quinn’s comforting warmth on top of me, I let my eyes drift shut and slipped into a deep and healing sleep.

  My stomach growled, and that was what woke me up. I couldn’t remember when I’d last eaten. We’d been just about to sit down to dinner the night before, when my mom had gotten the frantic telephone call from Lisa Taylor. I’d been in the kitchen already, pouring a glass of lemonade, and I’d glanced over at my mother’s face when I heard her voice.

  “Oh, my God. No. No. Lisa—what—oh, my God. Okay. Yes, I’ll head over now. Yeah. No, I know. I just can’t—yes. I’ll see you there.”

  My dad had just come inside with a plate of burgers he’d been grilling outside. He was whistling, I remembered now. We’d had a relaxed Saturday after the excitement of graduation and the party over at Quinn’s house. That was my parents’ usual MO: they worried that too much fuss or out-of-the-ordinary activity would wear me out, make me more susceptible to getting sick. So a busy day was always followed by one at home.

  My mother had turned around, and my father saw her face. He’d stopped whistling, slid the plate onto the counter and gripped my mom’s arms.

  “What is it?”

  Her eyes had flickered to me. “It’s Bill. That was Lisa, and she said the police called her from Carrie’s house. Bill was—he was in an accident, and oh my God, Mark. He was killed. Bill’s dead.”

  I’d heard what she said, and I was dizzy. Bill? Quinn’s dad? He couldn’t be dead. I’d just seen him yesterday. I’d sat with him for a while at the party, and he’d talked to me about some of the new medications the doctors had me taking. As a pharmacist, he was always interested in my treatment. But then, typical of Bill, he’d also asked me what I wanted to do in college. I’d told him that I had thought about majoring in history and philosophy, with the possibility of teaching after graduation.

  “You’d be a great teacher, Nate.” He’d smiled. “You have more insight and maturity than guys twice your age. I can definitely see you doing that.”

  “We’ve got to go over to the house.” My mother was speaking again, staring at the phone in her hand as though it had some answers she couldn’t quite comprehend. “Lisa and Joe are driving Carrie to the hospital. She has to . . . identify him. And she doesn’t want Quinn there, of course. I said we’d go wait with her. God. Oh, my God, Mark, what’re we going to do?”

  My father was shaken. He looked blankly at my mother. “I guess—I’ll just cover up the burgers and put them away. Right? Or should I take them with us? Maybe Quinn will want something . . .”

  “God, Mark. No. She isn’t going to want to eat. Just put the fucking hamburgers down and come on. We need to get there now. Lisa doesn’t want to leave her alone. She said Quinn’s in shock.”

  It was the first time I’d ever heard my mother drop the F-bomb, but she didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, she didn’t care. I followed both of my parents into the garage, and in silence, we all got into the car. My dad drove the familiar route slowly.

  “For God’s sake, we need to get there today,” my mom snapped.

  “Yeah, but we want to get there in one piece. Not going to do anyone any good if we end up speeding and get into an accident, too.” My dad’s voice was tense, and whether it was his tone or what he said, my mother began to cry, loud, heaving sobs.

  My dad gripped the wheel tighter and swore under his breath. And I just sat there, still moving on automatic pilot, wondering what the hell I was going to say to Quinn w
hen I saw her.

  Carrie, Lisa and Joe were just coming out the front door as we pulled up into the driveway. My mom sprang from the car and met them, wrapping Carrie into a tight hug while Dad and I straggled behind her.

  After a few moments, Joe steered Carrie toward his car, which was parked in front of the house. Lisa paused to speak to us.

  “Quinn’s in the kitchen. She hasn’t said a word since we got here. They’re both—God, they’re both in shock. The police were still here when we arrived.” She closed her eyes and swallowed. “Just see if maybe you can get Quinn to—I don’t know. Talk. Or eat. I don’t know.”

  My mother nodded. “We’ll take care of her. Are you sure you’re okay to go to the hospital with Carrie?”

  “Yes. Joe and I will take care of that, and then we’ll bring her back, and we can figure out what happens next.” Lisa shook her head. “Of all of us . . . you know, I never thought we’d be helping them plan Bill’s funeral. Mine, maybe. But Bill . . .” She glanced over her shoulder. “I need to go so we can get this over with. I’ll text when we’re on our way back.”

  We stood there, the three of us, watching Lisa trudge across the grass to the car where Joe and Carrie waited. For the first time in my memory, I was dreading going into Quinn’s house. I didn’t know what to expect; Quinn had always been the strong one of us, the one who made everything better. Sure, over the last year, when she was getting over Leo, she’d been a little quieter. A little more reserved. But I always knew I could depend on her strength.

  Now it was my turn to be strong for her. I wasn’t sure if I knew how to do it, and once we opened the front door and went into the house, I was even less certain.

  Quinn huddled in a chair at the kitchen table, hugging her legs to her chest. My mother sat down next to her and pulled her into a hug.

  “Quinn . . . sweetie. Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.”

  I watched Quinn’s expression, and although she didn’t fight my mother’s embrace, her face remained blank. Immobile. She didn’t react or respond, and after a few minutes, my mom released her and sat back.