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She knew, rationally, they came from different worlds. She was at peace with that. Mostly. It hadn’t mattered when she could barely stand him, and it shouldn’t matter now because they weren’t ever going to really date. She didn’t even really want a boyfriend or gentleman friend or any other term that encompassed a significant other, let alone one who probably stood to inherit a fortune. She’d learned the hard way that love could turn ugly if given the opportunity, and she wasn’t interested in a repeat. Sure, most of her experience was with family and not relationships, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t the truth.
“You’re thinking awfully hard over there.”
She jumped and then mentally cursed herself for jumping. “Goes with the territory. Don’t worry about it.”
“Humor me.” He’d said it like he really wanted to know, like he wasn’t just being polite. But then, when had Quinn ever bothered to put a polite mask on his interactions with her? They’d been vicious and snarky and hotter than hell, but never polite.
She started to demur but then reconsidered. They’d already agreed this wasn’t going beyond the end of the trip. What would it hurt to try her hand at actually being honest and expressing her needs? It would be good practice for the “someday,” when she theoretically found someone that she wanted to settle down with. She ignored the pang the thought brought on and focused on the now. “I was just deciding how I feel about you wanting to hide your family from me. Or me from your family. I’m not really sure which way that’s going.”
Quinn narrowed his eyes as he pulled off the interstate. “What part of ‘I don’t want you to have to deal with them’ did you not understand?”
“It’s okay. I get it. I’m used to being that person who doesn’t play well with others.” It had just never bothered her until now. Her own mother had more or less disowned her when she got too big for her britches and moved away to go to college, but as much as it still hurt on days when she was feeling particularly low, most of the time she chalked that one up in the win column.
The only other family she had interaction with on a regular basis was Jules’s. Those people were all so damn nice she was pretty sure half the strays in town had been brought into the fold at one point or another, and she was no different. They weren’t fazed when she was having A Day and snapped at everyone who came within range, and someone was already there with a smile and some off-the-cuff joke to bring her back from the edge. And they weren’t fancy rich folk who worried too much about which fork to use and if she could trace her bloodline back to some ancestor who participated in the genocide of the Native Americans.
A feeling twisted in her chest, making it hard to breathe. She blinked. Was that…homesickness?
“Obviously you don’t get it.” Quinn hesitated. “Damn. Okay. Look, those people are well-dressed monsters. They deliver verbal barbs like it’s an Olympic sport. I know you have thick skin and all, but the thought of one of them striking home on you makes me want to bundle you up and take you back to Devil’s Falls before they get the chance.”
Aubry blinked. Out of all the possibilities she’d considered, the fact that he thought he was protecting her had never entered into it. She was a warrior goddess—at least online. She didn’t need protecting. But the notion still warmed her cold little heart. “Quinn, I wouldn’t say I could handle it if I couldn’t.” She wasn’t afraid of not being able to handle it, exactly. But these people were so far from her people, it was almost laughable.
“I’m sure you think you can, but you haven’t met my family.”
“Trust me.” She didn’t like thinking about where she came from—went out of her way not to think about it most days—but the curiosity on his face was indication that he actually wanted to know. Plus, the best way to reassure him was to show him that she’d been raised in a house not that different from his own.
It was a lie. Their little trailer couldn’t be further from the rich folks he kept talking about, but mean was mean was mean. “My mom had very particular ideas about what my role in life was—mainly to stay the hell out of her way and not hurt on her buzz or scare off her man of the week. No, don’t look at me like that. It wasn’t bad growing up with her for the most part—mostly because I found Deathmatch in my formative years—but when she was liquored up, she was downright vicious. She could single out a person’s weakness inside of ten seconds and she never hesitated to go straight for the heart.”
