“So I should do it?” she asks, throwing her phone onto the side table.
“Why don’t you at least email her back and see what she wants?” I say with a shrug. “If it doesn’t feel right, say no. If it does, tell your story.”
Quinn takes a sip of her wine, her eyes on the ocean, barely visible in the dark. “I want this over with,” she says, her words quiet, almost as though she’s talking to herself. “But I don’t want him to win either,” she adds.
I drop my arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer on the seat we share. Kissing the side of her head, I say, “I get that, and maybe this is your chance. Talk to her, see what she has to say, and then go from there.”
She looks up at me, her eyes searching my face before she reaches for her phone. I watch as she types out an email, not reading it, but knowing it’s a response to the podcast chick. When she’s done, she throws her phone back on the table and sinks back into the cushions.
“Good?” I ask, taking a sip of wine before I put my glass on the table.
She smiles and lets out a little laugh as she shakes her head. “I feel like you’re always asking me that,” she says.
“Yeah, well, I wanna make sure you’re okay,” I tell her. Quinn exhales, leaning into me, her head resting on my shoulder. I reach for my wine, taking another sip before I ask, “What’s something you used to do for fun before you met Sean?”
She pulls her legs up onto the seat, curling them to the side as she says, “Photography.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh huh. It’s actually how I met Sean,” she now says.
“What, like you were a professional photographer?” I ask.
Quinn laughs a little. “No, just a hobby. But I was taking some photos in Central Park one day, and unbeknownst to me, Sean was there with one of his bandmates. He thought I was trying to get photos of him to sell to the paparazzi or whatever and came over to yell at me to delete them. Guess I probably should’ve seen that red flag from the get-go.”
“Gonna guess instead of yelling, he started flirting?” I ask, knowing I did the same thing when I met Quinn, even if the situation was very different.
She rolls her eyes as she looks up at me. “I know it’s hard to believe after what he did tonight, but he actually was very charming in the beginning.”
I snort out a laugh. “I’m sure he was.”
She elbows me gently in the stomach. “Obviously not as charming as you, but he was.”
“Obviously,” I repeat, turning to drop a kiss to the top of her head. “But I get it, babe.”
“Do you?” she asks, clearly not believing me.
“Yeah,” I say with a shrug. “You probably thought I was a huge flirt when you first met me, right? And look at us now. Totes in a relationship and everything.”
Quinn bursts out laughing, rolling her head so she’s looking up at me. “Oh, believe me, I still think you’re a huge flirt,” she teases.
I scoff, curling my arm around her shoulders as I pull her into my lap. “Yeah, but you love it,” I whisper, my lips brushing against hers.
She smiles, a hand brushing the hair back from my forehead. “I do,” she confirms, her words a whisper. “You’re totally different from him, you know.”
“I know,” I reply with a smirk that only makes her laugh. “Like I said, I get it, babe,” I continue, wanting her to know that I don’t feel threatened by her ex or what they had together at all. “You loved him, you married him. I know no matter what happens, he will always be a part of you.”
“A part of my past,” she says, moving so she’s straddling me.
I slide my hands up her thighs, pushing the fabric of her dress higher. “Yeah, I know,” I whisper, as my hands reach her ass and I pull her against me. “It’s okay, Quinn, I get it.”
She loops her arms around my shoulders, her blue eyes dark in the low light as she looks down at me. Closing the distance, I feel her lips against mine, a slow, teasing kiss in the darkness.
“I think you should take photos again,” I whisper against her mouth.
She huffs out a breath, warm against my skin. “It’s not like I was a professional or anything.”
“You bring your camera to Hawaii?” I ask, ignoring her comment.
