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I toe out of my shoes and sit with my back propped against the headboard, ignoring the fact that Quinn probably sl
ept in this very spot only a short while ago.
“Go away, Quinn,” she groans. When she adjusts her hold on the pillow, I see nothing but bare shoulders leading to a bare back. Holy shit. Is she naked? I shut out what that could mean as a dozen memories filter through my mind of us together. My silence lasts too long because she sighs as she sits up to glare at me, her sheets falling to her waist, exposing her. Her eyes widen with surprise and then she quickly covers herself as I peel my eyes away from her breasts and to her eyes. “What in the hell are you doing here, Trace?”
“Your boyfriend let me in.”
Her eyes narrow. “He’s not my boyfriend, and you need to get out.” She lies back down, facing away from me, but doesn’t cover her head again. Still, I can see her eyes squeeze tightly together.
Today is not a good day for my girl.
The luxury of even calling her that is no longer mine, but that’s beside the point.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. There’s no one single thing I’m apologizing for. I’m sorry for all of it.
Brittany scoffs. There’s nothing I want more right now than to just hold her. She wouldn’t let me, I’m sure of that. She seems to be done with all conversation, so I settle in to wait her out. Her emotions will get the best of her soon enough and then I’ll be here for when she unleashes it on me.
In the meantime, I glance around her room. It’s a mess. Not dirty, but clothes are strewn everywhere, shoes seem to have been taken off at random points in the room, and her dresser is overflowing with various items. The worse she is, the messier she gets. I remember that from when she was in high school. And based on this room, she’s not doing well at all.
Fifteen minutes pass before she sniffs. I glance over at her just in time to see her wipe away a tear. My entire body is buzzing with a need to feel her, to hold her, to comfort her. If she’s vulnerable enough, she’ll let me. I hate that I think that. I hate it even more that I’m going to take advantage of it for my own selfish needs.
I slide further down on the bed, lay an arm over her waist, slip the other underneath her neck and get as close as I can. At first she stiffens, but then she slowly relaxes. Her tears fall onto my arm at a fast rate. I have no clue how she’s holding it together right now.
“Let go, Britt,” I whisper.
Her muscles tense as she rolls to face me. Her mouth opens to yell most likely, but another voice stops her.
“What the hell kind of friend is he, Brittany?”
She sighs, closing her eyes.
“Old boyfriend,” I answer, her eyes flashing open to glare at me.
“Fucking figures,” he grumbles. “I forgot my phone.” He stomps over to her nightstand and grabs it.
Brittany sits up. “Quinn.” Her voice is soft as she reaches out to grab his wrist. The tone of her voice causes him to pay attention and look at her, where before he was avoiding it. “I’m too tired to fight either of you, so I just gave in.”
He stares at her for a moment, long enough for her to drop her hand. I should probably feel uncomfortable at this point, but I don’t. Well, maybe a little. I’m here for Brittany, though, and we’re going to talk.
Quinn cups her face. My jaw clenches when he kisses her forehead. “This is still over. It’s too much work,” he whispers to her. “I can’t be supportive when you don’t let me in all the way. You won’t let me be here for you.”
Her reply is barely audible. “I’ve tried.”
“I know, baby, but we’re not working.” He kisses her forehead one more time before leaving.
Brittany is frozen, it seems. Even after we hear the door close with a loud thud, she doesn’t move.
“Britt,” I start. My voice snaps her out of it.
She stands and grabs a robe hanging from the open closet door. “You do not call me that. You shouldn’t even be here! I don’t want you here, Trace! What part of I hate you didn’t you understand? It’s bad enough that you show up like this, and then have to witness my boyfriend breaking up with me for the second time this morning, but now, you won’t leave! GO! Get the hell out of my apartment! Don’t come back! I don’t want to know why you’re here. I don’t want to hear your side of the story. I don’t fucking care anymore, okay? I don’t give two shits about anything, so for the love of all that is holy, get the fuck out!” she screeches, her chest heaving as she catches her breath.
When I stand, she mutters, “Thank god.”
I don’t leave.
Instead, I walk around the bed and over to where she’s standing. Her eyes widen as she takes a step back. I grasp her face between my hands and dip my head to kiss her. She doesn’t resist. She doesn’t have a non-reaction. No, my girl kisses me with so much desire, her hands immediately roaming underneath my T-shirt and over my torso with such a hunger that if I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if she’s been devoid of human contact since the last time I saw her.
I crush her to me, the thin robe not hiding anything. God, I’ve missed her. She fits as perfect now as she did then. She’s gained back more of the weight she had lost. Her figure is fuller and my hands are itching to slip beneath her robe to explore. Her arms move to wrap around my neck as her breasts rub against my chest when she lifts onto her toes. I hook my hands under her thighs and wrap those beautiful legs around me.
