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“Why’d you date him?” I ask.
“I don’t know. He was cute. And it seemed like the thing to do. Here I was, starting my new life in California, ready to spread my wings.”
“You figured ‘might as well spread my legs too’?”
Her laugh is big. Hearty. “Oh my God.”
“You did.”
“Kinda.”
“Didn’t work?”
She shakes her head. “He would try. But I was too scared. I… well, we didn’t really have conversations. I kept telling myself I was too picky, that he was a nice enough guy, so what if he looked confused when I tried to discuss the movie we’d just watched?”
“How arty was it?”
“Not that much.”
I arch a brow.
“Oh my God, Wes, if I hear one more thing about Casablanca not being a masterpiece—”
“Never seen it. How would I know?”
“Do not remind me.”
“Or?”
“Or… um…” Her cheeks flush.
“You gonna replace me with a classic film buff?”
“Maybe.” Her lips curl into a smile. For a moment, she holds that confidence. Then her poker face falters. She shakes her head. “When I’m done with you.”
“You kicking me to the curb?”
“After I get mine, yeah.”
“Harsh.”
“Get used to it.”
My smile spreads over my cheeks. “I’m hurt.”
“You going to play dead again?”
“No, but if you want to make me stiff—”
Her tits shake as she laughs. “Not here.”
“So…” I motion go on. “Dylan was a dolt.”
“He loved the Red Hot Chili Peppers. He could talk about that all day.”
My nose scrunches.
“I know. I, well, I thought maybe everyone liked them. They play them on the radio all the time. And half their songs are about California. I thought maybe all Californians like them.”
“Hell no.”
She laughs. “Thank God.”
“What do you listen to?”
“I like big band stuff.”
“Anything I would know?”
“Nothing that gets radio play. Well, Amy Winehouse kinda had that sound. Sorta.”
“She was great.”
“Yeah. She was. There’s this doc about her struggle with addiction. It’s brutal, but it’s beautiful.”
“A documentary?”
She nods.
“A movie that’s non-fiction?” I scrunch my nose like my objection to the film is its entertainment value. Not its content. I’m sure it’s a fantastic movie, but there’s no way in hell I’m watching some painful portrayal of addiction. I know that all too well.
“Don’t tell me you don’t watch docs?”
I shrug like I could give or take the movie. “I guess I would.”
“Wes—”
“I’m going to end up in Dylan tier at this rate, huh?” I try to make my voice teasing, but I don’t quite get there.
Quinn doesn’t notice. She nods. “I do have standards.”
“You’re really into movies.”
“I guess so. I just… there’s something about that feeling when the lights go down. Like you’re going to be taken on a journey. You can forget everything else.”
“You forget everything else?”
“I’m not that bad.”
I shrug aren’t you?
She laughs, but it’s not easy. She’s insecure about her inability to turn off her thoughts.
“It’s endearing.”
“Thanks… I think.”
“What else do you do for fun?”
“Fun?” She swings her legs back onto her board. Lays flat. Stares up at the sky. “I’m not sure I’ve had any time for fun since… I don’t even know.”
“School keeps you that busy?”
“It doesn’t come easily to me.”
“Fooled me.”
She pokes her head up. “Really?”
I nod. Really. Quinn always seems pulled together. Like she has everything figured out. Well, maybe everything besides flirting and sex.
“I guess I’m like you. Good at keeping up appearances.”
“There are no appearances here, angel.” I tap my head. “This is as empty as it seems.”
“We both know that’s bullshit.”
I shrug maybe, but she doesn’t buy it.
“I guess… hmm… fun. Well, I watch movies. A lot of movies. I talk to Owen. And the yoga. Though that’s more because I have to. Or else my thoughts get too cluttered.”
“You actually slow down and breathe?”
“It’s a process.”
Fuck, it’s impossible to do anything but picture her in downward dog.
It’s not the time.
She’s letting me in.
A little, but still.
“What about you?” she asks. “Is it all babes and booze?”
“A lot babes and booze.”
“When it’s not?”
“Griff and I do a lot.”
“Despite his lack of tact?”
“Yeah.” I laugh. “He gets on my last nerve, but he’s a good guy to have around. Makes me seem smooth as silk.”
“That’s it. Not that you actually love him and appreciate his honesty.”
“The honesty is harsh, but it’s good to have.”
“Mhmm.”
“Mhmm?”
“You’re still trying to convince me you’re this easy breezy guy.”
“And?”
“You know I’m a mess. Seems fair I know the truth.”
The truth. Fuck, what the hell is the truth? “What do you want to know?”
“You can’t possibly be this effortless.”
“You got me. I put product in my hair.” I slide off the board. Swim to hers. Place my hands outside her legs. “This is a nice view.”
Her blush deepens, but she holds strong. “Interesting.”
“Interesting.”
“You’re trying to distract me with sex.”
“You gonna follow in your brother’s footsteps?”
“Promised to fix your head.”
Good luck with that. “You trying to crack it open?”
“If you’re okay with that.”
Fuck, I don’t know.
Being with Quinn is different. Easier. And harder.
