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His expression sobers, sending chills down my spine. His hand comes up, but at the last minute he pulls back and lightly drags one finger down my jaw. “I like sweet things that know how to be naughty. Nothing has to be perfect in this life, I think we just combine the perfect moments, and later when things turn unperfected, we remember the gifts we were given, otherwise, how do you even survive?”
I spin in his arms and pull him close in a hug. “Whoever broke your heart never deserved you.”
“Nah, I never deserved her, and my best friend loved her first.”
That’s what he leaves me with as we walk hand in hand toward the door and it kills me that I don’t have the guts to ask what happened in that moment, because it’s gone.
And because I don’t want to tarnish our present with his past. We keep walking and eventually are on the beach, past all of the small-town cafes, restaurants, all the people just roaming around trying to vacation.
Music hits us the minute we hit the boardwalk, someone’s playing guitar while their dog sits next to them, the dreads on their head look badass and quite honestly, he looks so free in his worn white tank top and blue jeans that I almost want to spin in front of him.
Quinn notices me pause then pulls me toward the guy and his guitar case, he drops a five-dollar bill in the case.
“What do you want to hear?” The guy stops playing immediately and asks.
His smile is free and cool. His eyes, a clear blue, his posture not like a person who’s living off the streets.
I frown and tilt my head.
Quinn points. “You’re, you’re, you’re—“
“—-Shhhh.” He grins. “I like a good hobby.”
“Demetri.” Quinn gets the word out. “Bro, I haven’t seen you in like seven years!”
“Demetri?” I repeat. “The homeless guy is Demetri?”
Alleged Demetri winks at me, he’s extremely good-looking his hair is pulled back into a ponytail with the light blonde dreads and he’s looking like he belongs on a red carpet more than a street in Oregon, though his shirt is dirty I now realize that it’s on purpose.
“YO.”
“Did he just say yo?” I ask.
Quinn laughs. “Bro, it’s good to see you, how are the kids?”
“Good. Busy.” He nods. “So very, very, busy.” He winks his blue eyes at me. “But thanks for the fiver, I guess I can buy a burger now.”
Quinn rolls his eyes. “Maybe sell a Grammy instead?”
Demetri grins. “This is so much more pure and fun, hey, take this…” He grabs the five and hands it back to Quinn. “Go get ice cream or some shit, avoid the birds at all costs, they’re aggressive this year, and go for a walk.” He eyes me up and down. “You picked a good one.”
I’m stunned. “How do you two even—“
“—Cousins.” Quinn shrugs. “Like twice removed or whatever we figured out last time we got wasted on Mountain Dew.” He fist bumps Demetri, a dude from one of the biggest bands in the world that has a house in Seaside right next to Zane, what is even happening?
They bro hug as bros do and then we’re walking toward the beach and I’m taking off my shoes and staring up at Quinn like he’s this… subject I need to study. “How do you know famous people?”
He smirks, then frowns down at me. “Um, well, you heard, I’m actually related to one, and the thing about Seaside Oregon? They’re all best friends, all the famous actors, all the famous singers, they came here for a freaking break and if you know one you know them all, it’s how I recognized Zane earlier. Plus, also, they’re actually the coolest ever. I only ever went to two dinners, but it was enough to set me up for life as far as entertainment. They don’t get wasted, too many kids, too much drama, they even have ties into the mafia, but don’t tell anyone I said that.”
I stumble. “The mafia?”
He shrugs. “Snitches get stitches.”
“What is this day?”
Quinn pulls out his phone. “It is the Saturday of my near death, one because of falling from the sky, and the other from getting a taste of you.” He kicks the sand. “Ice cream my ass, you already licked me dry.”
I stumble again, this time he catches me. How does he smell so good? I’ve always hated cologne, it felt like this toxic cloud of chemicals, but with Quinn it smells masculine and soft at the same time. Like a vanilla cinnamon latte.
