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“Red, what are you doing?” Quinn’s voice is muffled because my head is still tangled under my shirt.
“Getting undressed, Captain Obvious,” I reply, finally tearing the shirt off and discarding it onto the floor.
As my eyes focus, I see him slowly scan down my body. And as I watch him tug at his lip ring, I wonder what the hell is wrong with him. He’s seen me in my bra before, given this is a little more forward, as I’m usually slipping a T-shirt over my head and him catching me getting dressed, as opposed to being undressed.
But he’s looking at me like he’s about to attack.
I look down, wondering what the fuss is all about, and realize I’m wearing the new bra I purchased a few days ago. Myverytransparent lacy bra. And because it’s cold, my nipples are pretty much on display, as the lacy material does nothing to cover them.
I should be wrapping my arms around myself, shielding my nudity, but I don’t.I like the way Quinn’s chest dips on each deep inhalation and expands with each exhalation. It shows me he’s as affected by me as I am by him.
“Red,” he says, and the hitch in his voice has me stepping toward him.
I want so desperately for him to touch me, and if it’s the alcohol giving me courage with each step I take, I don’t care. All I know is that I want his hands on me because I feel most alive when they are.
“Touch me,” I whisper within a few steps of him.
Quinn clenches his fists and exhales through his nostrils, his breath coming out unevenly.
“Please put your top back on,” he says, walking away from me.
“No,” I reply defiantly. “Touch me. Please.”
Hesitantly reaching for his clenched fist, I slowly move it toward my chest. But he tears it away, turning his back to me. His shoulders are rising and falling quickly, his breaths leaving him in labored pants.
Is he angry with me?
“Quinn…I…”
“Red, please,” he says and does something I never expected him to do.
He walks out the door, slamming it shut behind him.
What the fuck?
A tsunami of emotion drowns me, and I feel vulnerable and exposed. So I reach down and slip on my T-shirt with shaky hands.
What just happened? I practically threw myself at Quinn, and he shot me down. He knew how hard that was for me, yet he still turned me down.
Suddenly, a horrible thought hits me. Doesn’t he want me that way anymore? Doesn’t he wantme?Has he finally realized how bad I am for him?
How bad of a person I am.
That thought has me running to the bathroom, heaving up the entire contents of my stomach until nothing remains. But it’s still not enough.
However, sadly, I just feel the emptiness taking over until all that is left is pain.
Iwake the following morning, hurting everywhere. My whole body aches—inside and out.
After purging my guts out, the pain was still there, so I decided to sleep it off, but sleeping without Quinn’s warmth was near impossible. But I must have slept some because it’s now morning.
It’s the day of Hank’s funeral.
The slice of sunlight that pokes its happy head out through the blinds does nothing to transfer any warmth into my life.
I’m dead inside.
I know Quinn’s reason for coming here was to sidetrack me, an attempt to distract me from the reality that by the end of today, Hank will be buried in a small hole in the ground.And I have a sneaking suspicion that’s what Tabitha grilled Quinn about on the phone.
