by JA Low
The crowd gives her a noisy and almost incomprehensible hip, hip, hooray.
“Sorry.” She turns to Kevin and buries her face into his chest.
I should be the one who she turns, not Kevin.
“You did good, kid,” he tells Quinn, then turns back to the crowd. “Let’s all get fucked up.”
The crowd raises their glasses in agreement.
Kevin rushes off to join his team, leaving Quinn and me together.
She surprises me when she wraps her arms around me in front of everyone. “Thank you for putting me back together again,” she whispers in my ear before releasing me and making her excuses to leave.
Shit! I need to go check on the kitchen, but Quinn’s left the building in tears.
“I’ll go check the kitchen. You go after her.” Layla walks past me, giving me a knowing wink. I mouth ‘thank you’ as I rush out after Quinn. It’s dark outside, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust.
“Quinn,” I call out into the night sky.
“Sebastien?” I hear her sniffle my name.
There she is huddled around the corner. I rush over and kiss her passionately, hoping to convey my feelings for her through my lips, then I press my forehead against her.
“I don’t want you to leave,” I tell her. Those doe blue eyes widen with surprise. “I’ve fallen for you, Quinn.” Tears continue to fall down her cheeks, but she smiles. “I want to give whatever this is between us a try. You and me.”
Quinn’s silent for a moment, so I continue, “I don’t want to let you go,” I tell her. She needs to know that I’ve fallen for her. I am not sure when or how it happened, all I do know is that I want a life with Quinn. I want to see what we are like outside of the show. I don’t want to hide what we have anymore.
“I can’t.” Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I stumble back. “My life is in America.”
“Your life can be here, too,” I tell her.
“I can’t take that risk, Sebastien.” Those blue eyes plead with me to understand what she’s saying, but I just can’t.
“You think I’m a risk?” I question.
“You have a reputation, Sebastien.” She opens her mouth to continue, but I cut her off before she can start.
I rake my hand through my hair angrily. “In these past three months have I ever made you think that I didn’t want you?”
“It’s not about wanting, Sebastien. It’s about lasting the distance. Chad took everything from me. Now, you’re asking me to give up everything for you.” Tears stream down her face as she chokes on her words.
“Chad. Everything is always about fucking Chad.” I kick the side of the building in frustration.
“It’s not about Chad,” Quinn screams at me. “It’s about me.” She thumps her chest a few times. “When does anyone give something up for me? Why am I always the one giving up everything?”
“I’m halfway through this project, Quinn. I just can’t abandon it right now,” I tell her.
“I know that, Sebastien.” She folds her arms in front of her chest. “I would never ever demand you give up your dream for me.”
My stomach sinks.
Her words hit me fair in the chest.
Because I am asking her to give up her dreams of home for me.
The reason I started this project in the first place was to have something that was mine, that no one could or would ever take away from me again.
“Fuck,” I scream as I pull my hair out. “I get it, Quinn.” As I stare over at her, my heart breaks in that moment as I let out a heavy sigh. “It’s not our time,” I tell her.
She bursts out crying, and I pull her into my arms.
“I’m so sorry, Sebastien. I really do love you,” she says before she cries into my chest.
“I love you, too, Quinn.” The tears are even running down my cheeks. “But I have to let you go, I know that now. Be free. Maybe one day you might find your way back to me when the time is right for you.” I place a kiss on her forehead.
“I’ll know how to get back here when the time is right,” she whispers.
I suck in a deep breath inhaling her berrylicious smell and commit it to memory one last time, then bend down and kiss her goodbye. She wraps herself around me tightly, where we stay like that for a little while.
When we pull apart, I head back into the kitchen, and Quinn goes back into the party, and we both act as if our hearts haven’t just been ripped out of our chests and stomped on.
41
Quinn
Month One Apart
Our time apart hasn’t been going so well. I’ve spent the entire month lazing on the couch at Lettie’s place on the sofa drowning in a sea of cookie dough ice cream. There wasn’t much to say after that night. We both went our separate ways, and I boarded the next flight out of Spain. I couldn’t stand being there one more moment without Sebastien.
Lettie thinks I’m a damn idiot for coming home, that I should have stayed in Spain with Sebastien. But I knew I needed to do this for me. That if Sebastien and I stood a chance, I need to be able to stand on my own two feet and be the woman he deserves, which basically means working my shit out and getting my mind straight.
Lettie signed me up with a therapist to work through my post-traumatic stress disorder I seemed to gain over the Chad disaster. Derrick and the awesome Dirty Texas girls have tried to entice me out with them, they’ve invited me over for family barbecues, but I just haven’t felt up to it.
My milestone events so far…
How many times have I stalked his Instagram page? 1,390 times.
How many times have I picked up the phone and listened to his old voice notes? 2,163 times.
How many times have I stalked his family’s Instagram? 978 times.
How many times have I picked up the phone to call him and then remembered I can’t? 831 times.
How many times have I cursed myself out for being an idiot and leaving a perfectly good man behind? 10,487 times.
How many pints of cookie dough ice cream have I consumed? No one needs to know the true answer to that, now do they?
Looking at that list after one month apart, things are not good.
42
Quinn
Month Two Apart
All that time spent crying on Lettie’s sofa with a pint of cookie dough ice cream probably wasn’t the greatest idea, especially as the network wants to start advertising the show before the fall season opener. And when one of my favorite dresses won’t do up, that’s when I know I have to ditch the ice cream and get my life back on track.
Lettie and I have been keeping busy going to the gym, going to Pilates and yoga. She introduced me to the LA lifestyle of trying any manner of beautiful procedures, which some are just insane. But mentally, I am feeling a lot better. I finally said yes to catching up with the Dirty Texas crew, and that was great. Derrick did pull me aside and tell me he had been speaking to Sebastien and that he filled him in on our relationship. Derrick told me he totally understood my reasoning behind coming home, but he just wanted to let me know that Sebastien has turned into the biggest grump and is really missing me. Yeah, that message pulled at the heartstrings.
I’ve been keeping myself busy lately. Carmen has been negotiating some brand ambassador deals for me which has been exciting. We’ve settled on the pink safety boots, the tools, and some clothing lines. They have netted me a lot of money. I thought that once I made my first solo multi-million-dollar deal that it would make me feel like I’ve accomplished something, instead it’s just made me feel hollow.
The therapist told me it’s because I thought proving to the world that I didn’t need Chad to succeed was my driving force, and maybe it once was, but it seems my priorities have shifted along the way, and those same goals no longer have any meaning.
Yeah, that made me dig deep inside. My milestone events for this month so far…
How many times have I stalked his Instagram page? 590 times.
How
many times have I picked up the phone and listened to his old voice notes? 405 times.
How many times have I stalked his family’s Instagram? 762 times.
How many times have I picked up the phone to call him and then remembered I can’t? 531 times.
How many times have I cursed myself out for being an idiot and leaving a perfectly good man behind? 8,487 times.
How many pints of cookie dough ice cream have I consumed? Not as many as last month, that’s for sure. But don’t judge me, okay?
How many times have I called him? 0 times. But I did text him and that counts.
Quinn: I saw our promo images online for the first time. They look great.
Okay, not the greatest opening line, but it’s a start.
Sebastien: I think the one of you pretending to fish is a winner.
Oh my God, he wrote back and with a joke, and I’m giddy with excitement.
Quinn: The picture of you with a face full of flour and a bucket in my hand is pretty great.
Sebastien: I hear congrats are in order on your brand deals. Good work.
Quinn: Thank you. I heard you had some of your own too.
Sebastien: Not going to say no to a famous knife company supplying the kitchen with an unlimited number of knives for a year. They are expensive.
I find myself smiling while reading his texts. And the texts keep coming and coming. We talk about the most mundane things. He keeps me in the loop with the farm, shares photographs of the progress on the villa. And each time I hear from him, the hole in my chest becomes wider and wider.
It’s a gaping chasm, and I miss him terribly.
43
Quinn
Month Three Apart
Our texts soon turn into phone calls of the nightly kind—well, my night, his day. He calls me on his way from his apartment to the farm. He excitedly talks about everything that’s been happening, he’s even been sending me updates on the goats and their new enclosure.
Sebastien’s progressed on the market garden, and now he realizes he’s a bit of a brown thumb when it comes to gardening, so his mama has taken over that job, and it’s beginning to thrive.
Sebastien finally purchased some chickens for the upcycled chicken coop I created. He sent me a video of the pool at the villa being filled with water, and it looks incredible, especially with the mountains in the background. All the plumbing, electrics, and the roof has been restored in the villa, so he’s preparing to move in full-time next week when he returns from LA.
Oh, you caught that, did you?
Yep, that’s right. Sebastien is coming over for the premiere of the first episode of Under the Spanish Sun. Things have begun to take off over here with the trailers and teasers released. I’ve been flat-out doing talk shows and Sebastien calling in via Zoom. The first interview with him was difficult. My heart ached, seeing him on screen, but once the conversation started, things fell into place again.
But tonight, I will be seeing him in the flesh at the show’s premiere. I’m a bundle of nerves for the show and for seeing Sebastien again. I’m excited, elated, nervous, worried—every emotion you can feel, I am feeling it.
What happens if all this time apart has made him think that we are better off as friends?
Or perhaps he’s met someone else?
I can’t assume that his feelings for me are still the same. Sometimes time apart isn’t always the answer.
Last night, it was the premiere of Chad’s new show which was slammed by the critics. I may have had a snicker or two over the scathing comments he received online. The figures that came in weren’t good either—the show ranking as one of the lowest premieres in the history of the network.
So please, network gods, fo not let us be lower than Chad’s debut, that’s all I ask.
“Are you ready?” Lettie asks as I take one last look in the mirror to check that I don’t have lipstick on my teeth. “Stop stressing. You look gorgeous.”
I’ve gone for a cute, white sequined mini dress with long sleeves and a low-cut back. It’s a little daring for me, but I thought the occasion calls for something sexy.
We jump into the waiting limousine and head toward the studio.
“Everything is going to be okay,” Lettie tries to reassure me. “He is going to take one look at you and fall to his knees.”
Yeah, I wish.
“What happens if the spark isn’t there anymore? What happens if it was just the Spanish sun that worked between us?”
“Come on now, Quinn. You can’t think like that. You two are always on the phone with each other these days. Men don’t talk that much unless they’re into you,” Lettie tells me.
Maybe she’s right.
The LA traffic is a nightmare, but we eventually make it to the studio a little later than we intended.
“Take a deep breath and put on that winning smile, Quinn Miller,” Lettie tries to pep me up.
So, I suck in a deep breath and blow it out, calming myself down as someone opens the limousine’s door. Kevin is there dressed in a suit holding out his hand for me.
“Thank you.” Noticing my hand shaking in his, he gives it a big squeeze to try and calm me down.
“You look beautiful tonight, Quinn,” he whispers into my ear. “Now, let’s rock this red carpet.”
I nod my head in agreement and push my shoulders back, trying to muster up as much confidence as I possibly can. The red carpet is a blur as I twist and turn and pose. I answer the same mundane questions over and over from reporters. My cheeks hurt from smiling as I step off the carpet and into the studio space that has been set up with cocktails for the show.
“You did good,” Lettie whispers in my ear, but my eyes are scanning the room for Sebastien. Is he here yet?
Kevin’s phone goes off in his pocket. “Shit,” he curses when he looks at it. “Sebastien’s flight’s been delayed. He won’t get here till the end.” I relax ever so slightly at his words. “The bigwigs are going to hate this, but it is what it is, can’t bring an airplane in any faster.” Kevin scurries away.
“Drinks, then?” Lettie asks.
“Oh, hell, yes.”
It’s go-time, and Kevin calls me up on stage with the rest of the crew, unfortunately minus Sebastien. He introduces us to the room, which receives a rousing round of applause. He waffles on for a bit, then he excitedly lets everyone know the show is now live. The room erupts, and the introduction to our show starts. I can’t watch, so I disappear and find myself somewhere to have a quiet drink and pray that we beat Chad in the ratings, even if by only a few points.
“You look so beautiful tonight, Quinn.”
That voice. That deep timbered accent, the one that’s embedded into my everything is here and talking to me. I don’t dare turn around because I don’t want him to see the tears that are already welling in my eyes.
“You still smell like berries,” he whispers, his lips touching my skin ever so gently that my body practically combusts in that moment.
Slowly, I turn around and see his handsome face. He looks a little tired, and he may have lost a little weight too. His dark hair is disheveled, he hasn’t had time to shave, and his jaw is covered in dark prickles. I reach out and touch his cheek, just to see if he’s actually here, and it is not a figment of my imagination.
“You’re really here.” The words tumble out of my mouth as my fingers feel the prickles against my skin.
“Yes,” he answers quietly, his eyes closing as my fingers run over his skin. The world seems to stand still—it is as if time itself has stopped.
“I’ve missed you, Sebastien.” It is the only words I can think of to say in this moment.
“You have?” His left brow quirks up in a question.
“More than you could ever know.” The first tear falls down my cheek, and his face softens as he watches it roll down.
“Oh, I know, Quinn. Because I’ve missed you every waking moment since the day you left. I haven’t stopped thinking about you, no matter
how many times I told myself that I had to let you go.”
Well, damn. I can feel the torture I put him through, and I feel like a monster for doing so.
“I should never have left you,” I confess.
“No?” He seems a little surprised by my admission.
“No.” I shake my head. “Because I realize now that you’re my home. That whatever I thought I was searching for I had found it. I just didn’t realize that fact till I never had it anymore.”
Sebastien’s fingers sink into my hair as he pulls our faces together, our foreheads touch.
“Do you mean that, Quinn?”
“Yes,” I tell him breathlessly. “I love you, Sebastien. I never stopped. I’m sorry I put you through this pain. I never meant to hurt you, I just needed to sort myself out,” I try to explain my reasoning.
“And are you sorted out?” he questions.
“Yes.” Letting out a sigh, I state, “I know exactly what I want…” our eyes meet as tension swirls around us, “… you,” I tell him.
The next thing I know, he has me pushed up against the brick wall as his lips devour mine in a frenzied kiss.
“I want you, Quinn. Only you. It was always you,” he confesses. His hands run all over my body as I feel his hardness against me.
“I promise I will never run again,” I tell him through feverish kisses.
“I promise I will never give you a reason to.”
As his lips connect with mine, we devour each other.
Sebastien pulls away, grabs my hand, and pulls me along the corridor until he finds an empty meeting room. He slams the door behind us and has me pushed up against it in two seconds flat. The only light shining in the room is from the streetlights outside—we are bathed in shadows.
“I need to be inside you, Quinn,” Sebastien whispers into my ear as he kisses my neck.
