by Tara Sivec
Fucking Quinn Bagley.
“You just messed up,” Wren whispers, her eyes wide with shock, as I quickly recover by pretending like I meant to stop right there in the middle of the routine and redo my messy ponytail. “Awww, you really do miss him!”
“Shut up!” I fire back at her, shoving my hands in my hoodie pocket when the girls can’t get it together and completely shit the bed on the rest of the routine before they all fall into exhausted heaps on the turf.
It’s not like he owes me anything. He doesn’t need to tell me what he’s doing or where he’s going. But that’s what it all boils down to. I am sad that he left, and in just one day, I seemed to have slipped right back into the sad, pathetic existence I was living here on the island before he showed up out of the blue and flipped my world upside down all over again. And now I can’t even focus on cheerleading.
Quinn Bagley broke me!
I’m sad, because he spent all day making me have the most annoying fun I’ve had since the last time I spent a few hours with him, and then poof! He just left and took all the good times with him without even a goodbye.
“He sure gave up easy, didn’t he? Not very dedicated to his favor-cause if you ask me,” I grumble, smacking my fingers against the screen of my phone to turn off the music.
“I still don’t understand why you tortured him all day. You know you wanted to say yes to that dare the minute he asked you.”
“Of course I did.” I scoff, and the girls all start pushing themselves up from the ground. “I would have said yes the second he asked me on the beach.”
“Then why the hell didn’t you?” Wren screeches, smacking me on the arm.
“Uh, because I have some pride. And I’m easy, but I’m not that easy.”
“And because you had entirely too much fun giving him hell all day. You should have just agreed to it.”
“I don’t even know what it is!” I complain, throwing my hands up in the air as the girls start making their way toward us. “And yeah, I’m sad he left, but I’m pissed off more that I never got to find out what this favor even was. Of course I was going to say yes. After I left him sitting at the bar at SIG last night, I fully planned on finally giving in the next time I saw him. And then I woke up this morning to find out he went back to the mainland.”
You know—when I casually walked into the hotel lobby after my second jog past and asked LaVon Barber who runs the front desk if he’d been down yet.
Only to be told he checked out hours before.
Uuuggghhh, why am I letting a man dictate my happiness? This is not me! Put him out of your mind! You kept turning him down, he finally got fed up, and now you can just move on once and for all.
“Ms. Flanagan, tell us again about how you beat Quinn Bagley at cornhole! Jenny was late to practice and didn’t get to hear it.”
“No! Tell us about how he was so sweet and ordered you pizza when you were hangry!”
“Come on, the best part was when he held her hair back for her when she was sick! I cannot even right now just thinking about it!”
“I just want to hear her describe how he smelled like taking a hot shower in the cool, fresh mountain air, after chopping cedar, on a leather couch, next to a crackling fire!”
Jesus, I really should have cooled it with the analogies on that one.
I probably should have known that coming to this practice after being the talk of social media for the last week would mean a group of teenage girls would want to do nothing more than ask me hundreds of questions about Quinn. I gave up trying to deny the relationship, especially after his world tour of the island yesterday, popping up wherever I was, and getting tongues wagging all over the place. I figured it wouldn’t be long now until he did some sort of press conference or released some sort of statement denying everything, so people would finally move on.
Since no one would listen to me anyway, I didn’t figure there would be any harm in giving the girls something to calm their curiosity and get them to stop badgering me. I felt like it was important to make sure he didn’t sound like an asshole in any way, because he really wasn’t. Unfortunately, once I started talking about Quinn and all of his good qualities, I might have gotten carried away and went a little overboard before I pulled myself together and called an order to practice.
Whatever. It could happen to anyone.
With my usual ear-piercing whistle, I finally get the girls quieted for a few seconds.
“Okay, that’s enough! This is why you guys couldn’t get it together at practice tonight. Your heads are in the clouds with a quarterback who does not play for the team you cheer for and who you’re supposed to be perfecting this dance for,” I remind them, refusing to think about how much my head has been in the clouds tonight, promising myself I will tell Kristen that I will fill in for her as much as she wants, to make up for the disservice I gave the girls with my own stupid, quarterback obsession.
“One more question, and then I swear we’ll never ask you another one again,” Madison, the captain of the squad, says, stepping forward from the cluster of girls. “It’s just so cool that you’re dating a quarterback for the Professional Football League! Like, it just doesn’t get any cooler than that! You’re going to meet so many famous people. I’m so jealous.”
“Hey, you’ve met my husband!” Wren smiles at the peppy seventeen-year-old.
“Eh, he’s all right. I mean, it’s baseball. Kind of boring.”
“My son wouldn’t be happy if I killed her, right?” Wren whispers as she leans in close to my ear.
“Probably not. She’s a senior, and the homecoming queen, and he’s but a lowly freshman. Be cool, Mom,” I whisper back before addressing Madison. “Fine. One more question, and then I never want to hear his name out of any of your mouths again.”
And that includes my own.
They all giggle and whisper for a few seconds before a blonde freshman in the back is brave enough to ask the final question, hopefully ever.
“We really just want to know what it’s like to kiss him.”
Did anyone else hear that record screech, and a hush fall across the crowd? No? Just me? Why am I so nice? I should have put an end to the Q&A session as soon as it started, instead of blathering on and on about that man for twenty minutes! You give teenagers an inch, and they take a mile…
“Yeah, we need to know what it’s like to kiss Quinn Bagley!”
“He’s so nice! I bet he kisses really nice, and gentle, and his lips are super soft.”
“Nope, he just grabs on tight and goes for it! Have you seen the muscles on him?”
“I heard my mom talking on the phone last night to her best friend, and she said she would totally take a hall pass for Quinn Bagley, and cheat on my dad. I mean, eeew! But also, yes, please!”
“Come on! Give us the details! He’s always chewing gum on camera. Does he taste like peppermint when he kisses?”
“Uhhh… I… ummm,” I stammer, stalling for time. It’s not like I can exactly wax poetic about kissing the guy, since I have no real experience with it.
Although, thanks to a bunch of teenagers, I now have plenty of visuals.
“Seriously, you can’t keep this kind of information from us, Ms. Flanagan!”
“Yeah, Ms. Flanagan, what’s it like to kiss him?” Wren asks with a wag of her eyebrows, egging the girls on.
“I’m going to punch you right in the throat,” I threaten her under my breath, while the girls just won’t let up. “It’s… uhhh, you know. It’s a kiss!”
I internally cringe at how dumb I sound, wondering what it would take to get the high school mascot changed from a wildcat to a damn badger.
Uuuggghhh, teenagers!
“Come on, Ms. Flanagan, you have to tell us! God, the boys around here kiss like dead fish. A kiss from Quinn Bagley has to be toe-curling, and we need all the deets!”
Yes, yes, I imagine it would be quite toe-curling, what with all those hard muscles, his soft lips kissing their
way down my neck and across my collarbone as he pulls the front of my shirt down to—
“You’d know more about how I kiss, if you wouldn’t have failed at that dare.”
Fuck. Everything. Just burn my entire life to the ground so I can start over already.
Since I couldn’t differentiate between the giggling screams of the girls talking about kissing Quinn and the giggling screams of the girls when he walked out to the sidelines and up behind me, I slowly turn around when I hear the only voice in the world that can turn me on and make me shit my pants at the same time. And of course I’m greeted with a smirk on those damn soft lips that had my head in the clouds once again.
“I kiss really, really well, FYI,” Quinn whispers, his face only inches from mine, before he stands up to his full height and turns that panty-melting smile on the cheerleading squad, currently freaking out a few feet away. “Good evening, ladies. Looking great out there.”
Oh, flipping hell, how much did he hear? I need to start acting like I work for the CIA and never leave my back open. Son of a bitch!
“You really need to start wearing a bell,” I complain to Quinn as the girls all giggle and titter amongst themselves that the guy they were just talking about is standing right here.
If it weren’t for the fact that my mouth is completely dry after this man just had to make things worse by telling me how well he kisses, I’d probably be a giggling, tittering mess myself.
“And you need a whistle.” Quinn chuckles, the sound making my stomach do flip-flops. “Although that thing you do with your fingers is pretty hot. Never been able to master that myself.”
Wren finally jumps up from the bench, waves a little greeting to Quinn, and then gathers up all the squealing girls who are acting like typical teenagers in front of a gorgeous professional football player. She ushers them back to the middle of the field where they left their pom-poms and water bottles, so they can get started on their cooldown stretches to end practice.
“You’re a great coach,” Quinn tells me when everyone is far enough away that they can’t hang on our every word. “I was up in the stands watching for a little bit.”
Oh, thank the heavens above. He was way up in the stands, and I have one less thing to be completely mortified about. He didn’t hear anything.
“So, I smell like taking a hot shower in the cool, fresh mountain air, after chopping cedar, on a leather couch, next to a crackling fire?”
Why, God, why?
“How much did you hear?” I regrettably ask him.
“Oh, nothing until you so kindly turned the music off and I walked down here. But feel free to fill me in on what I missed. Particularly if there was any talk about my great ass…ets.”
His smile is infectious, and I’m just so damn happy he’s standing here in front of me again that I can’t help but return it. I also can’t help but drink in the sight of him wearing a pair of black Nike athletic shorts that show off his powerful thighs and his great assets, a red Sharks T-shirt that molds to every definition of his chest and upper arms, and a baseball cap spun around backward, giving his devious smile a boyish charm that I can’t resist.
“Why are you here?”
“You seem to keep asking me that question when we meet again. I’m here to see if you’ve decided to clear your good name and take the dare.”
“I thought you left.”
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and Quinn definitely notices how peevish I sound, going by how quickly the corner of his mouth tips up.
“Did you miss me?”
With his hands shoved casually in the front pockets of his shorts, Quinn leans his head down and puts his mouth close to my ear, making me hold completely still, and I refuse to breathe.
“Don’t tell anyone, but I really missed you… and the tater tots from The Barge, but mostly you. Fuck. You smell really, really good.”
With those final muttered words, Quinn pulls back and lets out a small huff, running his fingers through his hair like he’s actually nervous or something, while I try not to scream like the girls behind me, who lost their ever-loving minds when Quinn got close to me.
“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologizes when Wren gets the girls to quiet down and focus on their stretches once more, and I remember how to breathe again. “I told myself when I left this morning to work out with the guys, have lunch, and help Miles grocery shop that I would stop pissing you off so much when I came back. Even if you are kind of fun to piss off.”
“I’m glad I amuse you,” I reply, still unable to wipe the smile off my face. “So, you took a break from annoying me for OTAs? I guess that can be forgiven.”
The impressed smile from Quinn that I’m familiar with the terminology and what the offseason looks like makes me want to puff up my feathers and be proud that I impressed him.
I really am pathetic.
“Look, I’m just going to come right out and say it, so you can get all your annoyance with me out of your system once and for all,” Quinn starts, suddenly looking serious and even more nervous. “I lied to my boss about us dating, since I freaked out when she called, because I was probably drooling over your social media pictures, and if you happen to still have that tight, black dress you wore to the APL Charity dinner last year, I wouldn’t mind seeing it again, and I spoke without thinking,” he rambles, looking so adorably flustered I want to wrap my arms around him and tell him to take a breath.
And also making me really glad I still have that black, slinky, corset dress with the thick satin pinstripes that hugs my curves down to my knees, in the back of my closet…
“I don’t want her to think I’m a dumbass when she just hired me—and I fucking love this team—by telling her I panic-lied because I was being a perv. Pretty please just go to one lunch with me, pretend to be my girlfriend for a few hours, and impress my boss, because you are really fucking impressive, and she’s going to like you more than me. And then we can amicably break up, where I’ll say all kinds of nice things about you and how I couldn’t give you the time you deserved because I need to put all my focus on football, and boom! Your name is cleared with the fans as well as in the ultimate dare industry.”
I laugh when he finally finishes and takes a breath, this big, strong, professional football player, looking like he would rather do anything else right now than admit the truth to me and why he needs my help. I just make sure it doesn’t show on my face that the whole “breaking up” talk put a damper on my good mood, and the fact that after this lunch, I’ll probably never see him again. It’s fake. He doesn’t want to real date me; he just wants to fake date me, so he doesn’t get fired. It’s fine, and I’m fine that he’s just here because he needs me to play pretend with him for a few hours.
“And we can’t just pretend to be friends to accomplish the same thing?”
Quinn scoffs at me, then presses one of his palms against his chest. “You wound me. I totally thought we were already friends. You shared your tots with me.”
“You stole my tots.”
“Details,” he says with a wave of his hand. “Besides, no one would believe we’re just friends. Would you look at us? We’re hot. A football player and a cheerleader were literally made to be together. Let’s give the fans what they want. And feel free to really fall in love with me instead of just making it pretend.”
Every teasing word out of his mouth that’s probably meant to annoy me just makes me want him that much more, the rat bastard.
“Fine. I accept your dare.”
There’s an entire minute of silence between us, where I almost start to worry if Quinn changed his mind as soon as the words left his mouth, but then a huge smile breaks over his face, and he lets out a whooping cheer.
“She said yes!” Quinn stupidly shouts, making all the cheerleaders look over this way, not even realizing what those words would sound like to teenage girls with hearts in their eyes and happily ever after on their minds.
“Oh, shit,” he quick
ly mutters, smacking a hand over his mouth when the sounds of the girls screaming as they jump up and down rival that of the thunderous roar of the crowd at the Super Bowl. “Well, you have fun with that.” Quinn is smirking at me again as he starts backing away from me, and I just stand here shaking my head at him. “Thank you. I really mean that. I’ll text you the details about the lunch.”
“You don’t have my number,” I remind him as he increases the distance between us, and I just want to run after him and make him stay.
“Oh, Bodhi gave it to me.” Quinn smiles.
“Of course he did,” I mutter, when Quinn pauses for a minute in the middle of the track as he thinks of something else.
“I totally knew you were going to say yes, by the way.”
“If you knew I was going to say yes to the dare, why did you bother spending all day annoying me?”
“Uh, did you miss the part where I said it was fun pissing you off?” he retorts with a playful roll of his eyes, clapping his hands together twice like I do when I need to get people in order. “Keep up! We’re having fun now! Also, I dare you to do a toe-touch thing.”
With a sigh, another shake of my head at him, and another curse at Bodhi for giving up my secrets, I go through the motions, thankful I stretched with the girls a few hours ago. Clapping my hands together in front of me, then throwing them up in a high vee, I bend my knees and wind up, launching myself into the air and executing a perfect toe-touch before landing softly on my feet with a few bounces.
