First and Tension

by Tara Sivec

  “Quinn?”

  Jeanie’s voice is even closer than before, and I let out a squeak of fear as my horrified eyes meet Quinn’s, while he rapidly buttons his shirt and tucks it back into his pants. Quickly scooping up my shoes, giving up on my underwear, and hugging my dress to the front of me, I bolt away from Quinn, racing as fast as I can around the first row of lockers until I’m hidden from sight, bent over, and panting when I hear Jeanie greet Quinn.

  “There you are. No one seemed to know where you disappeared to,” I hear Jeanie say as I scramble to untangle my dress, shaking it out as quietly as I can and then stepping into it.

  “Oh, ha ha! Just… you know… getting some air,” Quinn tells her, making me roll my eyes, since Jeanie found him in the locker room and not outside.

  Lie better, man!

  “Right…” Jeanie pauses for a moment as I hop up and down, wondering if this goddamn dress shrank while Quinn was rearranging my guts against the wall. “Well, I was just looking for Emily. We agreed to wait until after dinner to have our chat.”

  Shit! Shit, shit, shit!

  Finally tugging the dress up my hips and stuffing my boobs back inside, I pause and roll my eyes again when Quinn answers her.

  “Oh! Yeah, haven’t seen her. But I’ll let her know you’re looking for her.”

  “Right,” Jeanie says again as I quickly pull the straps up over my shoulders and slip my shoes back on, my hands immediately pausing when I go for the zipper, when Jeanie’s voice suddenly gets louder. “When you finish getting dressed, Emily, just meet me in Conference Room C. Quinn can show you where it is.”

  “Yep! See ya there!” I shout back with a wince—no point in keeping quiet now—as I drop my head into my hands with a soft groan.

  A few seconds later, I hear Quinn chuckling, and I lift my head to find that he’s come around the corner of the lockers to my hiding place. He walks right up to me, his fingers grazing my hip, a small shiver working its way through my body when I remember how tightly he gripped my hips in his hands when his mouth was between my thighs, as he grabs my zipper and slowly tugs it up for me.

  That moment is over. We’re moving on now, Emily. Focus!

  He smiles at me when I turn to face him, smoothing out my hair and running my hands down the front of my dress to get rid of the wrinkles, as Quinn holds his hand out to me.

  “Missing these?”

  Narrowing my eyes on him, I quickly snatch my underwear dangling off one of his fingers, bending over and stepping into them. It takes me a second to shimmy into them, since I have to get them up under this damn tight dress, but I do it, and a few seconds later, I’m smoothing down the skirt again.

  “That was hot. You should do that again, but in slow motion.”

  “That was embarrassing,” I correct him. “And now I have to go sit in a conference room across the table from her, pretending like she wasn’t standing a few feet away from my underwear.”

  “Oh, she was standing right on your underwear,” Quinn helpfully adds with a smirk. “I think the jig is up.”

  With a sigh, I step forward, fixing Quinn’s tie for him since it’s a little askew, smoothing it down the front of him before dropping my hands.

  “Back to playing pretend.” My chest constricts when the words come out of my mouth, but that’s what we agreed, right? A few minutes of being real, and then it’s back to what we’re supposed to be doing.

  Quinn doesn’t say anything, and a ball of anxiety forms in my stomach, wondering if I said the wrong thing. But after a few seconds, he just gives me one of those dimpled smiles before leaning down, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek, and then pulling back.

  “Yep. I guess we are.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Quinn

  “It’s a food baby, goddammit!”

  Emily: Now that the charity event is over and the press and everyone bought it, I’m guessing you’ll be making that announcement?

  Quinn: Look at you, trying to get rid of me after a little good publicity.

  Emily: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

  Quinn: You would only know “the press and everyone bought it” because you’ve seen all over social media just how much everyone loved you last night. “Emily Flanagan outshined Quinn Bagley!”, “Looks like the cheerleader was the one scoring all the points!”, and my personal favorite, “Quinn Bagley who? We’re on Team Emily!”

  Quinn: At least I have one fan left. Someone with the username livin4420 said I looked positively dashing in my Tom Ford suit.

  Emily: Oh, ffs, that’s the guys! Palmer, Shepherd, and Bodhi, remember? That’s their stupid troll account that started this whole mess. I’m going to kill them. They promised to stop posting from that damn thing.

  Quinn: Don’t you harm one hair on their angelic heads. They said I looked dashing. I’ll give Bodhi a stern talking to when he gives me my surf lesson this morning.

  Emily: I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to hang out with them. You’re supposed to be enjoying your downtime and the privacy you can get here, and planning OTAs for your team.

  Quinn: What will people think if I’m staying on this island and I’m not friends with your friends, Emily?

  Emily: They’ll think we’re broken up. Which is what’s supposed to be happening, now that the charity event is over.

  Quinn: No, they’ll think I’m a shitty boyfriend who snubs your friends. I’m not about that snub life. I gotta do what I gotta do while the relationship is still hot.

  Emily: The fake relationship you’re supposed to be ending.

  Quinn: Yeah, well, that didn’t happen yet. We’re a hot commodity in the media at this moment. If we break up now, no one will believe it. Especially after you put on such a good performance last night and couldn’t keep your hands off me. #teamemily

  Emily: I think your memory of last night and my memory of last night differ greatly.

  Quinn: Oh believe me, the memory of last night will be burned into my brain forever. I won’t forget one single detail about what you felt like coming on my mouth and my cock.

  Emily: Was that necessary?

  Quinn: It’s definitely necessary for you to come every single time, preferably more than once. I have standards.

  Emily: We’re supposed to be talking about the break-up announcement.

  Quinn: You’re forgetting we still have a steak fry to attend next weekend. You didn’t tell me there would be a raffle basket filled with grilling supplies. I fucking love to grill! I already bought two-hundred tickets from Alicia Furlan when I ran into her at the diner this morning. I definitely gotta see this through now. She also told me the table you bought for my parents weeks ago would have a reserved sign on it. Sounds to me like someone really wanted me at this steak fry from the very start.

  Emily: Fine. Steak fry, then the announcement.

  Quinn: Don’t want to talk about the parents’ table, do ya? You’re just lucky they’ll be out of town next weekend. My mom is gonna be PISSED you didn’t tell her. Don’t worry; I’ll smooth things over. Gotta go, or I’ll be late for my surf lesson. We’ll talk more about this later. Have a good day at work, sweetheart!

  Emily: *middle finger emoji*

  Quinn: You really like that emoji. Is that another invitation?

  Emily: What did you do?

  Quinn: I did not inhale, I SWEAR! The Professional Football League drug tests us. I might have enjoyed a little second-hand sniffing during my surf lesson with Bodhi the other day, but that’s it. Why, what did you hear?

  Emily: A package was just delivered to the office from you.

  Quinn: Yay! Happy six month anniversary!

  Emily: What?

  Quinn: Wow. You forgot our anniversary. This is definitely why we break up. Technically, we’ve been “dating” for six months. I felt it was necessary to honor the momentous occasion of the day you puked at my feet. Open it!

  Emily: A shirt that says “Tequila made me do it”. You ass LOL!

&
nbsp; Quinn: Shepherd made it for me. I also got you a Quemily shirt. Feel free to sleep in it, and nothing else, and dream about me. But wait, there’s more! There’s also a Quinn Bagley Sharks jersey in there, so you can support your man and look swag at the steak fry.

  Emily: I’m not wearing your jersey to the steak fry.

  Quinn: Excellent. Nudity was my second choice.

  Quinn: Also, I dare you.

  Emily: GODDAMMIT!

  Quinn: Is there something you failed to tell me?

  Emily: Uh, no? I reminded you there might be painters coming to touch up some of the cottages before the official opening day this weekend, right? And I know I told you that you don’t have to feel bad for not putting Crouton in all the new shirts Shepherd left on your back deck. Since you’re now invading my space on this island, you get to hear all about my life from island gossip, probably before I even hear about it. Welcome to Summersweet. What have I been up to lately? I’ve been busy scheduling bookings all day and haven’t heard.

  Quinn: Oh, well, according to Shanna Pope when I was at the gas station filling up the golf cart, you might buck tradition and propose to me soon, so that should be fun! Let’s see… Jenny Kaiser stopped me in the check-out at the grocery store to make sure I know you’re not allergic to mushrooms, but you will vomit if you see one near your food. And when I stopped at the Dip and Twist for a milkshake, Wren told me that you told her that I have a giant penis and know how to use it.

  Emily: She did not. She would never divulge my secrets.

  Quinn: So you DID tell Wren I have a giant penis.

  Emily: *annoyed emoji* I guess one out of three isn’t bad.

  Quinn: OMGOMGOMG YOU’RE GOING TO PROPOSE?

  Emily: Summersweet official opening day is in a week. Do you really want to annoy me right now, when I’m up to my ass in bookings and the phone is ringing nonstop?

  Quinn: Oh yes, that thing you failed to mention to me. Hold please. Let me copy and paste it from the online article.

  Emily: Or you could just send me the link, Grandpa.

  Quinn: It’s much more fun this way, when I can read it again and be horrified that you didn’t tell me this big, life-altering news.

  Quinn: “Quinn Bagley and his island girlfriend, a former professional cheerleader for the Los Angeles Vipers, were seen at their first public outing since rumors of their secret affair began swirling over a month ago. The happy couple attended a charity event at Sharks Stadium last week, unable to keep their hands or their eyes off each other. Several stunning photos of the pair were taken throughout the night, but fans are chattering the most about the one in this article, showing the couple talking to Bill Riley, the Sharks’s General Manager. Is that a baby bump we see on Ms. Flanagan? Only time will tell if the Sharks’s new quarterback made the ultimate pass and will find himself starting his own little football team in the coming months.”

  Emily: Are you freaking kidding me?! I told you having that second piece of chocolate mousse torte for dessert was a bad idea. IT’S A FOOD BABY, GODDAMMIT!

  Quinn: You know what this means, right?

  Emily: Yes. That I am never eating in public again.

  Quinn: If I ever hear those words come out of your mouth again, I will take you over my knee and spank that sexy ass of yours. You are perfect. Your body is PERFECT. Every curvy, mouth-watering inch of you is perfect. Watching you enjoy a piece of chocolate cake, and hearing the little sounds you made every time you pulled that fucking fork out of your mouth, has now been added to my spank bank.

  Quinn: Want to know what else was added to my spank bank, on top of the Miss July bathing suit photo?

  Emily: Not particularly.

  Quinn: Are you sure? It involves the number of times you shouted, “Oh God, yes! Fuck me harder, Quinn!”

  Emily: You’re going to make it really easy to not shed any fake tears when we fake break up.

  Quinn: Anyway, back to my original point. You know what this Quemily baby-watch means, don’t you? This means we definitely can’t break up now. What will people think? That I’m a deadbeat dad who runs away from responsibilities? Hell no!

  Emily: Yeah, except I’m not actually pregnant.

  Quinn: Sorry, but Little Chocolate Torte Bagley and I have already formed a bond. Plus, I kind of, sort of agreed that we would be the parade marshals for the Summersweet Island opening day parade next week. Surprise!

  Emily: OMG!

  Quinn: I’m sorry! Your mayor is VERY persuasive. We can’t let Summersweet down. They’re counting on us to lead them on a jaunty march through town, while whipping hard candy at the faces of unsuspecting children.

  Emily: You are ridiculous.

  Quinn: Come on. I want to throw candy at kids. We’ve got the steak fry in a few days, then the parade and opening day festivities next weekend, then maybe you can get rid of me after that.

  Emily: I feel like you’re just doing all of this because you want a locker room repeat.

  Quinn: Well, I never! That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.

  Quinn: But if during all of these festivities you do happen to trip and fall on my penis, you won’t hear any complaints out of me.

  Emily: I’m going back to work now.

  Quinn: See you at the steak fry! I’ll be the one wearing the Quemily shirt. I got us matching ones! You didn’t tell me they were so sparkly.

  CHAPTER 19

  Quinn

  “Cut that shit out.”

  “Okay, I’m back!” Shepherd announces, handing me a red-and-white-striped box of popcorn and a bag of M&M’s as he sits down on the bench next to me.

  “Where the hell are my Skittles?” Bodhi complains from the other side of me, after Shepherd handed a soft pretzel back to Palmer and leaned around me to hand Bodhi a hot dog.

  Palmer reaches forward from his seat in the row behind us and smacks my hand when I start to give Bodhi my bag of chocolate.

  “Rule number one if you’re going to hang out with us: Don’t give Bodhi any sugar. It makes him crazy,” Palmer says, taking a big bite out of his pretzel and then leaning back in his seat.

  Bodhi and Palmer start to bicker back and forth, and I just lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees, enjoying the fresh-made popcorn and the view in front of me.

  After the best damn steak dinner of my life that included a baked potato, corn on the cob, and a whole crap-ton of baked goods from a new bakery that just opened on the island, now we’re sitting in the stands of the football field. I was here the night I was snooping on Emily while she was coaching, but it was after dark, and you couldn’t see the view. There really are a lot of perks to living on an island, and one of them is having your home stands face the ocean. The sun is setting, and everyone moved out here to watch the cheerleaders perform their new dance routine, and for the band to play a few songs, followed by the announcement of the winners of the raffle baskets, and then the grand total of how much money was raised tonight. I’m so used to doing the big, fancy charity events that are publicized. It’s nice to do something small like this, where I can relax with a bunch of good people who all pitch in to help each other out, because they want to and because they care. And that’s exactly what I said in my guest speech right before dinner—which got a standing ovation, thank you very much. And I’m also having a hell of a lot of fun hanging out with Emily’s friends while she’s busy, especially because she told me not to.

  “All right, before the cheerleaders get out here, spill the tea,” Shepherd says.

  “Yeah, give us the goods,” Palmer urges. “The girls won’t tell us anything now after the last time. But look how good that turned out!”

  I laugh, shoveling a handful of popcorn in my mouth, and then sit up a little straighter when I see Emily walk out onto the field down below with all the varsity cheerleaders, unable to wipe the smile off my face when I see her wearing my white home jersey with red and blue trim.

  “The first time I saw Wren wearing my name on her back, I completely
lost it, and we had sex in the back room at the Dip and Twist.” Shepherd chuckles. “Which reminds me, I need to help her close again one of these nights.”

  Emily, the little minx, not only successfully completed my dare, but she also made sure I would have to shield a stiff cock all evening, and not just because I seem to be having the same reaction as Shepherd, seeing the name Bagley big and bold printed across the back of her shoulders. She’s wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts that make me want to sink my teeth into her juicy ass, and then tied a knot into the jersey up above her belly button. So now I also have to wipe drool off my chin, appreciating all the hard work she put into those ab muscles, watching her walk around all night, dazzling everyone with her smile and charm. It makes me realize she definitely won this game.

  “Can I just say again that Tom Ford suit was an excellent choice for the charity event,” Shepherd adds.

  “Definitely looked like you two kids had a great time, and you always seem to be smiling and laughing when we see you together around the island, so what’s the deal?” Bodhi questions around a mouthful of chips.

  I refuse to think about how soul-crushing it was to hear her say we were back to playing pretend after what she gave me in that locker room last week. She stopped being the “perfect girlfriend,” and she was just real with me. She really wanted me, and she really trusted me, and she really made it impossible for me to make it through even one minute since that night without thinking about what it felt like to sink into her tight, wet heat, taking everything I had to give and begging for more.