by Tara Sivec
I’m so lost in my thoughts as I rush forward so I can get this over with as quickly as possible, that when a big, heavy hand wraps around my arm, my instincts pick up the slack my brain can’t handle. I’m immediately whirling around, bringing my fist up with me as I go, my knuckles slamming right into a solid brick wall.
“Son of a bitch!” I shout, shaking out my hand and then hugging it to my chest, the throbbing pain making me bite down on my bottom lip.
“Jesus Christ, that hurt!” Quinn pants, rubbing the spot on his chest my fist slammed into, the sound of his voice and the sight of him standing right in front of me making my heart flutter. “Remind me to send a big donation to whoever taught you self-defense. Worth every goddamn penny.”
Laughter bubbles up in my throat, but I quickly swallow it back when Quinn drops his hand from his chest to step right up into my personal space. Grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand away from my chest, he studies my knuckles and gently runs his fingertips over the top of them.
“You need ice, right now.”
I tug my wrist out of his hold, since him touching any part of me at this moment is going to make me crumble. Something that looks like pain flashes across his face when I take a few steps back and put some much-needed distance between us, but it’s gone in a flash with my next words.
“I’m fine,” I say with a tight smile, my hand freaking throbbing as I lower my arm to my side.
“Stop,” Quinn orders.
He says that one word in the same, pissed-off tone he did last night when I tried to explain to him about the job offer, and it hurts just as badly.
“Stop saying you’re fine when you’re not. Stop being a cheerleader when you don’t have to be. You’ve been crying. You’re still fucking crying, and it’s because of me, and that’s not fucking fine!” Quinn growls, my hands pausing from swiping at my tears, more than a little shocked that his anger is because of them and not because I messed up his life.
All of a sudden, he’s in my personal space again in the blink of an eye, this time crowding me backward until I bump into the wall next to the elevator. He stops a foot away from me, his hands coming up and brushing mine out of the way so he can cup my face in his palms.
“I put those tears there,” he says gruffly, swiping the wetness on my cheeks with his thumbs. “At least let me wipe them away.”
My breath hitches, and more tears fall when Quinn drops his forehead to mine with a groan. I should be pushing him away, telling him this isn’t necessary, and apologizing for the pain I’ve caused him, but I can’t move now that he’s touching me again, and I can’t think straight now that he’s standing so close.
“I’m sorry. I’m so goddamn sorry, Emily,” Quinn whispers brokenly, making me wonder what the hell is going on and if he was even paying attention to the nightmare I turned his life into last night. “Three fucking seconds, and I would take them back in a heartbeat if I could.”
His words continue to confuse me, and I shake my head in his hands, pulling it back just enough to look at him. My stomach flops when I see nothing but complete devastation on Quinn’s face as he looks at me, still holding my face in his hands.
“Please tell me I didn’t fuck everything up with you,” he begs, his gravelly voice filled with so much pain that my hands quickly come up to grab onto the material of his shirt at his sides before my knees give out.
“What are you talking about?” I ask. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the job, and I’m sorry your life is a mess again because of me, and I’m sorry I didn’t—”
Quinn’s mouth is on mine before I can finish my apology, swallowing the sob that flies out of me as soon as I feel his lips against mine, breathing life back into me in the blink of an eye. I want to tug him against me and let him warm all the cold parts that have been miserable without him for the last twelve hours, but my head is spinning, and Quinn’s tongue gently swirling through my mouth doesn’t help things or make me think any clearer.
Pulling back from the kiss, Quinn groans in frustration, and I just shake my head at him.
“I don’t understand what is happening right now,” I whisper.
“You’re not letting me kiss you properly—that’s what’s happening right now,” he informs me, his thumbs still brushing back and forth against my cheeks.
“Be serious. Why aren’t you mad at me right now?”
Quinn curses under his breath, bending his knees a little bit so his eyes are even with mine. “I am seriously disgusted with myself that I let you think for even one second that I was ever mad at you,” he tells me. “I was mad at Tyler, and I was mad at the situation, but never you. Never you. I’m so fucking sorry I made you cry. I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry you were nervous to tell me about the job. I’m so proud of you, baby. So goddamn proud of you I can’t even handle it.”
A whimper comes out of me, and Quinn quiets me with another soft kiss, whispering apologies over and over against my lips, before he pulls back again.
“I fucked up, and I said all the wrong things, and I did all the wrong things, and I’m so sorry. You scare the hell out of me too, Emily,” he says quietly, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’m scared I’m going to screw everything up, and I’m scared you’re going to realize I’m not worth all the headaches, and the bullshit that comes with my job, and I’m…”
Quinn pauses and lets out a slow breath, licking his lips and swallowing nervously before he continues.
“I’m scared to death that I am so fucking in love with you I can’t see straight, and you might not feel the same way.”
The breath I was holding leaves me with a whoosh, and my heart beats so fast it feels like I just got finished running my five-mile circuit around the island.
“What?” I ask on a shaky, uncertain breath, wondering for a minute if I actually cried myself to sleep in the wee hours of the morning and I’m really dreaming.
One of Quinn’s hands drops from my cheek to wrap around my waist, tugging me closer as he dips his head down to press his cheek against mine, whispering in my ear. “I love you. I can’t shine without you.” He tightens his arm around me as he continues, like he’s afraid if he loosens up even the tiniest bit on his hold, I’m going to disappear. “And if you ever spend the night away from me again and don’t tell me where you are, I cannot be held responsible for my actions—which may or may not include jail time for fighting all your friends—if this shit happens again.”
Laughter shakes my body, even as tears fall from my eyes, and Quinn kisses them right off my cheeks.
“Oh good, you fixed it.”
The sound of Jeanie’s voice makes both of us quickly move apart, but Quinn refuses to move too far away, grabbing onto one of my hands and lacing his fingers through mine as we turn and face the woman standing in the opening of the hallway.
“I wasn’t sure if this was the type of fixing you meant on the phone last night.” Quinn shrugs. “No disrespect, ma’am, but I didn’t really care.”
Jeanie laughs. “Don’t worry; this is exactly how I was hoping you’d fix it,” she says, the second person to shock the hell out of me this morning.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you from the beginning, the day you initially called me and asked me if I fixed things,” Quinn tells her, giving my hand a squeeze.
“No need to apologize, Mr. Bagley.” Jeanie waves him away with her hand. “I knew you two weren’t really dating when you met me for lunch. Although I did quite enjoy the show.”
Quinn and I both look at each other with our mouths dropped open in shock before looking back at Jeanie. We find her still smiling at us with amusement—instead of chewing us out for the media shitstorm we’ve created.
“To be completely honest, you had me fooled… right until I asked you what drew you to Emily when you first fell in love with her.”
“What gave it away?” Quinn asks in confusion, making me wonder right along with him.
He mi
ght not have been in love with me at that time, but I still want to melt into a puddle on the floor thinking about the things he said about me that day and just how convincing he was.
Because he was telling the truth, you dummy!
“The complete look of shock on Emily’s face when you listed all the things you love about her,” Jeanie says. “You wear your heart on your sleeve, Mr. Bagley. One of the many reasons I hired you. I found it very hard to believe that after you’d supposedly been dating for five months, you wouldn’t have told her many, many times by that point just how much you adore her and why.”
I can’t help but laugh, knowing she’s right. Quinn is not shy talking about how he feels, and the three words he said to me, then whispered again in my ear right before Jeanie interrupted us, make butterflies start flapping around in my stomach, wishing we were alone again so I could say them right back.
“Ms. Flanagan, I hope you wanting to meet with me this morning means you’ve come to discuss the job offer. One I’m very sorry was unintentionally leaked by someone on my staff,” Jeanie says, folding her hands down in front of her, making the butterflies flap around even harder, and Quinn grips my hand even tighter in his. “You earned this job, with or without Mr. Bagley. And you would have been offered this job with or without him as well.”
With that, Jeanie turns and heads back down the hall, telling me she’ll give us a few minutes alone and I can meet her in her office when I’m ready. As soon as the clicking of her heels fades away, I turn to look at Quinn to find him staring at me with a huge smile on his face.
“I don’t need the job. It was never about the job.”
“I know.” Quinn quickly nods, still smiling at me, bringing our joined hands up to his mouth to kiss the top of mine.
“I love you too,” I whisper, my voice shaking when I say the words.
“Thank fucking Christ,” he breathes, turning to face me, bringing our hands up to press mine against his chest, right over his rapidly beating heart. “Come on, you know you want it all. The dream guy and the dream job.”
With a laugh, I shake my head at him. “Pretty full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“There’s my little fireball,” Quinn whispers softly before continuing. “Just hopeful. Always fucking hopeful where you’re concerned.” He sighs with a smile, cocking his head as he rubs his thumb back and forth over the top of my hand still held against his chest. “I can’t be the only shining star in this relationship, Emily. It’s way too much pressure. I can barely fit my ego through the door as it is. You’re supposed to be bringing me down a peg or two, remember?”
My loud groan is cut off with a squeal when Quinn wraps both of his arms around me, lifting me off my feet. Hugging my body tightly up against his with my arms draped over his shoulders, he buries his face into the side of my neck, tickling me with his nuzzling nose and scratchy facial hair. I giggle and squirm in his arms as he kisses his way up to my ear, saying those three little words that make my heart skip a beat and a thrill of anticipation rush through me.
“I dare you.”
CHAPTER 27
Emily
“Van Der Beek better not pull any shit this time.”
One week later
“Last night’s press conference with Quinn Bagley, the first one he’s given since rumors of his relationship with Emily Flanagan started swirling seven months ago, combined with online forums blowing up in recent weeks about their relationship all being pretend, definitely got fans back on his side and finally put the rumors to rest that anything with the former professional cheerleader is fake.
With Flanagan right by his side and his hand wrapped tightly around hers, Bagley apologized to fans for any deceit saying, ‘I’m kind of annoying. I had to do whatever I could to get this woman to spend time with me. She’s a little stubborn, but it didn’t take too long before she fell madly in love with me.’ This response from Bagley was met with a roar of laughter from the crowd and a good-natured smack on the arm from Flanagan.
Spending the final few minutes discussing the upcoming season with the Sharks and how much work the entire team will be putting in this summer, the press conference has Virginia fans chomping at the bit for the first preseason game in August. The star quarterback finished up by proceeding to make everyone hoot and holler when he pulled his cheerleader into his arms and laid a kiss on her that made even this seasoned reporter blush.
We see nothing but great things ahead for the Virginia Beach Sharks, with Bagley leading the way.”
Two weeks later
Quinn: Which one do you like better for tonight? The blue or the yellow? *photo attachment*
Emily: Please tell me this is a joke.
Quinn: One does not joke about a cat backpack for Crouton that has a little bubble window for him to see all the adventures we’ll go on together.
Emily: You are not taking Crouton with us to the Jimmy Buffett concert at Dockside Eddy’s
Quinn: I already told him about the concert, and we’ve been practicing “Margaritaville.” His pitch is a little off, but we’ll get it together by tonight.
Emily: I’m going to pretend like I don’t know you.
Quinn: Well, now I’m definitely wearing my Quemily shirt. Good luck with that.
Three weeks later
Quinn: Count to fifty after I leave and then meet me in my old bedroom.
Emily: We are not sneaking away again at your parents’ house for a blowjob in the bedroom. That was a one-time thing. I still see James Van Der Beek’s haunting eyes following me wherever I go.
Emily: And don’t you even think about daring me! Your mom is not going to be on the phone with your aunt THAT long.
Quinn: It’s cute you still think I’ll be able to last more than a minute when your mouth is on my dick.
Emily: Your dad is also going to be right back. He just went to fix that leaky faucet in the laundry room.
Quinn: It’s also cute you think my dad isn’t going to take an hour to find the right tool he needs, another hour to yell and curse because “Nothing in this goddamn house was built right,” followed by another hour calling around for a plumber.
Emily: No. And you can stop giving me those puppy dog eyes from over there on the loveseat.
Quinn: How about, instead of a blowjob, I lift up your skirt, push that purple lace thong to the side I watched you put on earlier, and use my mouth and tongue on you just the way you like?
Emily: Count to twenty, and meet me in your old bedroom. Van Der Beek better not pull any shit this time.
Palmer: Hey! Any chance you guys still have those extra keys to the 8th hole maintenance shed?
Quinn: Oh yeah, sorry! I forgot to give them back. Did you lose yours or something?
Palmer: Sure. We’ll go with that.
Birdie: We’re stuck in the goddamn shed! The little button you turn to lock the door on the handle inside broke off. Hurry up!
Emily: Have fun with that, Quinn! I’m at work, and it’s your day off. Plug your nose. It’s gonna smell like golf cum in there.
Birdie: Oh, fuck right off!
Palmer: LOL it totally does! Wait, what does golf cum smell like?
Quinn: Don’t ask. I’ll be there in five minutes. Crouton wanted to go for a ride in his backpack anyway.
Four weeks later
Quinn: Have I told you how fucking stunning you look tonight?
Emily: Several times. But I’m always up for more compliments.
Quinn: I love it when you’re agreeable. I dare you to take your panties off.
Emily: Don’t say “panties” ever again. It’s skeevy. Also, you’re sitting right next to me at this Football Hall of Fame dinner. You know you could just lean over and say these things to me instead of texting them, right?
Quinn: Where’s the fun in that? These speeches are boring, and we’ve never had phone sex.
Emily: And we’re not going to start now, when the Sharks’s GM is across the table, your new agent is on the other
side of you, and an ESPN reporter is on the other side of ME.
Quinn: I dare you.
Emily: Fun fact: I’m not wearing anything under this dress. Which is causing a problem, because I’ve been wet ever since you walked out of the bedroom of the hotel in that tux. I’m throbbing for you, Quinn. No one will know if I just slip my hand under my skirt under this table and fuck myself with my fingers. Can you feel how tight and wet I am for you, baby? I think it’s time to lose the condoms. I need to feel every inch of you inside me, hot and hard, stretching me with that big cock, driving into my pussy, and filling me with your cum.
Quinn: Jesus Christ.
Quinn: Holy shit.
Quinn: I have made a grave mistake, and now everyone is looking at me.
Emily: The loud moan right when the room got quiet probably wasn’t your best moment. Honestly, man, when will you learn? Don’t mess with the dare queen.
Five weeks later
Emily: What time will you be finished with work tonight?
Quinn: I should be out of here around 5. What about you?
Emily: For once, same! Want to meet at that Italian place a few blocks from the stadium, or do you want to just eat here on the island when you get back?
Quinn: I could go for some tots at the diner. I’ll just pick you up at your cottage around 5:30. NO ARGUMENTS, EMILY!
Emily: The only argument I was going to make is… keep your hands off my goddamn tots this time. Order your own. See you when you get here. Don’t work too hard.
Emily: OMG, have you looked at social media yet, or are you still watching films?
Quinn: Just got done and heading to the locker room. Which means I’m now going to have an instant boner when I walk in there, just like every damn time. Fucking you against that wall was the best idea and the worst idea at the same time.
Emily: I need you to focus here. Tell me you saw the article about Ellen Westwood and Tyler?
