On Paper

by Shae Scott

I gaped at her and she tilted her head feigning apology, like she was about to deliver bad news.

  "Oh, you don't know," she said, her hand flying to her chest in mock concern.

  "I'm perfectly aware of the reputation that you are alluding to. I just don’t understand why you feel the need to bring it up to me," I said coolly. I don't know why her words were grating against my nerves so badly, but the way she was talking about Keaton made me angry. Maybe he could be an asshole and yes, he probably hadn’t always been so nice to his many conquests, but I was pretty sure he'd always been honest about who he was and what he was looking for.

  I didn't like the way this woman was talking about him. It made my skin prickle and I was really annoyed that my glass was empty, preventing me from tossing my drink across her pretty dress.

  "I see," she smiled, sugar falling from her lips. "Well, you seem like a smart girl. I'm sure you know better than to hand a man like that your heart. He's a great story to have, but he's not in it for anything more than a good time," she said.

  "You know, what I think? I think you are a sad woman who was obviously willing to jump into the sack with him no questions asked. I think that says as much about you as it does about him. I’m also quite certain he didn’t lead you on by painting you some fairytale ending, but maybe you did that all on your own. Then, when it didn’t work out you became this bitter version of yourself and the only way to deal with the fact that you can’t have the one thing you want, which let’s face it…is that fine piece of ass, is to tear me down and make me feel just as miserable as you do. But you should probably take your stones and go somewhere else. Because I actually know a little more about the man you so shamelessly label an asshole and just because he may not have given you the time of day, doesn't make him any less than extraordinary. He's a good man and I'm not going to stand here and let you bash him under the guise of giving me some girl code warning. I don't need your warning. And I don't need to hear you say another word about my date," I said. I felt the heat rushing to the surface of my skin, my lips set in a firm line. I almost hoped she'd push me a little further, because it really felt good to lay into her.

  I should keep my cool. I didn't want to draw any attention to our encounter, but shit, she’d pissed me off. I wondered if Keaton had slept with her. Of course he had and that was why she was so bitter. I could see where it would be hard to have him once and then never again. I knew my own hunger for him and how it had only grown over the past week. But it pissed me off to see how she treated him like a ride in an amusement park.

  I watched her give me a once over and then walk away with a huff and I finally released the breath I'd been holding.

  "That was the sexiest thing I have ever witnessed." The warm silky voice tickled the back of my neck and I felt the shiver flutter beneath my skin. I turned to see Keaton smiling a dazzling smile as he returned with a new champagne flute.

  "I don't like her. I hope that you didn't really sleep with her, but if you did, I hope you were having an off night," I grumbled.

  He laughed, deep and loud, throwing his head back. The sight melted the frost that she'd left behind and I couldn't help but laugh with him.

  "Oh my God, Quinn, you are something else," he smiled. He took my empty glass, trading it with the new one, and set it on a nearby table. Then, he turned back to me, his eyes turning serious. He took a step closer, removing all of the space between us. My breath caught as he dipped his head so that it was inches from my own. "Thank you," he said so softly that I could feel his breath on my cheek.

  "For what?" I asked quietly.

  "For sticking up for me. It . . . meant something to me," he said.

  I felt it then, that pull to touch him, that feeling of falling into something so deep that it threatens to consume you.

  "Sure," I managed, the word getting stuck in my throat from the instant intensity that had fallen around us.

  "I mean it, Quinn. That was sexy as shit, but it was more. I felt it here." He took my hand and pressed it to his chest. I could feel his heart; it pounded against my palm in quick steady beats.

  I swallowed hard; sure he could hear my own heart at this point as it thudded in my chest, trying to match the beat of his. Thump thumpthump, Thump thumpthump.

  "You're welcome," I finally managed, my voice only a whisper. His lips brushed softly against my own, it wasn't a kiss, just a brush of soft skin that made me yearn for something more.

  "Let's dance, beautiful," he said. I took a sip of my drink, put it on the table and let him lead me onto the dance floor.

  I barely even heard the music, just that it was slow. Keaton pulled me into him, one hand wrapped around my own as he held it to his chest, his other pulling me in at my waist so that our bodies were connected. I looked up to him, his eyes dancing as he looked down at me. I was lost in him. It should have scared me, and if I’d given myself permission to think about any of it even a moment it would have. But I refused. I couldn’t let logic in, not today. Not now. I was living in somebody else's shoes. In a sense I was Cinderella at the ball and I would worry about the ticking clock later.

  I COULDN'T HELP the sense of melancholy that seemed to descend as we made it back to the room. Goodbye hung in the air all around us, waiting to be acknowledged. So far, we'd both refused. I didn't want to ruin our last night together. I didn't want to end on a sad note. I didn't want him to think that I was the girl who was going to try and cling to him when this was over. No matter that part of me wanted to. Desperately.

  I tried to push that part away. I worked to lock her away in a box where she belonged. This had been my adventure, my chance to live outside of my comfort zone, to leave the safe side behind and do what I wanted without fear of consequences. I had made the rules and I was ready to stick to them. For one more night I would be the girl who lived for today. For one more night I would pretend there was no tomorrow and believe that my heart wouldn't rebel on me as soon as the sun came up in the morning.

  I kicked off my shoes and placed them near Keaton's suitcase. I turned back to him and gave him a small smile. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his slacks. He was staring at me with a half smile, half frown. How does a person even pull that off? How did he do it and still look so sexy?

  "Come over here," he said, his voice raspy and low. I moved towards him until I was close enough to touch. He put his hands on my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh possessively.

  "I'm glad you made me go tonight. It was nice, being dressed up with you, dancing with you, showing you off," he said.

  "I had fun," I smiled up at him. His eyes, focused on my own, pulling me in.

  "It's our last night," he said quietly. I gulped, swallowing his words and trying not to choke on the bitter taste they left in their wake. There was something so final about them and it sent my heart racing and my stomach plummeting.

  'Yeah," I squeaked.

  "I'm not ready," he said. I sucked in a breath, not sure how to respond to his admission. So I didn't. I stared down at his shoes.

  I felt his warm fingers on my chin as he tilted my face up to meet his gaze.

  "Tell me, how do I walk away from you tomorrow and pretend that none of this happened?" he asked, pulling me close to him.

  "Don’t pretend. Don’t forget. I want you to remember me. I don’t think I could take it if you pretended that it didn’t happen," I admitted. That was so close to the truth that I feared he would see right through me and call me out on all of the feelings I was desperately trying to hold back.

  He ran his fingers across my cheek as his eyes swept across my face. It left a shiver just beneath the surface of my skin. "Maybe I'm afraid that if I don't forget I'll never let you walk away," he admitted. The huskiness in his voice made my stomach flip. I felt the same way, but I couldn’t say it. Walking away from this feeling may be the logical thing to do, but it was still going to be harder than I'd imagined.

  I gave him my best smile, the one meant to convince him that I
was carefree and still totally on board with this whole charade. "This way it stays perfect. We don't have any of the bad parts to tarnish it. It gets to stay untouched and perfect."

  "Except for the goodbye part. The part where I watch you walk away, that still sucks."

  "Then we won't say goodbye. We’ll just drift or something,” I shrugged.

  "How romantic," he scoffed.

  "Just remember me, okay?" I said softly. If I could only ask for one thing that would be it. I didn't want to be the only one walking away from this with memories.

  He smiled, but his eyes held a seriousness that had me holding my breath. “I won’t forget you. I promise.”

  I smiled up at him, feeling relieved as he leaned in kissing my nose. Knowing that we would both take this experience away with us with positive feelings made it worth it to me.

  “We still have tonight. If I have to give you up tomorrow, I plan on making every moment that I have left count,” he warned.

  “I was hoping you’d say that,” I smiled. I pushed back the lump that had settled in my throat.

  “Let’s start by taking off that dress.”

  I TOOK A deep breath, pulling the door closed with a distinct click; the sound cutting into my heart, essentially locking me out of my beautiful, temporary, make-believe life once and for all. I did it quickly, before I could change my mind.

  I didn't want to think about him on the other side or what he would think when he came out of the bathroom and realized that I had left without saying goodbye. When he realized that I was a coward.

  It was better this way.

  Laying with him this morning, limbs tangled with his and feeling his fingers twisting lazily through my hair I had known there was no other choice. I had known I’d never make it through this morning without tears. I had panicked. I didn't want him to see me cry when I walked away. Ours wasn't the kind of love affair that came with tears. I wouldn't leave him with that image. Not after I’d promised him easy and casual. I didn't want his memories of me ruined by letting him see that I'd fallen for him without permission.

  I had been right; I wasn't cut out for this kind of casual relationship. I fell too easily and if I stayed for the obligatory goodbye he would have seen straight through me. He would have seen the truth and he would have pitied me. It would have ruined this whole week.

  This was Keaton Harris. He didn't fall in love. He didn't ask for tomorrows and he didn't latch on after a few silly days with a stranger. This was the smart choice. Honestly, he'd probably appreciate it. No awkward hug, no empty promises. It would just be easier this way.

  I’d had every intention for this to last one week and be done. I’d had every intention to soak up the experience and then file it away as an amazing memory. And I'd done my best to convince both of us that I meant it, but these past couple of days had changed everything. He’d changed everything.

  I opened the door to my room and jumped when I saw Lily and Miles in an awkward embrace on the couch. Well, awkward for me. They seemed to be getting along just fine.

  'Oh, sorry, Quinn. I didn't think you'd be back so soon." Lily was out of breath and I felt bad for having interrupted them.

  "I needed to finish packing a few things, and we should think about getting to the airport," I shrugged. I avoided looking their way as I moved past the couch where they were still sitting tangled together.

  I walked through the room making sure I had everything I needed. I threw my suitcase on the bed; unzipping it and throwing in the few things that I still had lying around.

  "Where's Keaton?" Lily asked untangling herself from Miles and coming over to me.

  "He was taking a shower. We've said our goodbyes," I said. She caught my gaze and I knew that she saw it then, the way I was holding it all together and trying not to break. I couldn't. Not here and definitely not with Miles in the room.

  "Okay. Well, it is getting late. We're going to have to scramble if we’re going to make our flight," she said matter-of-factly. I smiled, grateful. Our flight was still hours away, but she knew me well enough to know that I needed to get out of here.

  Lily turned to Miles and spoke quietly. I moved to the bathroom to give it the once over and to give them some privacy. I hated to cut their time short, but I was still a little afraid that Keaton would come find me when he found my note. Maybe I hoped he would. But that kind of hope was dangerous.

  When I came back out, Miles was stacking Lily's bags by the door. "You're already packed?" I asked surprised.

  "Yep. I didn't sleep much last night. Miles helped," she shrugged.

  "Helped you pack?” I teased.

  "That too," she smiled. She reached out and gave my hand a knowing squeeze. "You ready?"

  I zipped my suitcase and nodded.

  Miles walked us down to the lobby. He seemed like such a nice guy. I wondered if Lily would keep in touch with him.

  "You have your tickets?" he asked her as she searched her purse. She gave him a big smile as she found them. The cab pulled up and the driver jumped out to put our suitcases in the trunk. I gave Miles a hug before I climbed inside and let Lily have a private moment. She kissed him softly and then nodded when he said he'd call her. I hoped he did.

  A mix of relief and dread settled over me when she climbed in beside me and then slammed the door shut. As the cab pulled away from the curb I let go of the breath that I'd been holding onto.

  "You didn't say goodbye did you?" she asked softly.

  I shook my head and felt the tears prick my eyes. "I couldn't. I didn't want him to see," I started.

  "See what?" she asked softly. I shook my head, closing my eyes against the wave of emotions that were burning in my chest. I didn’t even want to admit it to her, how I’d let myself become attached. How I’d broken my own rules.

  "It's nothing. I just didn't want to go through an awkward goodbye. It is what it is, we knew the deal. We didn't need some big dramatic exit," I said.

  Lily sighed beside me, but she didn't push me anymore. She took my hand in hers and gave it a squeeze and didn't say a word when the tear slid down my cheek as I turned and stared out the window.

  I LET THE hot water run over me, releasing the tightness in my muscles. Muscles that I had been working in the best way possible. Just the memories of Quinn and our time together had my body feeling hot and I’d only left her in my bed fifteen minutes ago.

  I hated today. I hated it. I hated that I hated it. I hated that I was even giving it a second thought. I'd let myself get wrapped up in this girl. I'd only known her for a week and here I was dreading the fact that she was leaving.

  The idea of walking away from her felt wrong, but the idea of asking her to stay in my life made no sense at all. It left me feeling chaotic. She was a stranger. The truth of the whole thing was that I had known her for a week. So why did it feel like I really knew her? Why did it feel like she really saw me? It was all very new to me. I hadn’t been in this position in a long time. Maybe ever. I didn’t even know what to call it.

  I just knew I didn't want to walk away from this and not see her again. I didn't exactly know what I did want, but pretending like this week hadn't happened or trying to fit it into some convenient, temporary box didn't appeal to me at all. If I was being honest, it was hard to believe that Quinn did.

  And there was my roadblock, the thing that had me stumbling. What if she really did want to leave it all behind? What if I really was just her walk on the wild side? What if she had no interest in exploring anything else and I went in all guns blazing and making a fool out of myself? I didn't want that. I'm not a fool.

  I had no idea how to approach it. She was dead set on convincing me that she was one hundred percent on board with this one week plan. She wasn’t going to give in easily. I just needed to get a read on her. If I could get her to talk to me at breakfast then maybe I could tell what was really going on in her head. If she seemed up for it then I could suggest we keep in touch. There was nothing wrong with that. It’s
not like I was asking for a commitment. I just wanted to keep talking to her.

  If she didn't seem into it then I'd stay quiet and forget about her.

  Right?

  It sounded like a good plan. I felt good about it.

  I turned the water off and grabbed the large fluffy towel from the door. I ran it across my skin, soaking up droplets of water, all the while playing out potential conversations in my head. Lucky for me each one ended just as I wanted. I took the towel and wiped the fog from the glass. The guy staring back at me was new. There were questions in his eyes. It wasn't something I was used to

  I hated today.

  The nerves were new too. Quinn had made me nervous from day one. I liked it. I liked her. A lot. The silent admission made me smile.

  Wrapping the towel around me I headed out of the bathroom. "You should have joined me," I called out towards the living room when I realized she wasn't still in bed. I took in the rumpled sheets and felt a stir of desire as I remembered the previous evening. I loved the way she felt beneath me, the way her fingers would dig into my flesh as I sunk into her. I wasn't sure I'd ever get my fill of her. In fact, I was starting to think breakfast would have to wait. I wanted to find her and drag her back into the bedroom.

  "Quinn?" I called, shuffling out of my room and into the main suite. It was empty. I glanced over to the balcony to see if she was taking in the view. I frowned when she wasn't there either. I turned in a full circle, as if she might be hiding somewhere in a corner. Nothing. I walked over to the room Miles had been using, then the main bathroom. She wasn't here. I felt a sinking feeling, an uncomfortable realization starting to unfold.

  No, maybe she had just run to her room for a second. I pushed aside the chick thoughts, chastising myself. I moved to the tiny kitchenette, intent on grabbing a water before getting dressed. As I crossed the room I noticed a single piece of paper on the counter. I slowed my step as I neared it. The sinking feeling returned. I didn't have to read it. I already knew what it would say. She was gone.