Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“I’m not afraid to say it,” I murmur between our kisses. “I’ll say it over and over. I’ll tell everyone. I’ll tattoo it to my body, Quin, I’m falling for you.”
He stops just long enough to gaze into my eyes and say, “Then I’ll fall with you, so you’re never alone again,” and the greedy, playful waves take the rest of our words away as our lips sweetly entwine, like long-lost lovers at last reuniting.
Finale - Quintin
“Was it awkward, or was it fun?” I ask.
Adrian is on the beach towel next to me, shades on, skin slick and shiny from the sunscreen we applied to each other, in the skimpiest pair of swimming trunks known to man. Thankfully, we’re out on Sugarberry Beach, far away from the prying tourists’ eyes, just down the sand from his childhood house. I think his mother is in there trying her hand at making everyone dinner, with Skipper standing by to supervise in case of fire or unnatural disaster.
“What are you talking about?” asks Adrian.
“Dinner with my family yesterday.”
“Oh, right. Uh …” He tucks his hands behind his head, exposing his sexy pits to the sun. “Why do you ask?”
“It’s the first time I ever took a guy home for Sunday dinner.”
“Really? I was the first? Ever?”
“Pretty sure, yep.”
“Not even a high school boyfriend?”
“Nope.”
“Not even a date who wore a turtleneck? Or a stupid sweater vest?”
“I did date a guy who was obsessed with sweater vests, believe it or not. His name was E.J., though I can’t tell you what the E actually stood for. I think it was Elliot? And no, even he didn’t get the Sunday dinner treatment.”
Adrian nods slowly at that, appearing rather cocky. He leans back with a smirk. “Guess I’m just special, then.”
I pull out an ice-cold can from our cooler, then touch it to his exposed nipple. He jerks up with a yelp, recoiling from its icy kiss, then glares at me.
“Don’t let it go to your head,” I warn him with a grin, then crack open my can and take a sip.
He props himself up by an elbow and faces me. “You better be thankful you’re cute and I’m in love with you, because no one ices my nipples and gets away with it.”
“That’s great and all, but you still haven’t answered the question.”
A single eyebrow of his lifts above the shades. “Huh? What question?”
“Was it awkward? Or was it fun?”
I’m not imagining it.
I see him play with a few emotions on his face, even behind the obnoxious shades.
But in a flash, the struggle is gone, and his cockiness is back in full swing. “You’d better bet I had fun. Got to know your mom and dad pretty well. They’re nice people. Even got to meet your dad’s glass sea turtle collection.”
Now that surprises me. “Really? That’s a first.”
“And I do say ‘meet’ because he apparently names each and every one of them. My favorite is Jimothy,” he adds smartly, “because it looks a little bit like a Jim, and a little bit like a Timothy. I know better than to argue with your dad’s logic, of course.”
“Of course,” I agree, still wondering what made him hesitate in answering the question.
Did my dad give him the third degree? Did he pin him to a wall and demand to know his intentions with me? Ever since my dad and I reconciled, he’s suddenly revived all of his worst protective instincts, treating the whole world like it’s out to get me. After learning how Professor Lawrence had treated me earlier in the summer, he even had half a mind to go up to the school and give the man some words. I talked him out of it. It was a genuine close call.
But I didn’t see any of that tension during dinner. I just saw my parents smiling more than usual, I saw Adrian being a perfect gentleman, and I felt completely at peace.
Now I’ve got this nagging unanswered question in the back of my restless mind.
Even if Adrian did just answer it. The way he answered only gives birth to more questions.
Something isn’t adding up.
An hour later, we’re called in to eat. The jury is still out on whether Eden actually made the meal we’re about to enjoy, or if Skipper was secretly sent down the street to fetch something fresh from Desert Moon or one of the neighboring diners. But gathering around a tiny table with Eden, Adrian, his brothers Skipper and Kent, and Kent’s boyfriend Jonah, I feel like I just found myself a whole new second family.
This is way, way more than what I was hoping to gain on a simple trip to Dreamwood Isle to clear my mind and find my inspiration.
I didn’t expect to find a new life.
The best part is, I didn’t have to let go of my old one, either. At least not completely. The summer program ends in another couple of weeks, and then I’ll have some time before fall semester starts, where I’ll reunite with all of my art school friends. As for the lovely loft, I moved out last weekend. Alice got her girlfriend Patty to take over my part of the rent, moving in at the same time I moved out, so even my roommates have a happy outcome. Isn’t that lovely? Patty isn’t an art student by any means, but she definitely seems to have a sick fascination with every clay and ceramic sculpture Alice creates with her skillful hands. They’re just perfect together, and I’m happy they can now take over the loft and have all the loud, noisy sex they want. Sorry, Jacque and Hernando—and good luck!