Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 79183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
I shrug. “Didn’t seem like it tonight.”
“He was wasted. Trust me when I say all will go back to rights in the morning when he sees me.”
I frown. “Are you guys, were you guys like…” I don’t even really know how to ask it or say it, but it’s a suspicious thought I can’t let go of.
Quinn throws his head back and laughs. “Ah, wouldn’t that be the best situation? A horrible breakup between the best friend I fell in love with and me. Nah, I mean, yeah, no, I’m not gonna talk about it anymore. Some secrets die with you, but there has never been a moment in that guy’s life where he’s ever seen me as anything but his best friend or enemy. Trust me on that.”
“And what about you?” I ask, kicking a cup, then picking it up.
Quinn freezes; his hand hovers over the red solo cup before he picks it up and tosses it in the trash bag. “Hmm, jury’s still out on that, never really did the whole let me explore my sexuality thing in an intense way, but I will agree that it’s important to see people as people. I haven’t thought about it in two years.”
“Did you ever…” I swallow. “You know, like, experiment—“
“—Ah, story time is officially over. Thanks for coming. You can see your way out.” Quinn tosses a cup at my face; it’s empty, it makes me laugh. “You’re really pretty, by the way, just in case you don’t get told that enough. I felt like you should know.
My breath hitches. I don’t know what to say. Quinn raises his hand, it’s trembling, and then it’s pushing my hair away.
He looks pretty in the moonlight.
His hand drops. “Do you sometimes think that history repeats itself? Over and over again until you solve what went wrong?”
I swallow, lick my lips, and then have nothing to give him, no answer because I’ve wondered the same thing for so long. Are we just in a constant repeat motion? Will I always want Ambrose? Will I always fall for him even though I know better?
I shake my head. “I wish I knew.”
Quinn nods then. “Same. Same.”
“We should, uh…” I look away. “…go inside.”
“Did you though?” he asks as I start walking away. “With him?”
I don’t answer.
But it’s answer enough.
Chapter Twenty
Ambrose
“Kill me,” I moan. “Kill me now. Put me out of my misery. Make it end. Whyyyyyyyyyyyy.” I can barely move as I reach for the bottle of water on my nightstand and the Advil.
It feels like someone took a sledgehammer to my skull on both sides, both temples, and refuses to stop jamming it in.
I’m such an idiot.
Oh God, I puked in the bushes.
I vaguely remember Quinn taking me to my room and telling me to sober up and stop being an asshole, typical Quinn, but that’s it.
Is Mary-Belle okay?
Did people just leave?
There was running. I definitely remember running.
“Fuck!” I jolt up, my head pounding. Didn’t someone yell cops? Am I getting arrested? Shit! I’m dead, so dead if cops came to my house and I’m passed out, am I able to say someone just like, drugged me, and I didn’t know what was happening.
I moan into my hands.
“Sleeping Beauty.” Quinn’s raspy voice just randomly appears out of nowhere.
I look around my room—it’s still dark, so clearly not fully time to wake up yet, time to be sleeping and suffering in silence from being the drunk dumbass.
“Down here,” he says.
He’s lying on my floor, not in a guest room, wearing no shirt; he’s on his side. “You.”
“Me.” He goes to his back and puts his hands behind his head. “Honestly, I was going to gloat but felt like it was too soon. At any rate, everything’s cleaned up, Mary-Belle crashed a few hours ago, I’ve been here sleeping slash listening to you moan while thrashing around your bed like you were going to puke again, and I left the trash can just in case. Nobody wants to wake up to someone puking on them because they can’t make it in time. Also, bonus, super embarrassing, and my phone’s fully charged, so I would take a picture of that shit and post it, not even gonna be sly about it.”
“Fuck.” It’s all I can say as I lay there. “How is this? You know what, I’m in too much pain to even ask—but she’s okay?”
“She’s okay.”
“Did you guys… hang out?”
“Seriously?” He sits up. “That’s what you ask me? If we hung out? What do you want to know if we held hands, if I kissed her, if I fucked her in your backyard? Damn, bro, just take a break. I’m not trying to do anything other than be a non-shitty human being. Is she pretty?” I gulp and wait for his answer. “Yes.” He sighs and lays back down. “Do I want to kiss her?” He’s silent for a few seconds. “Every time I see her.” His voice lowers. “Would I go there again? Knowing what I know now? No. I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t dare, so tuck your dick back into your pants and get some sleep.”