Chapter 4

chapter four

Quinn

The second I close the door, I know I'm all in. I'd never admit it but this was the plan anyway. Get my mind off the boy I left behind in Florida. The boy that I thought I'd die and be buried next to.

Dramatic I know, but that's how it felt.

Until it didn't.

Until he didn't.

That was the thing, Grayson Collins didn't know how to love like I wanted him to. The only thing he ever really loved was himself.

I shake all thoughts of Grayson from my mind and snap myself back to the present.

And the present is hot. So fucking hot.

He must sense the way I'm feeling because, without another word, he grabs the hem of my dress and pulls it over my head in one fell swoop. He doesn't exactly hesitate but his eyes trail my body quickly.

"You, just…"

I silence his rambling by capturing his lips with mine, jerking his v-neck t-shirt over his head.

"Anyone else in here?" He asks, noting the bag and the things on the dresser.

"No, that's my stuff. My sister is across the hall."

He nods, slipping his shorts down. My eyes lock in on his gray boxer briefs, and the long outline of his dick.

Even more adrenaline courses through me, more want, if that's possible. I lean into his body and his lips fall to my neck, causing goosebumps to consume me.

The way his tongue massages my skin is nearly tantalizing. I want him. I don't care if it's just for one night, one time. That's why I didn't tell him my real name. It's better this way. Plus, it's not like I'll ever see him again.

His hands move from my hair down my back and in under two seconds my bra is unfastened and on the floor. This guy knows exactly what he's doing.

I freeze, realizing that I am completely out of my element.

I do not hook up. I don't drink. I don't even run yellow lights. In fact, this whole spur of the moment "Quinn goes crazy" thing that I'm doing isn't something I'm used to.

"Is this okay?" He breathes, his lips just barely touching my ear. "We can stop."

"Shut up," I demand, pushing him off of me and down onto the bed. Capturing his lips with mine, I take control, but he is gentle. Nothing like the smugness I anticipated would shine at a moment like this.

The way his thumb grazes back and forth against the skin on my hip is slow and sensual. Not anything like when Grayson and I would fool around.

That always felt rushed.

Thinking back, I couldn't remember a time that wasn't meticulously planned around his football schedule.

This though, it doesn't feel forced, even if his personality left much to be desired. The physical connection, at least right now, is enough for me.

"Stop," he whispers, pushing me back. "This doesn't feel right. You probably don't even remember my name."

"Sure I do," I slur. "You're Phoenix, and I'mmmm Daisy."

He flashes a smile, his bright white teeth showing. "Except I'm not Pheonix. Do you remember my real name?"

I twist my brow, wondering why on earth he'd want to ruin this perfect moment with words. I try hard to quickly rack my brain for his name. I come up empty handed.

"How much did you have to drink, anyway?"

I shake my head, trying to remember. I had a few with Levi and his friends, then maybe a couple more.

"How much have you had to drink?" I toss back at him.

"I don't drink," he says, sitting up next to me on the bed, officially ruining whatever I thought was going to happen.

"Why do I all of a sudden feel like I'm being judged?" I ask.

"I'm not judging," he laughs, holding his hands up, "I just don't want to take advantage of you."

I stare at him in disbelief. He doesn't seem like the perfect gentleman type. In fact, he looks like the type of guy that would have girls lined up outside of his house with numbers taped to their shirts, waiting for their turn to audition. Hell, he probably does, especially since he made that comment about my tits at the pool.

"Stop acting like you aren't the same as every other nineteen year old guy. It's not about the sex. You want to have sex, you just don't want to have sex with me ."

He tilts his brows together, "Trust me. I want to have sex with you. I just want you to remember it."

Instantly, I go straight back to my closed off self, feeling a little embarrassed. "You should go."

I take my arms and wrap them around my chest hiding myself.

"Or I could stay?" He smiles, taking his hand and gently tracing the outline of my collarbone.

"But you aren't attracted to me, remember?"

He laces his fingers into my hair, kissing me possessively. "I never said I wasn't attracted to you. I'm very attracted to you."

"Are you always so confusing?"

"You mean honest?" He wiggles his eyebrows playfully, "Yeah, I am."

"Then what do you propose we do if you stay, since you don't want to take advantage of me?"

"We could talk." He offers.

I roll my eyes, "I think I've heard you trip over your words enough in the past twenty four hours."

"You make me nervous," he argues.

His eyes sparkle in the dim lighting and that smile makes my limbs feel like spaghetti. I think he makes me nervous, too.

"Ok. Talk." I demand.

He grins, and I roll my eyes, pulling a t-shirt from underneath him, and sliding it over my head.

"Why are you getting dressed?" He asks.

"Because the vibe is gone, Phoenix. It's weird if I sit here in my underwear."

He looks down at his boxers, and laughs. "I can't believe you don't know my real name."

"Maybe it's better that way."

His grin returns, and he tugs at the hem of my t-shirt.

"Bobcat Football?"

Shit. I didn't even realize I was wearing this particular shirt.

Grayson's shirt.

I glance down at the red fabric, and back to him. "Yeah my old school. The bobcats."

He laughs, "Our mascot was the panthers. Who do you think would've won?"

"What?" I ask, "Between our old football team and yours?"

"No," he smiles, "I already know the answer to that. I mean between a bobcat and a panther."

I can't help but giggle, like what the hell kind of question is that?

"I guess a panther. Why don't you ask Siri?"

He laces his fingers with mine, the gesture feeling way more intimate than it should. "I wanted to ask you."

I struggle to find any words, so he speaks. "A panther would definitely win."

The way he says it makes him sound so cocky, "Why do you think that?"

He takes his other hand, which is massive compared to mine, and places it on my thigh. "A panther is bigger."

I stare down at his hand, then tilt my eyes to his, "Is this about a panther and a bobcat, or me and you?"

He moves his hand from my thigh and brushes his thumb against my bottom lip. "If I was a panther and you were a bobcat, I wouldn't fight you. I'd fight to protect you."

I grin, "I bet you say that to your entire roster, right?"

His smile falls, and he looks confused, "My roster?"

"Yeah," I roll my eyes, "You know all the girls you've slept with."

He pulls his hand away from mine, like I've offended him somehow, and I don't like the way it feels.

"I don't have a roster," he says. "Do you always do this?"

I feel my heartbeat in my throat, afraid of what he might say.

"Try and judge someone straight away so you don't have to actually get to know them?"

I stare at him, memorizing his features and realize he's right, I do that. I do it because I thought I knew Grayson.

Turns out, I didn't.