Chapter 17

17

Q uinn stood in her kitchen, the aroma of roasting meat and herbs filling the air. She checked her timer. Dinner would be ready in less than ten minutes. She sat at the breakfast bar while she waited, replaying last night's events. She'd done it. She'd come out, and the world hadn't ended. She'd had a long phone call with Piper earlier, filling her in on everything from kissing Rebecca to coming out to her family.

Piper had actually cried. Even as Quinn told her everything, it still didn't sound real.

She'd picked up her phone more than once today, wanting to text Rebecca, to see if she wanted to come over tonight, to tell her what had happened. But she'd hesitated, not wanting to seem overeager. In the end, she decided to wait a day or two before reaching out.

A knock at the door took her away from her thoughts. Quinn walked to the door, expecting to see Reagan's grinning face when she opened it. Instead, her breath caught in her throat.

Rebecca stood on her doorstep, bathed in the soft glow of evening sunlight. Her off the shoulder teal sweater revealed tanned skin, and her hair cascaded in loose waves, her copper highlights catching in the light. Quinn's heart skipped a beat.

"Hey," Quinn said, unable to keep the smile from spreading across her face.

Rebecca's eyes met hers, an unreadable expression flickering across her features. "Hi," she said softly.

Before Quinn could say another word, Rebecca stepped forward, wrapping her arms around her. Her breath tickled Quinn's ear as she whispered, "I'm so proud of you."

Quinn melted into Rebecca's arms, the warmth of her body and the subtle sweetness of her perfume.

As they pulled apart, a smile played on Quinn's lips. "News travels faster here than it does in Hollywood. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours."

Rebecca's smile was radiant, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "She is my best friend. She told me this afternoon over a coffee." She slid her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. "She's proud of you. And relieved that you're okay."

Quinn's heart swelled at the words. She still couldn't believe how well it had gone. "I know."

A shrill beeping from the kitchen interrupted the moment, and Quinn glanced over her shoulder. "My dinner's ready," she said, turning back to Rebecca. She hesitated for a beat, a sudden nervousness fluttering in her stomach. "Would you like to stay and join me?"

Quinn held her breath, her heart pounding in her ears as she waited for Rebecca's response.

Rebecca's eyes softened, a smile tugging at her lips. "I'd love to."

Quinn turned off the alarm and took the roast chicken out of the oven. The scent of rosemary filled the air as she started filling their plates a few moments later.

As they ate, Quinn asked Rebecca about her job and then her family. She had no idea that both of Rebecca's parents had died in the last five years.

The conversation flowed easily, and as physically attracted as Quinn was to Rebecca, she knew it was more than that. It was more than infatuation or lust. She loved spending time with her, and as much as she wanted to pick up where they'd left off the other night, Quinn was happy listening to Rebecca, to finding out more about her, about what she liked, about what she hated.

But most of all, she loved that Rebecca hadn't asked a single question about her life in Los Angeles. There had been no probing inquiries into the men she'd dated, no curiosity about whether she knew whoever her favorite actress or actor was, and no interest in what it was like to work with any particular person. Rebecca seemed genuinely uninterested in the Hollywood aspect of her life, and it was so refreshing.