Damn it, I was not going to cry. But he wouldn't let me go.
"Lilly-"
"I mean, it was presumptuous, right?"
"Lil-"
"Seriously. It is. We're only dating. It's not like I'm your girlfriend."
"Can I talk, please?"
But I was on a roll. "Who does that? Who asks the guy she's just dating to meet her parents on Thanksgiving?" I let out a slightly hysterical laugh, and kept trying to get him to release me. "It's ridiculous! I'm ridiculous."
"Damn it, Lilly. Just-"
"I should probably finish these dishes and get home. If you'll just … "
I trailed off and pointed at his arms. He loosened one, but held firm with the other. And the arm that released me came up so his hand could cover my mouth.
"Baby. Stop." I'd been mumbling against his palm, but the moment his clipped command left his lips, I shut up. I couldn't read his expression, and at that very moment I really needed to know what he was thinking. Had I screwed up epically? Had I pushed too far? Was he going to end us?
I was expecting the absolute worst, so what he said next shocked me. "Sophia's going to Seattle for Thanksgiving, and I'm on shift at the department." He held my eyes for a beat before finally lowering his hand from my mouth. "That's what I was trying to say. But you went on your rant and wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise."
"Sorry," I mumbled before pulling my lips between my teeth and biting down to keep my word-vomit at bay.
Quinn's grin returned as he tucked some of my hair behind my ear. "Christ, you're cute always, but even cuter when you're rambling."
My face went hot, but I ignored my blush in order to ask, "So, you're not going to have Sophia for Thanksgiving?"
The humor dissipated from his face. "No."
I was suddenly terribly sad for him. "Is this something that happens every year?"
His thunderous expression told me all I needed to know, but he still vocalized his response. "No, it's not. Her grandparents on her mom's side called and requested they have her for the holiday. I didn't feel like I could say no."
I rested my hands on either side of his neck, hating how upset he seemed at the thought of not being with his daughter on such an important day. "Of course you could say no! Or maybe they could come here instead. You're her father, Quinn. All the decisions are yours."
He then let me go and took a step back, rubbing at the back of his neck anxiously. "You wouldn't understand."
That did not sit well … at all. And despite my fear of overstepping, I found anger spiking and myself saying, "Maybe I would understand, if you talked to me about it."
He sighed and kept his gaze diverted down. "It's not something I want to discuss, okay? When I'm with you, I want to be with you. I don't want to have to think about all the shit swirling around in my life."
"But you know I'm here, right? If you ever need to talk?" I stepped close and took his hands in mine. "That's what you're supposed to do with people you care about. You talk to them and they listen. You can't push the real world out all the time, Quinn."
"I can goddamned well try," he grumbled, shaking my hands loose and moving to the fridge. He yanked it open, pulled a beer out, popped the cap off, and chugged. Once he was done, his eyes came back to me, and his voice sounded devoid of all emotion when he said, "It's late. You should probably get home."
Yep, I'd definitely pushed too hard. But was it really too much to ask that he talk to me? I wanted to argue. I wanted to get in his face and tell him that this wasn't how relationships worked, that it wasn't healthy. But I didn't. Not because I was scared of losing him, but because I knew then just how pointless it would be. And I was tired of beating my head against a brick wall.
Instead of arguing, I nodded and went for my purse where it rested hooked on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. "Yeah. You're right. I should go."
I moved to step past him, concentrating on the floor at my feet as I walked, when his hand shot out and caught me around my arm. "Lilly, I'm sorry."
I lifted my head just enough to look at him through my lashes and offered up a tiny smile. "It's fine, Quinn. I get it, really. Don't worry about it."
Uncertainty flickered through his eyes as he asked, "Can I call you tomorrow?"
"Of course."
The uncertainty remained, and I understood why with his next question. "Will you answer?"
God, he was breaking my heart. "Yes, Quinn," I whispered. "I'll answer. Because in spite of everything, I really do care about you. Nothing's going to change that."