She accepted a bottle of chilled water from him, keeping an eye on Quinn, waiting for him to strike in some manner. When she dropped to sit on the blanket, he joined her, pulling in his knees and resting his arms on them. She drank in silence, appreciating the sight of his upper torso glistening under a fine coating of sweat. She rolled the bottle across her forehead and then took a sip.
“Hot?” His mouth skimmed her ear as she took a long swig.
She swallowed too fast and choked. Quinn gave her back a swift pat. He kept his palm there until she shrugged it off. If he kept touching her in such an easy manner, she’d combust.
Woody lounged on his back, propped on his elbows, on her other side “When’s the last time you hung out on the beach, Quinn? It must have been over a month.” He glanced up at her. “Our friend is all work and no play. Mr. Castillo relies on him for everything. If our boss needs information about an employee or guest, he’s right there to deliver.”
She finished her water and played with the label, trying to remain calm. How much had Quinn figured out?
“Yes, I know everything. I’m all seeing,” he joked in a husky tone and shifted closer to her.
“And you know so much about me, All Powerful Seeing Eye.” She refused to back down from his taunting voice.
“Seeing as we didn’t hang out together in college, unlike Carly and I, how would I know anything about you? Speaking of your sister, I thought she was a pretty standup person, but she proved me wrong. She never said goodbye and didn’t even gift us with her presence at graduation.” His body became rigid, his voice biting.
She’d been horrible cutting off all ties, but there had been a reason. A big reason.
“Woody!”
Three women near the water waved in their direction. Woody sat up and slicked his hair back. “If you two will excuse me, my adoring fans await.” He stood, dusted off his bathing trunks, and strolled away.
Quinn sat in unyielding silence. She tapped her thumbs one over the other. His presence at her side after all these years made her twitchy.
“I don’t remember you fidgeting so much in college,” he remarked, his voice friendlier.
“You love talking about the good old days, as if we were close buddies. Carly’s the one you were friends with. I can’t tell you the number of times she mentioned your name or how great a guy you were.”
He dropped his hand on the blanket near her hip and stroked the edge of her swimsuit with his pinkie. “Not surprising. Most of the women on campus couldn’t stop talking about me.” His wide smile reached his eyes.
She choked back her laugh and, without thinking, bumped her shoulder with his. He swept a strand of hair sticking to her cheek aside. She stared at him, undone by the casual, intimate action. As her heart drummed in her chest, he lifted his hand and drifted it down her throat and her arm, finally laying it on her leg.
“What happened between us?” he asked, his smile replaced by a range of emotions she couldn’t decipher.
“You mean between you and Carly?” she asked, fixing her gaze on the sunlight dancing on the turquoise waters.
“Yes. She didn’t tell you why she didn’t say good-bye to me and never got in touch after graduation?”
She closed her eyes, his sorrow striking a chord in her. The least she could do was be honest with him about the night they shared and why she’d left him without a word.
“There’s a reason why my sister and I didn’t walk at graduation, never to be heard from again.” She inhaled and blinked away the dampness forming in her eyes. “She never told you how sick our mom was?”
“She told me your mother had been ill, but she wouldn’t go into any details. I didn’t want to pressure her.”
She opened her eyes and stared out at the water. “Mom suffered from breast cancer. By the time Cas, ah Carly, and I went to college, she had become worse. We didn’t want to leave her. But since LVU offered us scholarships, Mom insisted we go. She said we couldn’t refuse the opportunity of a lifetime. We accepted to make her happy.” She wiped her mouth and sniffed. “Senior year, Mom really deteriorated. When we went home for spring break, we could see she didn’t have much time left.”
“I remember when you came back. You lost weight and were too quiet and not your normal self,” he said, rubbing his thumb across the inside of her wrist.
“You mean Carly, not me,” she corrected him. “The night after finals ended was supposed to be my last hurrah before graduation a week later.” She inhaled a ragged breath and faced him. “Carly told me how much she loved being with you that night. You took your friendship to the next level, and it was everything she’d wished for her first time. She left so early in the morning without saying good-bye because our dad called to tell us Mom passed away. We packed up, rented a car, and drove home.”