Quinn crossed his arms over his chest and titled his head to the side, “You’ve never mentioned your mother.” He said it as though he just realized it.
I gritted my teeth, “I don’t especially enjoy discussing her.”
“Why not?”
I sighed again, “Because she was inconsistent and unreliable and was the female version of a Wendell.”
He openly considered me, his beautiful lips twisting to the side, “A Wendette?”
My mouth curved into a reluctant half smile and I nodded, “She was-” I looked around the room, beyond him, to the window, “She was really beautiful and my dad was just a complete doormat. She would leave for weeks, months with some guy and then return and my dad would forgive her and we would be expected to pretend like everything was ok.”
His hands moved to his hips, “She cheated on your dad?”
I nodded, “Yes. A lot. In fact, it was ridiculous. Toward the end she was gone more than she was at home.”
“Toward the end?”
My eyes moved back to his, “The end being just before she died.” I shifted, suddenly feeling restless, “So, you see, being someone’s slamp holds no appeal for me, nor do I wish to be a doormat. I like things being defined, I dislike surprises, I dislike lack of clear expectations and…” my hands moved to my hips and I straightened my spine, “And if that makes me a little closed minded then I think I’m ok with that.”
We watched each other for a long moment then, abruptly, he moved.
I felt a foreboding sense of vulnerability as he closed the distance between us, literally closed it as in there was no space between our bodies, and I silently contemplated the way my own melted against his without my consent.
He slid his hands up my arms then around my waist, resting them on my hips just above my bottom. Much to my surprise and somewhat embarrassed appreciation, I felt every hard plane of his body including a hard length pressing into my abdomen.
Again I blushed.
Quinn’s head dipped and his mouth captured mine for a devastatingly soft kiss. My anxiety didn’t dissipate; rather, a new emotion wrapped around the burning ball of trepidation and constricted in my chest. I didn’t recognize the feeling; all I knew was it made me want to rip his clothes off.
He lifted his head just slightly, his eyes hooded, “Are you ready for our date?”
I cleared my throat, suppressing the desire to rub myself against him, suddenly desperate for friction. I cleared my throat again, “I thought you didn’t date.”
Quinn’s cheek moved against mine so that his whispered words were hot against my ear, “I’d like to date you.”
“I-” I shivered and my eyes drifted shut. My voice was tight as I asked, “Does that mean you’re taking the slamps out of rotation?”
I felt him smile against my neck as he placed a lingering kiss on my shoulder, “They’re already out of rotation.”
He placed another kiss on my shoulder right next to where the lace met my skin. My body, disloyal body, pressed against him more firmly, and my words came out on a sigh, “When did this happen?”
I felt him shrug, the simple movement caused his chest to rub against mine and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning.
“Awhile ago.” He pulled away, one set of fingers lifting from my hip and slowly tracing the edge of my dress from my shoulder, where he kissed me, to my collar bone, to my chest, then up again. It sent goosebumps racing over my skin. My scalp felt tight.
Awhile ago.
My lashes fluttered open and I met his gaze; I was confused, fuzzy headed, wanting to know more about the disappearing slamps but instead lost my locomotive of thought as he slowly smiled at me. The aforementioned fingers playing with the edge of my dress slipped over my shoulder and down my arm, entwining with mine.
He tugged on my hand, “Come on. Let’s go have our picnic.”
CHAPTER 14
We spent all day at the park. Several games of Frisbee may have occurred during which I may have gotten grass stains on my white dress.
To my surprise there was a free blues concert at the Jay Pritzker Pavilion, what many group together with Grant Park; and, after our picnic and Frisbee and walking and talking we decided to stay for the music. We positioned ourselves at the edge of the lawn giving us plenty of space between the other park inhabitants.
Quinn reclined on the blanket, his head resting on my lap as though it were the most natural thing in the world, and I stroked my fingers through his hair. I would have stopped to pinch myself to ensure I wasn’t dreaming or sucked into ‘The Matrix’ type alternate reality but I didn’t want to know. No red pill for me.