Playing for Real - Book 2

Chapter 12

"Like the song?"

"Yeah, like the song." She blushes again and then looks down at her feet. She fidgets with the pendant. "Listen, Cash, about last night—"

"What about it?"

"I'm happy you told me. I know it wasn't easy for you to let me in and confide in me what you've never confided in anyone before. And when you asked me if I could ever forgive you...? Honestly, Cash...I've already forgiven you. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget, you know?"

I can see in her eyes that she fears being hurt again. And I don't blame her, but it's painful to hear that I'm the reason. I reach out and take her hand. I need to touch her right now. She trembles as my fingers brush her palm. Her teeth bite down on her bottom lip.

"Quinn, I told you, I don't want to lie anymore. I want to be honest with you about how I'm feeling. I still love you." I step forward, and she turns her face up to me, closing her eyes when I slide my hand along her neck and into her hair.

"Cash, don't do this," she says.

"And I know that you love me. Deep down, beneath all the anger—"

She shakes her head. "This is not going to work. Regardless, Daniela is still technically your wife."

"It will work. It can work. I'll end our arrangement. I know it's still there between us."

"Of course, it's still there, Cash." She takes a step back. "Because what we had was real. What I gave you of myself was real. And I hate it now. I hate the fact that I gave you my all because you burned me and broke my heart into a million pieces. And now all I want to do is get on with my life. After what you did and hid from me, if I let you back into my life, I'd be scared you'd do it again."

"Quinn..." I say and stop because I'm not sure what else to say. Seeing her so upset is too much right now.

She lifts her gaze from the floor, and I can see desire looming there. Her breathing becomes shallow, and her chest heavy. I slip a finger up her palm and caress the inside of her wrist. She trembles from my touch, letting out a quivering breath. I step closer to her and run my hand slowly up her arm, waiting for her to push me away again and put a safe distance between us.

"I'm not going to hurt you again. I swear." I press her backward until she's against the cupboards in my kitchen, and my chest is inches from touching hers.

She doesn't push me off. She remains silent and stares at my chest. Her cleavage in her gray shirt is right under my nose. Rising and falling as if she's inviting me to touch her, hold her, kiss her. Her body is warm, her skin soft, and she smells so fucking good.

I reach forward, put my other hand on her waist, and slowly slide it up her body until my thumb is tucked under her breast. She lets out a tiny moan, and her green eyes lock with mine. I ease my hand up and cover her right breast, squeezing it gently. Quinn moans again, and her head falls back, and her eyes close. With my other hand, I cover her left breast and run my thumb over her firm nipple.

"Oh God, Cash," she moans, opening her eyes and staring at me through her lowered lashes.

"I love you, Quinn," I whisper in her ear.

"Cash," she breathes and pushes her chest harder into my hands.

Her mind is fighting her body, but the hooded look of desire in her eyes gives her away. She misses me, too. I've never been this turned on in my life. Seeing Quinn like this—the desperation in her eyes—something feels different in how she wants me. She's almost frantic. I can sense her fear, but her want is stronger.

"Cash..." she starts again.

I pick her up, put her bottom on the counter, and cover her mouth with mine. I run my hands through her hair and nudge her legs open with my hips as I step forward. I'm already hard, and the feel of the warmth of her entire body against the denim over my cock is enough to have me moaning against her mouth, pushing my hips forward.

Quinn's kiss is soft, tender, deep, and as desperate as I feel. I bite her bottom lip and pull her tongue into my mouth. I can't get her close enough. She presses into me, and I slide my hand between us, reaching to touch the soft, warmness between her thighs. She gasps and grabs me by the shirt, pulling me closer.

Fuck. I'm so hard. It's all I can do not to reach for my fly, pull out my dick, and slip inside her, but instead, I grab her hips and feel her unbelievably soft body. I do not know what this kiss means, but I want her like my next breath. I always have, and I always will. Water bubbling and splattering onto the stove top causes her to break our kiss and turn her head toward the element.

"Shit," she says and pushes me back a fraction. I follow her eyes to see the oatmeal boiling over. She hops off the countertop, sprints across the kitchen, turns off the element and removes the pot.

My heart feels crushed from the loss of her touch. We stare at each other in an impenetrable silence. She shifts her feet nervously. I wouldn't say I like how she's suddenly nervous. It's like she's come to her senses and remembers how much she doesn't want me anymore.

"Quinn—"

"You should go lie down while I clean this up," she says as she turns on the tap and rinses out the pot. She refuses to make eye contact with me. "It's probably best."

Shit.

"Quinn, look at me." She pauses and turns off the tap. I swallow hard as she braces her hands on the countertop and stares out the window. I still love her. I need her. "Quinn, please look at me," I beg.

Turning, she takes a deep breath and lifts her eyes to meet mine. Sadness is mixed with something else. Guilt? Fuck. I reach over and cup her face with my hand. "I'm sorry, okay. Should we not have done that? I thought..."

"No. Don't... don't apologize." She drops her eyes from mine again. "This whole situation is confusing. I'm leaving tomorrow and...and... I need to tell you something."

"Okay," I reply, nervous to hear what she needs to tell me suddenly.

"When I told you I've been trying to move on, it's not solely with my studies and new life in Boston. I've been kinda-sorta seeing Aiden." Having her stab at me in the chest would be less painful than hearing this. "And you"—she pauses and motions her hands between us— "this unlikely circumstance...it doesn't change anything between us. I need time to think. I need to be able to process it all and everything you've confided in me with a clear head. We shouldn't have kissed."

I want to pull her to me and bring her to my bedroom, claim her as mine and insist she can't leave me. If she leaves and goes back to him...I can't even think about it.

I let my hand fall from her face and step back to give her space. Quinn lifts her face to look up at me again. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

"Don't go back to him." My voice comes out a lot shakier than I expected it would. "Stay the rest of the week with me. Please. It's spring break, right?"

She whimpers, choking out. "I can't. I'm sorry – "

"Tell me you will, please."

Quinn glances away from me and out the window. It feels like forever until she finally responds. "One extra day. That's it."

"Okay," I say. "I'll take what I can get."