Page 37 of Fragile

Yeah, but maybe I can’t if she gets scared and climbs into my lap. I know what we’re doing is new, and I’m towing some kind of ‘best friend’ line here, but my control will waiver when we’re alone now that I know what she tastes like. I can’t let that happen yet. Not with Quinn.

“What’s that face for?” she asks, amused, as she breaks into a grin. “Don’t tell me the big, strong football player is a scaredy cat?”

The jab to my ribs has my body curling in on itself, and a burst of laughter erupts from both of us. We’re a mess of limbs and teasing pokes until I grab her wrists and pin them above her head. Her warm body fits perfectly beneath mine.

Our breaths make a heavy soundtrack in the room as we stare at each other.

My heart thuds so loudly, I swear she can hear it. As her lips part slightly, I can feel the rise and fall of her chest, matching the quick rhythm of my own breathing.

The look in her eyes pulls me in, like gravity. It feels inevitable. I lean closer, our lips just a breath from one another’s, and even though we’ve already kissed tonight, I want more. Which is a bad idea. My eyes flicker down to her ruby lips and then back up toher green eyes, searching for any sign that I should stop, but all I see is her, waiting for me to make a move. And it would be so easy to do.

“Quinn,” I murmur, my voice barely more than a whisper. I can feel the tension crackling in the air between us, and I’m so close now that I can feel her breath on my skin. “I’m not afraid.” Except I already know that’s a lie. I’m scared of this, of her, of what we could be and how I’ll inevitably mess it up. Suddenly, my throat feels thick as I try to swallow past it. “But for once in my life, I’m going to exercise control.”

She searches my eyes for a beat. “Control?”

“I don’t want to jump into the deep end here. You’re my best friend.”

“Okay,” she says hesitantly. “You know I’m not fragile, right?”

I smirk at her response. I know she isn’t. She’s the strongest person I know. “You might not be, but maybe I am.”

She nods, something that looks like understanding crossing her face. “Well, let’s watch the scary movie. Unless your idea of a good time is sparkly vampires and sexy werewolves again?”

I chuckle lightly, burying my head into the crook of her neck, breathing her in as I do. Fuck, she smells so good. “You know how much I wanted Jacob to get the girl. That’s unfair.”

“I know, poor baby.” She pats my back in the most condescending way and some of that fear dissipates because this is her. My Quinn. When I lift to meet her face, she’s smiling at me, and my heart double taps. “But Edward was far superior. Now get off me, you big brute.”

Reluctantly, I move off her and roll to sit on the bed. Two seconds later, her sweet scent washes over me as her body joins mine. When she presses play, the sinister music filters into the laptop’s crappy speakers, somehow making it more disturbing. I shift in my seat as an image of a boy in his bed in the dark comes on screen, and I glance over to Quinn out of the corner of my eye.She’s chewing on her bottom lip like it’s her favorite flavor of gummy worm, so I lean over her and grab her the bag I brought for her instead. “Give those lips a rest, I’ll need them later.” I peck a quick kiss to her temple.

A gasp of air escapes her, and I can’t help but smirk as I turn my attention back to the movie.

As the evening progresses, I become more aware of Quinn next to me. Her breathing, her subtle movements, her scent. Even though that’s always been etched into my brain as something uniquely her. But tonight, it feels different. It feels like I’m seeing things differently and I’m a little terrified. It’s like flying without a parachute, because I have no fucking idea what I’m doing with Quinn. I can’t just turn on the charm and get into her pants. I mean, I could, but that’s not what this is, I already know that much. I need to think about being what Quinn needs, and wants, in a guy.

Honestly, I have no idea if I can do that, but after one—no, two—tastes of her, I’m not giving up that easily.

Even if I’m in over my head.

Even if I’m keeping things from her.

One thing I know for sure is that I want Quinn Dawson.

Chapter seventeen

Quinn

The bed is warmthis morning. Almost unbearably so, but I like it. The early morning light filters through the hotel curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room as I blink a few times to get my surroundings. My body feels weighted to the mattress and that’s when I realize the heat of another body pressed against mine. As I become more aware of my surroundings, I remember Miles. Him kissing me. Him falling asleep after watching quite possibly one of the most disturbing films I’ve ever seen. How he slept, I’ll never know. I couldn’t, and it had nothing to do with the creepy horror movie and everything to do with him sharing my bed.

His face is nuzzled into the back of my neck, his breath steady against my skin. His tattooed arm drapes over my waist, encasing me below two dice etched on his skin and above is my favorite one, the half royal flush of cards that I so desperately want to run my fingers across.

For a moment, I stay still, unable to will my body to move because he’s here with me, next to me. My heart beats a littlefaster, not out of nervousness, but out of excitement. I don’t know if that’s enough for what I’m feeling. I don’t want to move, fearing that any shift might wake him and shatter this bubble I’ve found myself in.

But eventually, I do shift slightly, and Miles stirs, lifting his head groggily. His eyes, still heavy, meet mine. There's a beat of silence, when neither of us knows what to say or do. The events of last night rush back: the football game, the celebration, the kiss we shared, and the eventual decision to share the hotel bed. It all feels a bit surreal now, in the light of day. Who am I kidding? I’m in bed with the boy I’ve loved my whole life, it’s completely surreal.

“Morning,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep. He offers a small, sleepy smile that makes my heart flutter.

“Morning,” I reply, my voice just above a whisper. I don’t know what’s expected of me now, what the right thing to do is. But Miles seems unbothered as he stretches, his arm leaving my waist as he rolls onto his back giving me room to turn to face him.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks.

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