Page 74 of Four More The Merrier

"Alright, let's get some promo shots," the photographer adjusts his lens. "Quinn, maybe stand closer to Jarron?"

I take a tentative step closer, hyper-aware of Jarron's presence. The cologne he's wearing tonight is different - woodsier, more intimate somehow.

"Come on, guys." The photographer lowers his camera with a sigh. "You're supposed to be tour mates. Act like you actually like each other."

"Who says I have to act?" Jarron's voice is low, meant only for me.

Before I can process what's happening, he pulls me against him. One arm wraps around my waist while his other hand cups the back of my head. His lips press against my forehead, soft andlingering. The gesture is so tender, so unlike his usual bravado, that my knees go weak.

I melt into him despite myself, despite knowing Beau is probably watching from the bar, despite having danced with Austen moments ago, despite everything with Lyle. The flash goes off, capturing the moment.

"Perfect!" The photographer exclaims. "That's the money shot."

Guilt churns in my stomach as Jarron's lips leave my skin, but his arm stays around my waist. I catch sight of Austen watching us from the dance floor, his expression unreadable in the strobing lights.

"What's wrong?" Jarron whispers against my hair.

I close my eyes, torn between what I want and what I should do. "Jarron, I... I need to use the restroom."

I burst through the bathroom door, nearly colliding with a girl touching up her lipstick. My heels click against the tile as I duck into an empty stall, pressing my forehead against the cool metal door. The bass from the club thrums through the walls, matching my racing heartbeat.

"What are you doing, Quinn?" I whisper to myself, sinking onto the closed toilet lid. My red dress bunches around my thighs as I drop my head into my hands.

Beau's gentle smile flashes through my mind, followed by Lyle's protective nature, Austen's vulnerable moments, and now Jarron's surprising tenderness. My stomach twists into knots.

"Get it together," I mutter, fishing my phone from my clutch. Three missed texts from Abby light up the screen.

"Hey babe, how's the tour going?"

"Quinn?"

"Earth to Quinn? Don't leave me hanging!"

I type back: "I fucked up, Abs. Really fucked up."

Her response is immediate: "Spill."

"I slept with all of them."

"WHAT?! QUINN MARIE DUPREE!"

"I know, I know. It just... happened."

"Things don't just HAPPEN four times with four different guys!"

I rest my head against the stall partition. "They're all so different. Beau's sweet and steady, Lyle makes me laugh, Austen sees the real me, and Jarron... God, Jarron."

"Girl, you're gonna be a hot commodity when midnight rolls around."

"Oh God, I didn't even think of that." I text back.

"Just be careful Quinn."

I make my way out of the bathroom, when I hear the tell tale chanting of counting down to midnight.

I look out and immediately spot all four of them converging on me from different directions. Beau from the bar, Lyle from the dance floor, Austen from the VIP section, and Jarron pushing through the crowd.

"Seven! Six! Five!"

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