Page 69 of Finders Keepers
“So why didn’t you?” I ask. “Why didn’t you kiss me then?”
“I almost did. Really. But I kept chickening out. Why doyou think I wouldn’t shut up about constellations? I was so freaking nervous. But the next night, when we were supposed to meet, I promised myself I was going to do it. That it was my last chance, and I was going to take it. To put it all out there, finally. Then you didn’t show, and I felt like an absolute idiot.” He releases my hand, and I reach for him, reluctant to lose his touch. “Kind of like I feel now, to be honest.”
“Then we’re both idiots,” I say. “It’s a perfect match, really.”
We sigh deeply in unison, and silence stretches as we stare into each other’s eyes, really seeing each other fully for the first time.
“So. Is the surprise that you’re gonna fuck me here in the mushroom folly?” I joke.
This startles a laugh out of him that I’ve only heard once before—when we were fourteen and I wore a new bathing suit to a friend’s birthday party at a water park. I thought he was laughing at the fact that I was a chubby girl in a two-piece. But I’m pretty sure now that it was actually the nervous laugh of someone confronted with something that’s completely overwhelmed their system. “That is not the surprise,” he says. I reach up and place my hand on the side of his neck so I can feel his flush even if I can’t see it in the dark.
“Was it that you used to have a crush on me? Because it’s flattering and I definitely had one on you too, but like, as far assurprisesgo…” I teeter my hand. “Meh.”
“Maybe I will fuck you in the mushroom folly,” he says, a glint in his eye that tells me he’s joking but also definitely imagining it. His hands return to my hips, and he presses me slightly harder against the pillar. My heart flutters. At first I think it’s a response to his touch and that look he’s giving me, until I remember the worry that’s been plaguing me since he texted yesterday.
“You got a job offer?” I blurt out.
His eyebrows dive, and that wolfish grin fades. “Did Patti tell you?”
“Wait. You told my mom before telling me?”
“I didn’t exactly tell her so much as she overheard it. I was on the porch when the call came, and she was heading out. I asked her not to say anything to you.”
“She didn’t,” I say. “I just guessed. Anyway, congratulations. So you’re leaving, then? That’s the surprise?”
“No,” he says, lips curving again, less certain this time. “The job would be here, actually.”
“What?”
“In Catoctin. It’s a small, local firm that specializes in civil cases. They want someone to focus on landlord and tenant stuff, which I did way back in a law school clinic and really enjoyed. It’s an opportunity to help people, and my dad is fine with me staying in the house, if I want, instead of selling it. Or I might still sell and find something else. I don’t know yet.”
He’s staying here. Quentin is staying. A spark ignites in my heart, and I feel illuminated from the inside out. Because what is stopping me from staying too? From taking a chance on this, on us? I’m still terrified and overwhelmed by the concept of getting everything I want. What if I get it only to lose it like I did my old life? But this could also be a sign that my luck is turning around. That the losing streak is over. It feels like I’ve been lost in the woods for a month and have finally stumbled across a path; I would be a fool not to follow it. Besides, no matter where it spits me out, I’ll at least know where I am, which is more than I had before.
His face goes very serious, his wide mouth a straight line ashe readies himself to say more. “But if…or when…you leave, to go back to Boston or move somewhere else entirely, I still need you in my life, Neen. Whatever that looks like to you, and whether it be friendship or something more, I will do anything. Anything it takes to bridge the distance. I meant it when I said I don’t want to lose you again.”
His tone is firm, but there’s tension in his jaw, around his eyes, that speaks of uncertainty. As if he thinks I might deny him, even now, after all we’ve shared.
“Quentin,” I whisper as I place my hands on his shoulders. “If you were going to give me seventy percent of the reward money if we found the treasure within eight weeks, what would I get if I keep looking with you beyond that?”
“What?”
“What if I stick around? To keep looking for it.”
“For how long?”
“Well, as long as it takes. Months. Years. Decades, if necessary. Do I get more then?”
It takes him a moment to process what I mean. Finally he says, “I’ll go up to eighty-five percent, but no higher.”
“God, you suck so much,” I say, my smile giving away how little I mean that.
He grins back at me, then presses his forehead to mine. It feels like a secret world inside of a secret world inside of a magic one.
“I meant it too, when I said I don’t want to lose you again either,” I whisper, then press my mouth to his, cupping his face to keep it close to mine. I give and give and take and take until it’s all inseparable, one and the same. Quentin is right that we’re good together. In all sorts of ways, but especially this one. Hisfingers dig into my hips, stronger, deeper as my tongue strokes his. A loudboom!sounds in the distance, and for a moment I think we’ve somehow generated it until I remember: fireworks.
“Should we…Do you want to go watch?” I pant out.
“Not really. Do you?” he asks, his hand moving to rest on my upper thigh, skimming the hem of my dress.
