Page 117 of Saving Sparrow
“I don’t hate you, Quentin.” The rush of adrenaline made my whole body shake. “I could never hate you. But we need to talk.”
Quentin settled at my feet with a sigh of relief, his quiet tears soaking into my skin as he circled his arms around my legs. “I’ll do anything, just please don’t leave me, don’t be mad at me.”
I stroked his hair. “I love you, Q. That never changes. It never ends.” I didn’t know what to do from there. Now that I’d gotten him to calm down, my own emotions were affecting my ability to think.
“Come on.” I pulled him to his feet, leading him to the closet. He lifted me into a hug as soon as I closed the door behind us, burying his face in my neck. With his body pressed so hard against mine, I could feel the dampness from his orgasm seep through my boxer briefs. I wriggled free, moving several feet away.
“That wasn’t my fault,” he said. “You know it wasn’t my fault.”
I held a hand up when he went to rush me again. He stopped with one foot in front of the other, still ready to pounce.
“I need to hold you, Guelly. I just need my fucking hands on you.”
“You like him,” I said, needing to get to the point before he stopped giving a damn about anything but having me. “You like him as more than just a friend, don’t you?”
“What?” Quentin did his best to look offended, but I knew him too well.
“I like him too,” I added, because I wanted to skip the denying and lying part. “I like him as more than just a friend, too.”
Quentin recoiled. “Since when?” Jealousy, anger, possessiveness… It all came through in those two snarled words. More than anything, though, he sounded confused, and maybe even a little relieved.
“The first night we showered together. It was the way he stared at you afterward. It was the same way I stared at you. Like… Like you wereeverything, Quentin.” I’d psyched myself up into believing I’d imagined it since then. But it didn’t stop me from wanting it to be true. Fantasies of the three of us being together in a new way ran wild in my head.
Quentin stepped into my space, and I let him, resting my hands on his hips as he slid his palms along my neck.
“What about you?” I asked as he gently squeezed. “When did you know?”
“At Darren’s party after the game. Troy asked if the three of us were a thing. I shot him down, but then…”
“Then what?”
“It was the way he looked at you as you danced.”
“How did he look at me?”
“Like he wanted to fuck right there in front of everyone. It’s the same way I look at you. But…”
“Go on,” I whispered.
“But then I figured the shit Troy said had just gotten to me. Darren piped in, too. I shrugged it off. Only…” He frowned, and I squeezed his waist encouragingly. “I don’t know… I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and after a while, the idea didn’t seem so bad.”
Quentin stroked his thumbs up and down my jawline. “He’s ours, you know? He feels like ours. That same part of me that feels missing when I’m not with you feels missing when I’m not near him. He completes something inside of me. He makes me more of what I already am.” He exhaled, shaking his head. “I’m not making sense.”
“You did good, Q.” I kissed him on the chin, so proud of him, proud he was able to process his feelings so well. “He adds to your purpose.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s it. But I’d die foryou, Guelly.” His hands compressed tighter around my neck before easing up again.
“I think you’d die for him, too.” I lifted a hand to his cheek.
Quentin sighed, closing his eyes. “I would. In a fucking heartbeat.”
“You don’t ever have to try to convince me you love me more, Quentin. I love that you love him the same.”
“The same, but different,” he corrected.
“Yeah, that sounds right.” Because I loved Elliott the same but different, too. I loved them equally, but my love for him felt softer than my love for Quentin. It felt protective, and the love I had for Quentin felt primal. I wanted to hold Elliott in the palm of my hand like a baby bird. I wanted to go to war with Quentin.
“So, when do we tell him?”
