Page 45 of Confession
“Why not? Sasha has already informed me that everyone knows.”
He sighs and transfers the burgers to a platter.
“You don’t want people to know?” I ask, not really liking his reaction.
“It was inevitable. Burgers are done.” He hands me a plate.
Sasha saves him from my follow-up questions when she saunters over, dripping all over the place.
“You’re a menace,” I tell her.
“Why, thank you,” she replies as she chooses a burger.
Quinn has walked off to find his phone, checking the security feeds. Lucas comes over, hair slicked back from the water and dripping almost as much as Sasha.
As he starts building three burgers, he asks her, “Do you ever wish there was another woman here?”
Sasha squeezes a horrifying amount of mustard onto her burger. “Not really. I love my boys. Though I’m a little bitworried that Vitali might not let Quinn watch movies and cuddle with me anymore.”
“Cuddle?What the fuck are you talking about?”
“It’s very innocent,” she claims.
Quinn comes back from checking his phone. He gives me a wary look, clearly sensing trouble even though he didn’t hear what Sasha said. “What?”
“We’ll discuss it later,” I grumble and snatch a bun from the bag.
Lucas finishes putting his plate together and goes to sit with Roman, who watched the whole time but never came over here. At least he’s relaxed enough to allow Lucas around other people. There was a time when he wouldn’t even let Lucas out of their room.
When I return to my lounge chair with my plate, I sit on it sideways, leaving room for Quinn. He hesitates then sits beside me. When I let my knee touch his, he allows it.
“These are good,” I say around a mouthful.
“Mm,” Sasha agrees from her own lounge chair.
I hand Quinn my beer. Yes, I’m giving him lots of little tests. I think he knows it too.
He sighs and takes the beer.
I want to put my hand on his thigh, but I hold myself back. I’m already pushing his boundaries enough. For now.
***
“What’s with the quilt?” Quinn asks, staring at the bed as we enter my room from the balcony after cleaning up the pool area.
I have an old quilt laid out over top of my bed. It does look kind of funny.
“I knew you were going to get sunburned.”
“What does that have to do with anything? And I’m not sunburned.”
I press my finger against his stomach to show how his skin pales then turns red at the spot.
“Just barely,” Quinn argues, clearly annoyed. “It’ll be gone in the morning.”
“Are you Irish?”
“Oh, who the hell knows. Not everyone has a grand family history, Vitali.”
