Page 105 of Seven Lost Summers
Still, when I watch him out here, with his shirt sleeves pushed up, jaw relaxed, face flushed from the heat of the grill, it makes me wonder if he ever imagines that life. If he ever lets himself picture a version with less noise. Less chaos.
I glance at Quinn.
She’s watching him too, eyes following every movement as Nate tends to the grill.
“Did you get some good shots today, Q?” Nate asks once the flames catch.
“Yeah,” she says. “Let me show you.”
She starts scrolling through the photos, and Nate steps closer without hesitation, his focus pulled straight to her.
I push up from my chair, scoop up my empty beer bottle and hers, and head inside for a refill.
The kitchen is still warm from earlier, the scent of garlic clinging to the air. I pop the fridge open, grab three beers, and when I shut the door, something catches my eye.
Through the open window, I catch a glimpse of them.
Nate’s leaning in, one hand braced on the edge of the table, his body angled toward her. Quinn’s showing him something on the screen, her finger tracing across the photos while her mouth moves in quiet explanation. Their heads are close. Shoulders brushing.
There’s a stillness between them. A gravity I wasn’t ready for.
And then it slams into me.
I know Nate. Every mood, every shift in his voice. Every wall he’s built since Bianca. And right now, those walls aren’t up. He’s open in a way I haven’t seen in years. Not with anyone and yet he’s letting Quinn in.
There’s something in the way Quinn looks at him, open, easy, familiar. Maybe she’s the one he’d risk everything for again.
I grab the beers and head back out before I start thinking too much.
Nate looks up as I hand him one. He cracks it open without a word, takes a long drink, then nods toward Quinn.
“She got some good shots. Kit’s gonna lose her shit.”
Quinn shrugs, thumb still moving over the screen. “I hope so.”
It catches me off guard.
This is the same girl with sarcasm on her tongue.
The same girl who never seemed to flinch, no matter what was thrown at her. Back then, she carried a kind of confidence that made you pay attention. Not loud or showy. Just steady and fucking unshakable. She was certain of who she was. What the fuck happened to her?
Nate moves to the grill, loading it with steaks as he talks shit about Ace’s inability to cook anything that isn’t frozen. Quinn laughs and for a second it all seems too easy. Too familiar.
I sit back in my chair and take a long pull of my beer, eyes drifting to her again. That same twist coils through me, heavier now.
I tell myself it’s nothing, but the burn in my chest says otherwise.
I meet Quinn’s eyes, and fuck me, there’s something there.
Her gaze lingers on mine longer than it should. I toss her a slow, smug smirk, letting her know I see it. I see her and every bit of that charged silence hanging between us.
My cock stirs at the thought, my mind already painting the picture in high-definition. Her, naked and spread out, thighs open, mouth parted. Me and Nate taking our time, working her over, giving her no room to think. Just pleasure. Just us.
I wonder what the fuck she sounds like when she comes. Does she fall apart fast or make us earn it? Is she loud? Does she take control or let herself be ruined?
I snap out of the spiral when she suddenly stands, camera clutched tight in her hand.
“I’m just gonna take this inside,” she says, voice a little too quick. “Won’t be a minute.”
