“Gavin, I’m sorry. I told you… I don’t know what I want. How can I possibly know that when I don’t even know who I am?”
I can hear the desperation in my voice and so can he.
His face softens a bit in reaction.
“Gav, I told you this on the boat the other day. I said that I was afraid to pursue this because I never want to lose you. And you said that it wouldn’t matter—that I would never lose you, no matter what.”
Now his eyes are really soft as he looks down at me.
“So, you don’t want to lose me… but you don’t know that you want me, either?”
My heart hurts at his words.
Like, it literally hurts.
“I don’t know what to say, Gavin,” I tell him. “I know that I love you in some way. I know that you are sexy as hell and you make me laugh and you know me like no one else does. I know that I love being with you—I love laughing with you and swimming with you and kissing you. But something seems to be holding me back and I don’t know what it is.”
I’m crying now. I feel the tears streaking down my face and Gavin moves to wipe them away. I lean into his hand and he cups my cheek.
“Let me know when you figure it out,” he says softly.
And then he leaves me by the pool.
Alone.
I am stunned.
Gavin, easy-going, always laughing, always ready Gavin, just left me alone because I hurt him.
And I definitely didn’t mean to.
Yet I did.
And now my heart seriously hurts.
I sink to my knees by the water and cry. Anyone who ever thought I’m a bad ass should see me right now, because I cry until my lungs hurt. The ugly kind of cry, too. Not the pretty, delicate sniff-into-a-tissue cry. Oh, no. I’m crying the dreaded gut-wrenching, mascara-ruining ugly cry.
And I don’t care.
I don’t even care when I hear someone behind me.
“I need a minute,” I call out, sniffing into my hand. I don’t have a tissue, so I wipe my snotty nose on my hand. Gross, but necessary.
“Are you alright?”
Quinn’s husky voice is quiet in the dark.
I freeze. I know I look like some sort of monster with black-rimmed swollen eyes and a runny nose. But worse than that, I don’t want him to see me this way—sad and broken. Not when he thinks I’m some sort of bad-ass. And especially not when I’m crying because I don’t know what my heart wants. How pathetic is that??
“I’m fine,” I tell him without lifting my head.
There is more rustling behind me. And then I feel his hand on my back. It’s warm and large and comforting.
“You don’t seem fine,” he says softly.
“I’m not,” I admit limply. I look up now, knowing full well that he will see me in all of my raccoon-eyed glory. But he doesn’t even flinch. He’s just staring at me with the most concerned look.
“What’s wrong?” he asks simply. “Can I help?”
I swallow.
“I don’t know,” I tell him. “Can you fix the holes in my memory so that I know what I want?”
Quinn stares at me. He’s serious and calm and thoughtful as he tries to decide what to say. Finally, his lips move. I know this because I’m staring at them.
“No, I can’t fix your memory,” he tells me as he scoots closer to me. “But who cares? You don’t need your memory to figure out what you want.”
I snort, then remember too late that my nose is gunky and runny. I sound like a snotted up pig. I blush, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“You don’t,” he insists. “You know who you are even if you don’t remember it.”
“That’s what Reece said,” I mutter. “But it’s easy to say when you’re not the one who is clueless.”
“Oh, I’m clueless,” he nods. “Trust me. Or you can just ask Reece. She can tell you. I’m very, very clueless about many, many things.”
I smile now, even through my snot.
“Why are you here?” I ask curiously. “How did you know I was out here?”
Quinn shakes his head. “It wasn’t hard. When you ran out of the room chasing Gavin, I didn’t think it was going to end well.”
I’m still now.
The night is cool against my skin and my heart beats hard against my ribs. It’s so quiet out here that I can almost hear it.
“You knew I was chasing Gavin? And you still came after me?”
Quinn nods slowly.
“How did you know that it wasn’t going to end well?”
Quinn rocks back on his heels and he stares at the pool thoughtfully.
“I just knew. Gut instinct.”
“So you came after me.”
I’m stunned by this. What kind of boy would come after me when he knew that I was chasing another guy? Clearly, one who is self-confident. And Quinn is that. And clearly, a boy who is caring and kind. And Quinn is that, too.
But still.
Holy Whoa. How amazing is he?
“Thank you for not pressuring me,” I tell him randomly. I feel so tired and drained. And I’m just so thankful for his presence. So I tell him that.
He smiles.
“You’re welcome. And I’m not going to pressure you. Do I think you’re cute as hell and twice as sexy? Yes. I do. Do I love your sassy-ass sense of humor? Yep. That too. But I’m going to wait until you realize that you like me, too. I might be clueless about many, many things, but even I know that I can’t make someone like me. If someone likes you, they’ll realize it. And then it will be worth the wait.”
“You think I’m worth the wait?”
I’m whispering now. I don’t know why because we’re all alone in the moonlight. Quinn smiles his sexy lop-sided, knee-weakening grin.
“Yes. I do.”
“You seem so confident that my mixed up head is going to decide that you’re the one for me.” I state this calmly as if this conversation wasn’t insanely ridiculous. I’m sitting here with a gorgeous American cowboy discussing the fact that I don’t know if I like him. Is this even happening? Ohmygosh.
“Oh, your mixed up head will definitely decide that,” Quinn answers with a grin. Then he winks. “Because it’s the right choice.”