Page 54 of Digging Up Love
Once again, Quentin stood alone in Alisha’s kitchen, but this time he knew exactly why. He couldn’t be with someone who kept secrets from the people closest to them. Hewouldn’t.
The only problem? Convincing his foolish heart, which had fled the room alongside Alisha.
Stupid, worthless, irrational heart.
That evening, after he’d gotten out of the shower, a notification flashed on his phone where it sat on the sink basin. His traitorous heart pumped into overdrive. He wiped the towel down his chest, then rubbed his arms dry before curiosity got the best of him. He flipped the thin motel towel over his shoulder and picked up his cell.
Alisha:
I’m really sorry I stormed out on you earlier. I only got upset because you were telling me what I already know.
His eyebrows shot up. He hadn’t expected an apology, and quite frankly he wasn’t sure he deserved one. Where did he get off telling her how to live her life? Just because he felt a strong bond didn’t mean they were on the same page. Didn’t give him the right to weigh in on her choices. If they called whatever this was quits right now, then they’d both be better off. He drew the towel along his jaw.
Quentin:
I get it. Family is complicated. I’m sorry for speaking out of turn.
Alisha:
No need to apologize, really. But yes, family is A LOT.
Not wrong there—family waseverything. Even though his father misunderstood him and berated his choices, Quentin couldn’t imagine lying to those closest to him. A trait he’d thought he shared with Alisha. Another miscalculation, but at least this time he’d found out before it was too late.
He finished toweling off and grabbed his boxer briefs off the counter, then tugged gym shorts on. Unsure whether to respond or leave it at that, he stood with feet planted on the damp tiles, gnawing his lip. A drip of water rolled out of his hair and down his cheek. He lifted a shoulder to rub it off, and his phone pinged again.
Alisha:
Meg insists on throwing a bonfire for all of you. Apparently she feels like you need a proper Hawksburg welcome, whatever that means. I can tell her not to.
Quentin sucked his teeth. He picked the phone up and put it back down. Palms braced on the counter, he met his reflection in the mirror.No denying he was developing feelings for this woman. But keeping her family in the dark about a huge change? Far too reminiscent of what Mercedes had done to him. He couldn’t go through that again.Could not.His breathing sped up, fogging the mirror.
Don’t cry. Donotcry.Inhales ragged, Quentin forced himself to think pragmatically. He and Bridget were running a once-in-a-lifetime dig, trapped out here in no-man’s-land. A party would be good for morale, and it would be selfish to deny everyone else a chance to let loose. He would just have to keep his budding crush in check. Easier said than done, especially with Alisha’s contrite attitude.
But an apology didn’t mean she would tell her grandparents about her plans. And it didn’t erase the fact she’d been keeping a secret for months, maybe years, from her whole family.
He sure as heck couldn’t press the issue any further, that much was clear, but hecouldprotect his own heart. Get over this misguided infatuation.
Quentin:
No, that’s okay. I’m sure everyone would like that. What time?
Alisha:
8ish? I’ll text you the address.
Quentin:
Sounds good.
Slipping on sandals, he pulled his T-shirt over his head and padded down the hallway to knock on Forrest and Dev’s door.
“C’mon in!”
He stepped into the room and found them playing cards at the tiny table by the window, reading lamps on, a baseball game on at low volume.
“How’s it going?” Dev tipped up his chair, cards at his chest.
Quentin sat down on one of the beds, with an eye on the TV. “Good,” he lied.
