Page 45 of Chasing After You
“Is it Henry?” he asks, and I shake my head. The only thing wrong with Henry is he’ll never see me the same way I see him.
“No. My brother, Bailey,” I admit as Quinn reaches forward to wipe a tear I didn’t know had fallen. I shrink back from his touch, remembering where we are and why anything affectionate can’t happen. Quinn frowns, clearly not thinking about it, but that’s not a luxury I have. “There’s photographers here,” I murmur under my breath, and realization dawns on his face.
“Fuck, I forgot. Follow me,” he says, standing up.
But I stay where I’m at.
This whole event has been designed to help Henry. Yes, it’s great for the charities and the organization as a whole, but the entire thing happened with Henry at the helm to try and give people a reason to support him.
“Mirabelle?” he asks, his face twisting into an expression of confused disappointment.
“I can’t, Quinn. If anyone sees me leave with you, it’ll put everyone in an awful position,” I say, hoping he can understand where I’m coming from. I think Quinn is nice, and could some of our conversations be perceived as flirting? Maybe. But it doesn’t change the way I feel about Henry, or mean I’m going to follow him to a private area at a team event with the press everywhere.
How exactly would that look if I’m supposed to be Henry’s girlfriend, but I’m pictured walking off with his friend?
Quinn doesn’t take his seat again, which is probably a good thing. “Are you doing anything for yourself right now?” he asks, and I’m not sure why he’s even asking me this in the first place.
Does fake dating the guy I want to be dating count?
“Not really.” I decide upon, and he shakes his head. “I promise, I’m not some damsel in distress. I’ll get my shit together.” I need to get my shit figured out with my parents first, and then I’ll tackle everything with Bailey.
“Mirabelle, we’re all messes so I don’t care about that. What I care about is that you’re not doing anything for yourself. Every day not spent living is a wasted opportunity, especially when we’re only given one life to live. Maybe I’m wrong, but it seems like you’re so focused on everyone else that you’re not making any time for yourself in the process,” Quinn says, as if we’re talking about different types of cheese instead of this philosophical idea I should be doing more for myself, but I already feel like I’m too selfish to begin with. “You’re going to wear yourself thin. Tomorrow is only the first game of the season, and the higher ups haven’t said when they want you and Henry to break up.”
Which means I’m in this for a while still.
I force a smile on my face that I hope is fucking convincing because I am so emotionally drained right now. “That’s a nice way of looking at it, but I’ve already lived more in my life than most people live in a hundred years. I can sacrifice a little to help the people I love.”
Quinn’s dark eyes are swirling with emotion as he looks at me, dragging a hand over his jaw as if realizing something he didn’t see before. “You love Henry?” he asks after a moment, and I freeze, but that’s not necessarily what I said. I have time to deny it. It would make sense to deny it, considering how quickly my plan to seduce Henry is crashing and burning.
I actually thought Henry was going to kiss me again earlier. He was looking at me so intensely, and his lips parted, but then he backed away, just like last time.
“Yes,” I say, surprising myself that I admit it.
“I appreciate the honesty,” he says, before smiling faintly. “You couldn’t pick a better guy than Henry. I know there’s probably nothing I can say to change your mind, but if you do, I’d love a chance to let you see what a great guy I can be too.”
“Quinn, I—I don’t know what to say. I’m supposed to be dating your friend, and this can’t happen,” I stammer, but the only thing playing on repeat in my head is how Henry said he wouldn’t care if I dated Quinn.
He shakes his head. “I’m not asking you to say anything, Mirabelle. You’re supposed to befakedating my friend, there’s a difference. I know how I look in the media—I like women, and I like sex. I’m not ashamed of it, and I’m not going to deny it. I like you because I think you’re funny, beautiful, and you have no problem telling me what you think. You know what this world is like and how rare it can be to find someone who honestly wants to be with you instead of wanting all the things that come from being with you. If you tell me to back off, I will, but I like what I’ve seen so far, and I hope you don’t.”
Is this real?
I look down momentarily at the pink polish on my fingernails, trying to gather my thoughts to say literally anything in response, but I don’t know how to. It’s chaos in my brain.
The sound of Quinn’s footsteps walking away causes me to look up, and a part of me wishes that he never said anything about having feelings for me. The other part of me wonders if I’m a fool for still holding out for Henry.
Nope, this is not the place or time to be making big decisions. I roll my shoulders, feeling how tight they are from stress. I’ve hidden up here long enough.
I make my way back down to the field, moving in the opposite direction from where my parents are, which also happens to lead me right back to Henry. His eyes immediately find mine, and I can’t look away, even if I wanted to.
“Hey,” I greet as I walk up to him, trying my best to act as normal as possible. Kaitlyn is grinning like a fool at the sight of us. It’s crazy how despite only biologically sharing a father, they look similar enough they could be full siblings. They share the same dark hair and hazel eyes, and Kaitlyn’s tall, her head reaching Henry’s shoulders.
I’ve never seen a picture of Henry’s biological mother, but sometimes I wonder what parts of him are from her. I don’t know why she’s not in the picture, but you’d never know Penelope wasn’t his biological mother by looking at him. I don’t know much about Chris’s divorce from Henry’s mom, but from the little comments made over the years, I’ve gathered enough to know it didn’t end amicably.
He doesn’t talk about her, but I’ve noticed he seems to get a lot of calls like the one he got this morning that he declined. I saw the screen last week while he was lifting, and the caller ID said,Maybe: Allison Price.I connected the dots, realizing it was his birth mother after watching closely as he grabbed it. I could practically see the tension rolling off his shoulders as he clenched his jaw like earlier. I wonder if she’s the one who called him today, but Henry hasn’t brought it up, so I’ve been nervous to ask.
“Hey,” Henry says, taking an intentional step to close the gap between us. My heart skips a beat when he wraps an arm around my lower back, pulling me into his side.Relax, Mirabelle.It would be weird if he didn’t do this.
I’m tempted to ask Kaitlyn what she knows about Bailey, but I don’t want to ruin her day.
