Page 64 of Topping the Jock
Chapter Thirteen
Monty
Quinn was different. He smiled more, and the wall he normally hid behind had been lowered, if only a little. I was seeing the real him.
Over dinner, I told him about life in Texas, and he told me that he’d followed my college career for a while prior to my injury. I’d had no idea. It showed me that we were exactly where we were meant to be, sitting across from each other, hand in hand, and fueling the connection between us.
“So you were my stalker,” I teased. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“You wish.” He finished off his glass of wine before cutting off another piece of chicken. “But you crossed my mind often.” When I smiled, he narrowed his eyes. “Don’t look too smug. I mainly thought of how big of an asshole you were.”
That gentle gleam in his eyes said otherwise.
Afterward, he paid for our meal—ignoring my many complaints that I’d pay—and then we walked outside. The night air was chilly but not too bad. The Italian-American restaurant was part of the strip of stores and restaurants along the harbor. Close enough to smell the ocean and feel the breeze coming off the water.
“Hey.” Quinn stopped in the parking lot before we reached my truck. “Do you want to take a walk?”
“Where to?” I asked, grabbing his hand. It felt so natural to do so. Felt even better when he threaded his fingers through mine.
“Wherever the night takes us.”
The night took us downtown at first. The streetlights glowed against a black sky as we moved down the sidewalk. Cars passed, as did other people, some in groups and others were couples. Quinn’s hand was warm in mine despite the chill in the air. And when our eyes met, his eyes were warm too.
“Aren’t you worried someone will see you with me?” I teased, gently bumping his shoulder.
“No.” He held my hand tighter in his grasp. “To be blunt, anyone who has a problem with it can just fuck off.”
“What about your dad?”
Quinn breathed in, then out, his nostrils lightly flaring. “I’ll deal with that when it happens. IfIcan forgive you, he should too.”
“Is that your way of saying you want to go on a second date?”
He eyed me with a skeptical expression. “Eh. Maybe. You’re not so bad, I guess.”
“You guess?”
Quinn looked away, a smile curving his lips.
Seeing a coffeehouse, we stopped inside to get hot drinks to help warm us up. I ordered a large coffee, leaving a ton of room for cream and sugar, while Quinn ordered his black.
“To match my bitter personality,” he said, holding up his cup in a cheers fashion before taking a sip.
“Does that mean I’m creamy and sweet?” I asked, winking at him.
“A bit musky, actually. But creamy? Yes.”
“I can’t believe you just said that,” I said, feigning shock. “My poor virgin ears.”
“I don’t know what they call it down in Texas, but regularly taking a dick up the ass does not a virgin make.”
I choked on a laugh.
After leaving the coffeehouse, we got back on the sidewalk and moved at a leisurely pace. The bars were packed full, and as we passed them, music thumped from the inside before quieting again once we were far enough away. Quinn turned left down a path, and I followed beside him, reaching for his hand again. His palm slid against mine as our fingers linked.
He had led us to the pier.
The dark water gently sloshed against the dock, and the moon was full and bright. I stared up at the sea of glittering stars, feeling Quinn’s hand in mine, and could barely believe it was real. That, somehow, life had brought us to that exact moment.
