Page 148 of Seven Lost Summers
And fuck, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen that.
His eyes spark with something that looks a hell of a lot like peace.
That used to be him. Before the world fucking shattered and grief took to us with a sledgehammer.
But now.
Now I’m watching that version crawl its way back through the cracks. One breath at a time.
It’s Quinn.
She’s doing that.
She’s reaching into places he swore were dead and pulling the pieces out.
She’s bringing him back. To himself. To us.
“Thought I might have to call the cops,” I mutter, smirking over the rim of my beer. “With all the screaming going on in that room.”
Nate takes a bite of pizza and grins around the mouthful. “You’re one to talk. You treat sex like a fucking competition. Half the time, I swear you’re only trying to see who can make them scream louder.”
“Oh, please.” I scoff, waving pizza crust in his direction. “That’s not a competition. That’s a public service.”
He laughs, mouth still full. “Honestly… I’m shocked you didn’t come knocking. Moaning girls are usually your bat signal.”
I lean back, take another sip of beer, and nod solemnly. “My dick and I had a very serious talk. He wanted to help. I told him no.”
Nate laughs and some fucked-up part of me loosens at the sound.
“Why didn’t you?” he asks, licking sauce off his thumb like we’re not talking about the girl he’s always wanted to fuck.
I pause. Not because I’m unsure, but giving the truth its space.
“I know you’ve wanted that since the day she shut you down with all those pick up lines,” I say, tilting my head toward him. “Don’t bother lying. You smiled through every rejection.”
That grin spreads again. All teeth, mischief, and yeah, the nostalgia. He remembers.
“Was it everything you imagined?” I ask.
Nate leans back, pizza still in hand, eyes on the ceiling like it’s got answers he never thought to ask.
“You know, back then, my teenage brain had it all mapped out. Quick. Messy. Loud.” He huffs a laugh. “Probably would’ve lasted all of thirty seconds and still thought I’d nailed it.”
He glances over, and something shifts behind his eyes.
“I wouldn’t have known how to fuck her like that. Wouldn’t have known how to pull an orgasm out of her so hard she’d forget her own name.” His voice dips. “Back then, I would’ve just screwed the whole thing up. So yeah. I’m glad she shut me down.”
I nod, lips twitching. “Look at you. All grown up and sentimental. Do we get you a little trophy? Or perhaps a condom wrapper with ‘well done’ stamped across the front?”
He snorts, head tipping back against the couch as he lets out a short laugh. “Fuck off.”
But he’s smiling, and he doesn’t deny a thing.
After that, the room goes quiet. Not awkward. Only the kind of silence that settles in when you’ve both said enough for a minute.
I take a breath and let the silence sit for a moment more before I say: “I feel bad for her, man.”
Nate turns toward me, one brow lifted.
