Page 43 of More than Paper

I blink back tears as I go.

He grabs my arm, and I shake out of his grasp. “Don’t touch me.”

“Quinn, stop, please!”

Tears are falling down my face. I swipe at my cheeks and speed up my walking.

“Quinn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

I spin toward him. “Stop talking. Please,” I cry out.

Pain crosses his face. I turn and continue on.

“Turn left at the corner.”

I nod.

We walk the rest of the way in silence.

How dare he judge me. I’ve had enough disappointments and rejections in my life. I don’t need any more. I work hard, am good at what I do, and support myself. I’m doing what you’re supposed to do.

My mother’s voice is once again in my head. “Be sensible, Quinn. Get a job, pay your bills, and stop living in la-la land,” along with,“Stop trying to be something you aren’t. Stop setting yourself up to only fail.”

Then there’s my brother’s voice when the last rejection letter came.“The experts have spoken. Stop spending your time on things that aren’t going to happen and focus on sharpening your skills that are going to pay the bills.”

We are about a block from the penthouse when Jamison quietly says, “Quinn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. I just think if you tried—”

I spin. “Do you know what it’s like to constantly be rejected? You don’t know me. You don’t know what my reality is. So stop trying to convince me something can be that can’t,” I cry out with tears streaming down my face.

He tries to pull me into him, but I don’t let him. I move as quickly as I can and get into the building. I throw my ID card at the security man and wipe my face.

The security man motions for me to go through, and Jamison puts his thumb on the gate pad scanner.

There is an uncomfortable silence as we wait for the elevator to arrive. When the doors open, the passengers get off, and we get on, along with four other people.

We say nothing. I stand next to Jamison, and he takes my hand. I close my eyes. The elevator stops on several floors, and we eventually are alone.

He turns into me. I have nowhere to go. I stare at his chest, but he tilts my chin up so I have to face him. His eyes are full of remorse. “I’m sorry. I would never intentionally hurt you. And I wasn’t trying to judge you. You’re the first person I’ve liked in a long time. I think you’re amazing, and I’m already dreading when you leave.”

My heart softens.He thinks I’m amazing? He’s dreading when I leave?

“Can you forgive me?”

“Yes. I’m sorry for my outburst.”

“No apology needed.” He bends down, and his mouth grazes mine, soft and supple.

I wrap my hands around his head, and part my lips for him, slowly exploring his mouth as he pulls me as tight to his body as possible.

The elevator dings and doors open. We continue kissing, and they shut.

“We have to get out,” I murmur against his lips.

“Mm-hmm,” he replies but keeps kissing me and hits a button.

The doors open, and he walks backward, with me attached to his lips, into his apartment.

I forget about our fight and sink further and further into him. Wanting him, not knowing how it could be possible, but feeling that maybe we can figure out how to be together for the long haul.

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