Before You Break

Chapter Sixteen Quinn

“So, how bad does it suck that your parents are gone for the holiday?” she asked while staring out the window, almost as if she was afraid to meet my eyes. Maybe she was nervous she was overstepping bounds again.

I looked down at her knee, jiggling away on the other side of the console, and it mimicked the restless beats of my heart. I had Ella alone in my car and I all I could think about was wrapping her in my arms and kissing the hell out of her. Being with Ella somehow gave me hope that one day, I could feel something real again.

Like I could hang all my worries on a hook by the door.

“Honestly? It happens all the time,” I said. “I’m used to it. But don’t tell anyone that.”

I could see Ella’s frown in my peripheral vision.

Ella’s mother thought I was a friend of her boyfriend’s and I figured she’d kick the shit out of me if she knew I was entertaining dirty thoughts about her daughter. If her mother was that intimidating, I wondered what her father would be like.

My own father used to scare the hell out of me when I was younger. He’d only have to say one sentence in his imposing voice and I knew it was his way or the highway. I couldn’t wait to be finished with college, done with having their money influence my decisions, just so I could take off somewhere the hell away from them.

I could have done it when I turned eighteen. I’d even planned it, but then everything happened. I was in shock, grieving, scared shitless, and had made the decision to do something for Sebastian and his parents. My parents never even asked what the hell I was doing and why, they were just glad I’d chosen a major good enough for the child of a politician.

Over the years I’d been asked countless times if I had similar political aspirations as my father. Fuck no. I didn’t have any damn desire to be like my father.

“Do you have other family in the area?”

“My aunt and uncle,” I said. “But . . . it’s a long story.”

I was hoping she got the hint that I didn’t want to talk about it.

She must’ve because she changed the subject. “So, where do you work on cars?”

I pulled into my long driveway. I was almost embarrassed by the size of our home. It was a shell of an empty house anyway. Too many bedrooms and all for show. I had sent the housekeeper home for the weekend. No need for her to stay and make me dinner when she had a family of her own to be with over the holidays. Besides, I just wanted to be alone.

“I’ll show you,” I said, jerking the car into park. I walked to the passenger side and opened the door.

That small action had surprised her. “Thank you,” she said, a shy grin lifting the corners of her lips.

She stepped out and looked up at the monstrosity that was my house. “Wow. Impressive.”

“Not really.” We walked through the side door of the garage and I flipped on the light.

Car parts were littered around the spacious cement floor. Portions of an engine I had abandoned the other day, in favor of fixing the brakes on my car. The canister of candy-apple-red paint stood tall against a brush. I walked toward the driver-side door of my latest project. “I’ll be able to drive this baby someday. I’ve been restoring her for years.”

She knelt down to inspect the paint canister. “That color kicks some serious ass.”

“It does.” I couldn’t hold back my grin. “I finally got the right mix for this paint job.”

She stroked her hand across the car bumper. “Where did you learn to work on cars?”

“My uncle. He taught me everything I know,” I said, making sure the lid on the can was secure. I’d planned on coming back and painting more tonight, but my plans had obviously changed. Probably in the only way that could possibly be better. “He owns his own shop here in the city.”

“How come he hasn’t snatched you up yet?” she asked, now inspecting my worktable, as if truly interested in spark plugs and lug nuts.

“Ha, don’t think he hasn’t already tried,” I said, carrying the paintbrush to the slop sink. “But my parents would have something to say about that and their college funding.”

I twisted the hot-water handle and watched as the red paint washed down the drain. “Instead I’m learning about how to be a businessman. That keeps them quiet.”

It was brief, but I saw anger pass through her eyes. “I hope it comes in handy for you someday.”

“I plan to make sure it does,” I said, stepping toward her. She was in my sacred space and it was hard not to want to grab her hand and show her all of my treasures and toys, but I shoved my fingers in my pockets to restrain myself. She was probably bored to tears here.

Ella was staring at me, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You just . . . I’ve never seen you like this,” she said, replacing a wrench she’d been inspecting. “There’s this fire in your eyes when you talk about cars. It’s . . . amazing.”

I felt open, on display, like she could see inside my soul. I turned away and pretended to put a stray screwdriver back in the toolbox.

I cleared my throat. “What’s so amazing about it?”

“It’s your joy, your passion . . .” she said, then slanted her head, studying me. “Maybe even your lifeline.”

“Never thought about it that way,” I lied. Of course I had, a million times. I just didn’t know I wore my heart so openly on my sleeve. It must have just been Ella. She saw inside me, through me. Brought my passions out of me, even. Little did she realize she had influenced me to resume this project after our conversation at the car wash. To be brave. My fingers had been itching to get started since the last day of classes. “I guess in a way, it is.”

She moved closer, determination blazing in her eyes. “So why not do something about that?”

“I . . . don’t know,” I muttered. “I had planned to . . . but then everything went to shit.”

I turned away again because it all became too real. Having Ella here at my house, inside my garage, around all the things I loved. I hoped she understood how overwhelming it was. I needed to move us along.

“My father will be thrilled to see your car,” she said, and I breathed a sigh of relief at the change of topic. “He’s an aficionado.”

“I’d be honored to show him,” I said, meeting her eyes, silently thanking her for not pushing the subject.

“Come inside?” I said, moving toward the door. As I passed her, I reached for her hand and she took it willingly. It felt so natural to lead her through the kitchen and offer her something to drink.

I leaned against the counter, a water bottle in my hand. It was time to put Ella on the hot seat. “So, you didn’t tell your parents about Joel?”

“You noticed that, huh?” she bent her head, pink splotching her cheeks. “Just wasn’t ready to yet.”

“I think I can understand that,” I said. Recently, conversations with my parents consisted only of perfunctory facts.

“My parents are very involved in our lives, and even more so since . . .” She stopped suddenly and shook her head. “Never mind.”

“No, wait.” I reached for her arm feeling like she needed me close, needed my support. “Since what?”

“I don’t want to be a Debbie Downer.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I’d like to hear,” I said never feeling more like I wanted to know Ella. Really know her. After all, she was in my home, had been in my intimate space, and I felt almost as vulnerable as maybe she did in that moment.

“My brother Christopher.” Her voice was soft. As if she was revering his name. “He committed suicide when I was in high school.”

I felt a strong slice to my gut, almost like a laceration. “Damn it. I’m sorry, Ella.”

“No, it’s okay,” she said, meeting my gaze. “We’ve worked through it as a family. And I have, too. Well, as much as I can.”

I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed her and enveloped her in a tight embrace against my chest. She hesitated at first, but then wrapped her arms around my waist. Her skin was soft and warm and she smelled like almonds. In that moment, I felt like we were both in a safe and protected bubble, even though it was only supposed to be me comforting her.

My chest also ached with an insurmountable guilt. I’d been thinking about offing myself forever and here this girl had someone close to her who had actually done it. In the most fundamental sense, the most basic of truths, we had something in common. Grief, sorrow, pain. We both knew what it felt like to lose someone we loved.

Except I’d killed the person I loved. Even though it may have been an accident in some small way, I was still mostly to blame. What would she think of me if she’d known the truth? Or if she’d discovered that I’d wanted to take my own life too many times to count? Would she understand or run for the hills?

Part me of me wanted so badly to unburden myself and hope for the best. Right here and right now, while I had her in my arms. But in reality, I was still a chicken shit. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing her when I was just getting to know her.

“My parents are protective about me and the twins. We’ve always been a close family, but since that night . . . It’s understandable, really.” She pulled back to look at me. “It’s one of the reasons I’m living with Avery. I tried to stay in the dorms the first year but I was still grieving and finding my way. So I moved back. But recently, I decided it was time to live at school again.”

I couldn’t live anywhere that first year, either. I’d chosen to attend classes and then come home to barricade myself inside my room. It wasn’t until I’d had a conversation with Bastian’s father about his beloved frat house that I’d decided on a more solid plan. If I was going to live his son’s life, I needed to stop hiding every part of me and just act like I was him—all the way. Like that saying—fake it until you make it.

“So you’re afraid to tell them about Joel because you don’t want to disappoint them?”

“In a way, yes,” she said.

“I can relate to that, too.” I’d felt like a huge disappointment to my parents my entire life. Nothing I’d done had ever been good enough. So I just went through the motions, trying to find my own way. Dad would have loved a son with political aspirations. But as soon as he clued in early on that that I had no such intentions, he treated me more like a guest in his house than a son.

“Joel knows my family. My dad used to coach him and Joel used to play soccer with my brother,” she said, and I began connecting the dots a bit more. She had a hard time walking away from Joel because it’d be like walking away from her brother.

Kind of how I had to wrench myself free from Amber after seeing her all the time proved to be heartrending. She reminded me too much of Sebastian.

“So I realized one of the reasons I hung in there so long with Joel was because we had that connection.” I could feel her warm breath against shirt and my heart flapping inside my chest. “And recently, I really started to see what a flimsy connection it had been.”

I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t a fan of Joel’s, that he had been cheating on her, but she didn’t need to feel any worse about their past relationship. There was enough guilt in this room to go around and then some. We could mop it up and fill buckets with it.

“Thanks for telling me about your brother.” I pulled her close again, ran my fingers through her waves, and heard her sharp intake of breath. “And about Joel.”

She stayed perfectly still against my chest, her hands gripping my shoulders.

“You’re better off without him, you know.”

“Yeah?” Her body tensed as she waited on my response.

“Absolutely.” I pulled back and winked at her. “Okay if I take a quick shower before we go?”

“Go for it,” she said, backing away dramatically. “You do smell like a grease monkey.”

“Hey!” I grabbed her from behind and lifted her off her feet, sending her into a fit of giggles. Her laughter was infectious and I couldn’t help grinning from ear to ear. “Just don’t let my father, Mr. Serious Politician, hear you say that.”

I carried her down the hallway to the threshold of my room. She was a petite thing who just happened to have a set of tits on her that would make any man lose his breath. And damn if I didn’t dream of seeing them someday. I bet they were perfect. My forearms rested on the underside of her breasts and I pushed that thought away before she could feel how quickly a simple idea like that could arouse me.

I set her down and stepped inside my room to grab a clean pair of jeans and a button-down shirt from my closet. I figured I should dress a little nicer if I was going to Ella’s house for dinner.

I looked at the clock and stepped up my pace. “I’d offer to kick your ass in Mario Kart, but we don’t have that kind of time.”

Ella was busy looking at some books on my shelf. “I’ll take a rain check.”

“Be right back.” I strode into the bathroom and closed the door behind me, not realizing I was allowing Ella into my bedroom with my personal belongings until I was under the showerhead, soaping up. The idea of her spotting something I wasn’t ready for her to see made me wash myself a little more quickly.

As I was drying off, the thought of me behind this door completely naked with Ella on the other side made the blood to rush straight to my dick.

Wasn’t that exactly what Ella had wanted to happen the other day in my room at the frat house? If I walked out there in just this towel, would she still want me like she had then?

I hadn’t been ready to make any moves that night, but today felt more intimate. She’d trusted me enough to confide in me, to let me see her vulnerable. I felt closer to her, even more attracted to her, if that were possible. And if I didn’t stop having these thoughts, I’d have to walk out there with a raging hard-on.

Somehow, I felt lighter, freer, having her here with me. I actually allowed the possibility of getting to know her more intimately enter my mind. I hadn’t dated anyone in a very long time and I wasn’t sure if I even knew how to be with someone, or let them in. But somehow Ella made it easier to open up. I looked forward to spending the rest of the day getting to know her and her family.

When I stepped inside my room, my muscles instantly contracted. Ella stood in front of my dresser, studying snapshots in frames leftover from high school days.

Ella pointed to a picture of Sebastian and some other ballplayers. “Who are the people in this picture?”

“Just old high school friends,” I said, trying to control my breathing. I hadn’t banked on her zeroing in on anything related to Sebastian.

“And this is that girl from the parking lot at Zach’s.”

My stomach bunched into a hard ball.

Shit. Maybe bringing her here wasn’t such a great idea.

“Uh-huh,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. The picture was a generic one: just a bunch of us huddled together at a party.

“Were you in love?” Her voice was so soft I wasn’t sure if I had heard her right.

“With Amber?” I asked, having never considered the question. Sure I’d had a major crush, but the idea of being in love with her was pushing it.

Ella was still turned away from me. Like she couldn’t meet my eye as she awaited my answer. Probably because she questioned whether I still had a thing for Amber after seeing us together.

And she couldn’t have been more wrong. I didn’t have feelings for Amber.

I had feelings for Ella.

And I didn’t know what the hell to do about it. Ella was mesmerizing. A force so captivating she was difficult to resist. Like a powerful tide washing over me, pulling me under, and compelling me along a path that was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“No, I wasn’t,” I said, coming up behind her. “I’ve never been in love with anyone. Not yet.”

Her shoulders relaxed and her fists unclenched—as if she’d allowed all of her uncertainties to roll off of her.

“Look at me, Ella.”

She turned around and her eyes widened as she took in my appearance. I had on a pair of dark jeans and had draped my shirt over my shoulder, ready to be pulled on and buttoned up. My hair was combed away from my face and her eyes roamed over the curve of my jaw, down my neck and chest, making my stomach flip completely over.

Damn, she mouthed.

I cleared my throat. “What?”

“Did I say that out loud?” she said, parting her pouty mouth.

I smirked. “Either that or I read your lips.”

“It’s just . . . I’m sure you know that you’re hot, Quinn,” she said, her gaze generously roaming over me. “You have an amazing body.”

Ella’s words turned me on like no one else’s. I’d felt girls up with less provocation. And this girl had only uttered a simple sentence and I was already there. “So do you, Ella.”

She shook her head like she didn’t believe me. I closed the distance between us and gathered her face in my hands. “Don’t you realize how gorgeous you are?”

Her breaths were broken and rough as her gaze aligned with mine. I felt myself tipping, plunging—falling headlong into those ocean-blue eyes.

I ran my thumb along her bottom lip and just as I was about to throw all caution to the wind, her phone chirped—loud and insistent—penetrating our perfect little bubble.