Before You Break: Between Breaths Page 3

  And more. So much more.

  She was only wearing a T-shirt and pink skimpy underwear. No bra. And her damn sexy voice telling me how good the wet washcloth felt against her skin almost made me come unglued.

  And those legs. Strong and shapely. They could wrap around my waist so easily. With that dragonfly tattoo on her ankle that I wanted to know more about.

  For a brief moment I imagined Ella being stone-cold sober, begging me to kiss her, touch her, and be inside her.

  She’d have to be sober for me to touch her. She’d also have to ditch Joel. No way would I get myself involved in something like that again. Keeping things on the down low wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. It hurt people. Even killed them. And you paid for that shit.

  You paid every single day for that shit.

  Fuck. I couldn’t even believe I was entertaining thoughts like that about this girl.

  Someone else’s girl.

  And then Ella started talking again. Her voice was soft and breathy. Like fingernails raking through my hair and then down my back.

  I needed to cut that crap out.

  Damn, I should’ve been glad she couldn’t see my raging hard-on.

  “You know that feeling at the beginning of a relationship with someone?” she asked. “When you’re excited to talk to them, see them, and spend time with them? And you absolutely know the feeling is mutual? At least, at first?”

  “Yeah, I do,” I said, thinking about the couple of girls I’d dated over the years.

  “Is that what you were hinting at before . . . before you stopped yourself?” She rolled her head to the other side and her hand came up to rub her temple. I reached over to do it for her before my fingers fell short. I needed to stop touching her before I started liking it too much.

  “Maybe. I just think . . .” I rushed my fingers through my hair. “If you’re going to be with somebody, then really be with them, you know? And if you have doubts or change your mind, don’t string them along. Talk to them about it.”

  “Is that what you think Joel is doing—stringing me along?” She sounded hurt, like a wounded animal. And I didn’t want to be the one to make her feel that way.

  “Hell if I know,” I said. “That’s for you guys to figure out. I just know it should be him in here, not me. And maybe . . . maybe you should tell him that.”

  “How would you do things differently? If you were with . . . a girl.” She seemed hesitant asking me. Shit. Did she wonder if I was gay, too?

  Or maybe she just felt she was overstepping bounds.

  If anyone had disregarded boundaries tonight, it was me. I hoped she’d stop asking me questions about Joel. Joel was not Sebastian. I just wished I’d had the courage to speak up to Sebastian sooner.

  Before I ruined his life. His family’s life. My life.

  “First, I’d make sure the girl was worth it,” I said trying to hide the bitterness in my voice. It wasn’t totally Amber’s fault. I was just a weak-ass fool.

  “What do you mean?” she sounded so sleepy. Good thing, because that was the extent of the talking I was willing to do about any of that.

  “How about I tell you another time and you try to close your eyes for a bit?”

  She mumbled something else and then all I heard were her soft breaths.

  Before I knew it, my eyes drifted closed as well.

  I jerked awake a while later. My neck was stiff from falling asleep against the wall and my legs felt tight and tense.

  Ella had somehow managed to prop her head against my leg. And shit if my hand wasn’t tangled in the back of her hair. It was soft and shiny, even though it looked like a long knotted mess in some spots.

  What the fuck? Anyone could have walked in here and seen us. And I hoped to hell no one had. Or used their phone to take a photo or some other shit.

  I carefully moved her head off my leg and then sprang to my knees. I should have done this an hour ago and been asleep in my own bed by now. I lifted Ella into my arms and then carried her to Joel’s room. My forearm was beneath her ass, but I ignored the feel of her skin against mine.

  The house was so quiet I doubted anyone had been up. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Ella shifted in her sleep and draped her arm around my neck. Her head was against my lips and hell if I didn’t take a quick whiff of her hair. And damn if she didn’t smell like almond shampoo.

  Joel didn’t stir when we inched inside the room. I slid her down next to him and got the hell out of Dodge.

  Chapter Five

  Ella

  Joel’s loud snores woke me out of a deep sleep. How did I get back in his bed? I vaguely remembered being in Quinn’s arms and fitting snugly against his hard chest. He smelled spicy and woodsy mixed together. Different from Joel, who, lately, smelled like beer and weed.

  Heat crept up my cheeks when I remembered that Quinn saw me practically naked. I shot straight up in bed and then squeezed closed my eyes as the room tilted at a severe angle.

  Quinn also said some things about Joel. Stuff I already knew but was afraid to admit.

  I stood on shaky legs to gather my clothes. My stomach growled in protest to last night’s events. I needed to eat something. And soon.

  “Joel,” I whispered in his ear while nudging him. “Want to get some breakfast?”

  “Just wanna sleep.” He smashed his pillow over his head. “You go. And bring me back something.”

  Anger flared in my gut. “I’ll just go home to eat. I’ll call you later.”

  I quickly changed and sprinted out the back door, thankful I didn’t run into anybody on my way out.

  When I walked through the apartment door, Avery was sitting in her blue scrubs on the couch, a cup of coffee in her hand. The distinct smell of nail polish remover was in the air, making my stomach curdle.

  Avery refused to let me pay rent. She’d convinced me to move in, telling me I’d be helping her out, since she was always at Bennett’s place and her lease wasn’t up for another few months. So I paid for the groceries and utilities.

  She’d admitted she wasn’t comfortable alone in her apartment anymore since her mother’s ex-boyfriend had tried breaking in last fall. Even though he was now serving time on an attempted rape and assault charge, she’d said living here would never be the same.

  “Thank God you made coffee.” I sagged against the door frame.

  “Good morning to you, too, bitch,” she said, a mischievous grin on her face.

  “Yeah whatever, dill weed, just tell me there’s milk for cereal.”

  “Of course. You know I rarely drink it,” she said, propping her brightly painted toes on the table in front of her. “You look like shit. What the hell happened last night?”

  I stalked to the kitchen like a girl determined to eat after a week in the desert. “I drank one too many on an empty stomach and then got sick.” I pulled down a mug and a bowl from the cupboard.

  “What’d you do, puke on Joel?” she asked, admiring her paint job by wiggling her toes. “I would’ve liked to have seen that.”

  “Actually, Joel was passed out,” I said, reaching for the milk. “But I did almost puke on Quinn.”

  “Quinn?” she asked twisting to look at me. “Star catcher for TSU, Quinn?”

  “Yep.” My cheeks flushed remembering our night spent in the bathroom. The floor was gross, the lights dim, but Quinn’s voice was warm, sweet, and all kinds of sexy.

  She snapped her fingers and motioned to the cushion beside her. “Details now, asshead.”

  I moseyed toward the couch with a full bowl and propped my knee on the arm of the chair.

  “I was struggling to make it to the bathroom,” I said around a mouthful of cereal. Raisin Bran never tasted so damn good. “He kind of helped me. Even wet a washcloth for me.”

  “Seriously?” she asked, one eyebrow arched. “I can tell you’re holding something back. Spill.”

  “It’s just . . .” I huffed out a breath. “It was a strange night. He staye
d in the bathroom with me and we kind of . . . talked.”

  She twisted her bottom lip, calling bullshit. My trademark tell. “That’s all that happened?”

  “Of course,” I said, after gulping some milk from my bowl. “Do you think I’d actually cheat on Joel? Besides, it wasn’t like that. It was sweet.”

  “Oh, I trust you. It’s the other guy I’m not sure about,” she said folding her arms. “It’s just that you sound kinda breathy talking about Quinn. Did we develop a crush on him while puking in the bathroom?”

  “Yeah, like that’d be possible.” It actually might have been possible, but I wasn’t going to tell Avery that. “It was embarrassing.”

  Then my hands felt all clammy. “Know what else was humiliating?”

  Avery went back to wiggling her pink toes. “What?”

  “I only had on a T-shirt and underwear and I pretty much flashed him my ass a few times,” I said, setting my bowl on the counter. “And not on purpose.”

  “Oh, I bet he got an eyeful. I wish I had your ass, girl.” Then her mouth drew into a thin line. “Did he try anything with you?”

  “No way. That’s the sweet part. He told me to pull my shirt down and even pulled it down once for me,” I said, plopping down on a kitchen barstool. “Said he didn’t want to leave me in the bathroom alone with all the horny guys in the house.”

  “Really?” Avery said, dipping her head back to look at me. “Quinn just scored a few points on the good-guy meter.”

  “He also said some stuff about Joel.” Shoot. Why had I let that slip out? Joel was already on Avery’s shit list for acting like a douche the last few weeks.

  She twisted to give me her full attention. “What did he say?”

  My voice came out sounding strangled. Even I didn’t want to admit it out loud. “He . . . kind of said that Joel wasn’t that great of a boyfriend because he was passed out in the next room.”

  She aimed her nail file at me. “He’s got a point, you know.”

  “I know how you feel about Joel,” I griped. “We’ve definitely got stuff to work out. It wasn’t always like this.”

  “I’ll admit I liked him at the beginning. He seemed really into you. But lately . . .” She gave me a stern look. “The question is: How do you feel about him?”

  I rinsed my bowl in the sink, feeling full and satiated. “I don’t know anymore.”

  “Girl, you might be loyal to a fault. You need to take care of you.”

  “I know,” I said, pulling down the dishwasher drawer.

  “Out of all of us, you have your head screwed on straight,” she said. “The way you worked through what happened with your brother . . .”

  She stared at the wall, contemplating her next words. I leaned again the counter, wondering where she was going with this. Avery knew me better than anyone, outside of my family.

  “I know I rag on you for your psycho bullshit, but I realize you take it seriously. And it’s helped you work through stuff.”

  “Which reminds me . . .” I pushed off the counter and then plopped down on the cushy chair across from Avery. “There was a guy who called the hotline last night.”

  I laid my head against the arm of the chair, thinking about Daniel. “He reminded me of Christopher.”

  “Sometimes I wonder if the hotline is such a good idea,” Avery said. “For Christ’s sake, you had a brother who committed suicide in high school, Ella. Don’t be such a fucking martyr.”

  My hand absently ran over the dragonfly tattoo that Avery’s boyfriend, Bennett, designed for me last fall, in memory of Christopher.

  “You’re wrong, Avery,” I said, raising my head. On this fact I was emphatic. “Working there has been so rewarding. I want . . . I need to help people.”

  “Okay. Okay,” she said, lifting her hands. We’d had this discussion too many times to count. “I should know better than to argue mental health with you. I’m way out of my league.”

  A key scraped in the door, and I knew it was Bennett. The guy was pretty dreamy, I’d give him that. And if I was being honest with myself, Joel had nothing on him. Sure, Joel was cute and a decent kisser, but he wasn’t straight-out sexy like Bennett was.

  Or Quinn.

  Where in the hell had that thought come from?

  His height, his muscled forearms from baseball, his fit stomach and calves. I had always noticed him peripherally, but being in that bathroom with him had given me a more solid perspective of him. Not physically speaking, because I couldn’t see him. But I certainly could feel him. His presence. He had a quiet kind of intensity that made me feel safe and warm.

  In all the wrong places.

  Joel was thin, without an ounce of fat on him. And it wasn’t that I was fat, but I had hips and breasts and wished my stomach were as flat as Avery’s. If I worked out like she did, I might get rid of it, but I’d never been one to love physical exertion.

  I’d also never been one to care about body type, but there was just something so appealing about Quinn. The way he moved, carried himself, with this gentle confidence. It was different from Joel, who was almost cocky.

  “Hi, Ella.” Bennett plopped down on the couch next to Avery and pulled her into a steamy kiss. Damn, they were annoying to be around. Hadn’t they just seen each other a few minutes ago?

  Avery pulled away, breathless. And then gave me a devilish grin. “What do you know about Quinn from the frat house, baby?”

  I shot her a dirty look.

  “The dude who plays baseball for TSU?” Bennett shrugged. “Why don’t you ask your friend Rachel? Aren’t athletes her specialty?”

  My stomach twisted at his words. Crap. I hadn’t thought of that. She did like her jocks, and she wasn’t choosy.

  Avery gave Bennett a pointed look that he seemed to understand. I wish Joel and I had a secret language we connected on. We didn’t connect on much of anything lately. Maybe we never really had. I’d clung to Joel like he was my next breath, especially after I found out he’d known my brother. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that so blindly.

  Bennett mouthed Sorry and then turned to me. “You know who would know? Nate. Ask him.”

  Nate was Bennett’s friend. And he spent lots of time at frat house parties. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to go around asking people about Quinn, like I had some lovesick crush or something. I had a relationship to worry about. To work out, if I could.

  “No thanks. I am not on some mission to find out more about Quinn, for God’s sake.” I headed to my bedroom to jump in the shower.

  I realized Joel probably didn’t know a whole lot about Quinn, either, despite living with him. Which made him all the more mysterious.

  Chapter Six

  Quinn

  The bleachers were beginning to fill. I slid on my catcher’s mask and headed to the batter’s box to take more practice pitches from McGreevy. He was a damn good pitcher, had a killer curveball. But it was supposed to be Sebastian up there.

  Bastian and I would practice for hours at Miller Park in our neighborhood after high school ball games. His fastball had probably been the best in the state, had even earned him a scholarship. I’d had to work a bit harder to earn my position on the team. I never had the kind of heart and natural talent for the game that he did.

  Truth be told, there was a time that I would’ve rather been under the hood of a car than on a dusty field. It’s not like baseball wasn’t in my blood. It definitely was. The sound of the bat cracking, the murmur of the crowd as the ball hung midair over the outfield. You had to like baseball to play it so damn much.

  I just didn’t have a constant hard-on for it like my other teammates. I didn’t want to make it my career. But I was good at it, and I could stand being on a team from season to season.

  Working solo on an engine or a custom paint job had been my passion. My dream. My lifeline. Until the summer after high school.

  “McGreevy, let Smithy take a few rounds of practice,” Coach yelled from the dugout. Then he trained h
is eyes on me. “You good, Quinn?”

  I stood to give my knees a break and nodded. Coach had complimented me privately on my dedication to the game. Said he admired my drive. If only he knew I was carrying the load of two players. Me, and one who should have been a star pitcher on his team.

  I looked up at the stands just as my parents were headed to their seats. They came to a home game every few weeks. Not to actually see their only child pay, but to keep up appearances. My father wanted it to look like he actually cared about his family while he tried to renew his seat in the House of Representatives. He was gunning for senator next and had some scary pipe dream to make it all the way to the presidency.

  Mom loved being a politician’s wife, so sometimes my only escape from that cold and empty home had been to go to Sebastian’s house. His family was in politics, too. My father had helped Bastian’s father win his seat in a landslide. The difference was: They were warm, open, real.

  As Smithy took the mound, I gave the bleachers one last glance. Sebastian’s mom waved at me and I tipped my head in her direction. The grief was still apparent in her eyes and the lines of her face almost three years later. She was hanging in there, trying to make it day-to-day, and that killed me.

  When I saw Amber was with them today, my throat closed up. I struggled to swallow.

  I hoped she wouldn’t try to corner me again. I had no desire to talk to her, to have a powwow about what had happened that night. She insisted she needed to talk and I kept saying no. I knew she was only trying to alleviate her own guilt.

  She was a pretty girl with her red hair and tight body. I may have had feelings for her a couple of years ago, but there was no way that I did now.

  But she was still trying to keep up appearances with Bastian’s parents. Showing up here, pretending like she and Sebastian hadn’t been about to break up, that that one night hadn’t changed everything.

  Every single fucking thing.

  Could I blame her, though? I was pretending, too.

  Still, I wanted nothing to do with her.

  I noticed my frat brothers on the other side of the stands as well. They attended the home games to show school spirit with our sister sorority. But this time I zeroed in on Ella, sitting next to Brian’s girlfriend, Tracey. That was nothing new. She’d spent a few Saturdays at this ball field with Joel and his friends.