My knee is bent, and my sneaker is tucked behind me, resting on the wall under the counter for support. My hair has slipped free from my messy ponytail.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, my eyes never leaving the drawing.
“It’s because you’re beautiful,” he replies, matching my tone.
This explains our conversation at the gym when he pinpointed who I am just by watching me when I let my guard down. I am so out of my element and don’t know how to respond. So I do the only thing that feels natural, I kiss Quinn.
I put as much passion and appreciation into the kiss to show him the words I cannot speak. And he returns my passion, my appreciation, kiss for kiss.
Placing a warm palm on my cheek, he cradles my face closer to his, kissing me like I’m his salvation and he’ll expire without me. I pla
