In bed.
Out of, not so much.
“I’m too tired for this,” I warned him as I stepped inside and dropped my bag on my desk. I didn’t bother asking him why he was invading my privacy. It was Ollie’s style. “I was up all night cramming for finals.”
He turned, waving a piece of paper in his hand. “Who’s Quinn?”
“Give me that!” I snatched the letter from his hand. “You’re snooping through my stuff, what the fuck?”
I’d accepted that Ollie didn’t respect many boundaries, even admired it when he was spontaneously blowing me behind his dorm building, where we could have been caught—but this was over the line.
These letters were my biggest secret and my deepest shame. I treasured them and hated them in equal measure.
Looking down, I read my own handwriting.
Dear Quinn,
Why can’t I forget that kiss? Forget you. Sometimes, I think I’ve made it all up in my mind, your fragile smile and wounded eyes, the clench of my heart as I tried to kiss you better. The feelings inside me, so big they couldn’t possibly be real, and yet I can’t shake them…even with distance and time.
I want—
“—why you broke it off with me?”
I stopped reading. Ollie’s voice was suddenly sharp and clear, as if I’d just tuned in to a radio broadcast. I had no idea how long he’d been talking, his words washing over me as my pulse rushed in my head.
Carefully, I folded the letter into thirds, closing away my words. If only I could close away my feelings so easily. Right now, I wasn’t feeling much love or regret, or any of the other fifty emotions that Quinn had inspired in me.
I was mad as hell.
“No,” I said coldly. “Breaking it off implies we were together. We hooked up a few times. Not the same thing.”
Ollie was pretty, with dark hair and soft features to go with his petite form, but there was no softness in his personality. His eyes narrowed. “Fuck. You.”
“No, thanks. You can leave now.”
I sounded like a dick, but I didn’t really care. Ollie knew what we were. He was pissed I’d cut off our hookups, but we weren’t serious; we weren’t even exclusive.
“You’re pathetic,” he said, mouth twisting into a cruel sneer. “Still in love with your high school sweetheart. What’s the deal? Trying to fuck your sad little broken heart away?”
I took an angry step in his direction, and Ollie’s sense of self-preservation kicked in. He swiped the pile of letters off my desk onto the floor and darted past me. “Hey,” I snapped, stepping into the doorway as he fled into the hall. “Those letters are private. Ollie! You hear me?”
“Whatever,” he called back. “They’re not worth remembering. Neither are you.”
He took the steps, feet pounding as he raced down them. I let him go. The thought of him telling everyone the sappy shit I’d written in those letters made my stomach cramp. I was pathetic. No doubts there.
Returning to my room, I picked up each letter from the floor, stacked them neatly, and returned them to the box in my bottom desk drawer. Pathetic or not, regrettable or not, these letters were precious to me.
As my anger faded, exhaustion swept back in. I collapsed onto my bed without even removing my shoes. My last thought before sleep pulled me under was that I’d never been so ready to get the hell off campus.
I had to turn in the business proposal for my spring entrepreneurship project and take one last final tomorrow. Then my family’s cabin awaited me in the Colorado mountains.
The escape sounded like bliss.
QUINN
The airport was a madhouse. I vowed to never travel close to the holidays again. Even with more than a week before Christmas, it was insane. My phone rang as I raced across the terminal.
The phone displayed the name Ken Brooks.
“’Lo?” I gasped, out of breath. Why was I rushing? The frantic pace of the airport burrowed under my skin, urging me to hurry. But I had arrived. Sort of. I’d have to drive from Denver to Grand Lake, but that was only a little over two hours on the road.
“Hey, Quinn, I wanted to make sure you arrived safely.”
Ken’s voice was friendly. More than I deserved from a man I’d openly shunned during my teenage rebellious phase. And offering up the use of his cabin—after he and my mom split ways—definitely went above and beyond the role of former stepdad.
He’d tried so hard to make it work with Mom and me. I still felt trickles of guilt whenever I thought about the demise of their relationship. I’d put so much strain on them. Would it have ended differently if I’d been more accepting? Mom said no. She said she’d remarried too soon, that she’d been lost in grief as much as me, and that Ken had been her escape until she woke up and realized she didn’t love him like he deserved. But she’d seemed happy the brief few years they’d been together, so who could say? I wouldn’t put it past Mom to protect me from the harsh truth.
“Just got to Denver,” I said. “The plane was late taking off. But I’m going to rent a car and be on my way.”
“All right, you take care,” Ken said. “We sometimes get weather up there, so be cautious.”
“Okay, I will.” I hesitated. It was still so hard to talk to him. “Thank you for this.”
“Hey, it’s no problem at all, Quinn.”
“But I know we’re not…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence. “You didn’t have to help me, especially when I’ve been such a brat.”
“Hey now, none of that,” Ken said. “We all need help now and then. And I’ll always be here for you and your mother, if you ever need anything at all.”
Fuck. Now, I really felt shitty for how I’d treated Ken when I was part of his family. Jonas too. At the time, I’d thought Jonas was a sarcastic, smug asshole. After the kiss, I’d realized he was the only person making me react to something besides my grief. I’d been hanging on tight back then, afraid to let it go, because losing my grief would be the final step to letting my father go.
But as hard as I tried to hold on, it was like sand running through my fingers. Time heals your wounds—even when you don’t want it to.
I thanked Ken again as I followed the signs to the rental car counter.
“We look forward to seeing you soon,” he said, and my heart lurched.
“Is…everyone coming up this year?” I asked hesitantly.
I’d known I couldn’t avoid seeing the Brookses if I stayed in their cabin so close to the holidays. I’d nearly lost my nerve at the thought of seeing them again, but I’d been desperate. After the breakup with Clay, I had nowhere to go. Mom thought I was still in school, and I couldn’t face the reality of disappointing her. I didn’t want to run home to her, even if it would be comforting to be in her presence, especially at Christmas. I wanted to get my head on straight, get set up with a job, and then break the news.
When I saw the job opening in Grand County and managed to score an interview, it had felt like serendipity. I’d decided to swallow my pride and go for it. I wouldn’t find a better opportunity as a college drop-out.