“Okay, it’s my turn.” I pick up a card, and it’s red, so I move to the first red square.
Quinn laughs. “Your rule, and you’re the first to strip! Take it off, Lach, now!” She laughs harder, waggling her eyebrows playfully. I know it’s the alcohol helping her break out of her shell, but I’m loving this version of Quinn. I imagine that at one time, before her dickhead husband, she was like this all the time.
Reaching back, I lift and pull my shirt off my body. When she yells, “Yeah, take it off,” I playfully throw it at her, and it smacks her in the face. She giggles loudly, and I want to bottle that shit up for later.
“Wow.” Her eyes light up as she assesses my half-naked body. “You work out a lot, huh?” Her gaze drags down my chest and over my abs. I’ve never really cared what a female thought of my body. I work out because I enjoy it, and I want the art on my body to have a decent canvas. But right now, with the way she’s eyeing me, makes me damn glad I do work out.
“A few times a week. I have a gym in my building.”
She groans. “I have a gym membership, but I rarely go. I really need to change that.”
“You’re perfect the way you are,” I tell her. She rolls her eyes as if what I’m saying is bullshit. We’re going to have to work on that. If I have to tell her every day she’s fucking perfect, until she finally believes me, I will.
“What does that tattoo mean?” She leans over, and the tip of her fingernail hits the top of my ribcage. Goose bumps dot my flesh at her touch. When I glance down, I see the tattoo she’s pointing at is the one I had done after my grandfather passed away.
“When my grandfather was alive, we would go fishing every weekend on the dock behind his house.” I point at the wooden dock with the fishing pole hanging off the edge. “We would sit and talk for hours. Rarely ever caught a fish, but they were some of my best memories with him.”
“That’s really sweet. I don’t have any grandparents,” she admits sadly. “My dad’s family disowned him when they found out he was cheating on his wife, and my mom’s parents passed away when I was little.” Damn, so not only did her husband cheat, but so did her father. It’s no wonder she has a hard time opening up.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. Then to lighten the mood, I say, “You asked about my tattoo…” When she gives me a confused look, I add, “I didn’t pick up a purple card. Now I get to ask you about one.”
“Gah! Fine!” She holds out her left arm, which is covered completely by her hoodie, and lifts up her sleeve, exposing a small tattoo on her wrist. “This was my very first tattoo. Jase tattooed it on me when I was sixteen.” At a closer glance, I see it’s a small anchor with a rope wrapped around it. “Jase, Jax, and I all have the same one.”
“You guys are close, huh?”
“Yeah, until they met their significant others, we were all each other had. They’re my best friends.”
Quinn picks up a card. It’s yellow, so nothing happens except her moving. I pick up orange, so I move. Quinn goes again, picking up a blue card. The second she flips the color over, her teeth bite down on her bottom lip. She’s nervous. And suddenly I’m regretting my rule. Because while I want to kiss Quinn, I want her to want me to kiss her.
“You know what? I was just kidding about that rule.” I force out a laugh to emphasize my point.
When she looks at me, her brows are drawn together. “You don’t want to kiss me?” she asks softly, hurt evident in her tone. She continues to nibble on her bottom lip, and my heart drops into my stomach. Was it her husband who made her this insecure? She said he despised her, cheated on her with several woman. Is he the reason she’s so self-deprecating when she refers to herself? Why she thinks it’s crazy that I would want her?
Standing, I step the two feet to where she’s sitting, then crouch down so I’m eye level with her. She looks down at me as I cup her soft cheek with my callused hand and bring her face down to mine. My lips first land on the corner of her mouth, and I can feel it, she’s not breathing. She’s waiting anxiously to see what’s going to happen. I wonder if I’m the first guy to kiss her since her husband.
“Breathe,” I whisper against her lips, just before I claim her mouth. Our lips crash against each other, then part. Our tongues stroking and teasing. Our mouths moving in perfect rhythm. I can taste the sweet vodka on her tongue. I suck on it, needing more.