Future Daysby Pearl Jam
The last time Quinn had been in my house, I’d been in agony, wanting her and yet knowing the timing wasn’t right yet. So as I led her up the steps and to my front door, I was determined to erase all the bad memories and replace them with only good ones.
Before I turned the doorknob, I paused, gazing down at her. “The day I found this townhouse, I’d been looking at places all day. My mom was with me. Everyone had told me not to buy right away, in case I didn’t last the season in Richmond or if I got traded or whatever, but I had a hunch. I knew I wanted to buy a place to live and not be just renting. I was ready for something permanent.”
She nodded, expectant.
“I couldn’t put my finger on why none of the houses seemed quite right. Then I realized it was because I couldn’t seeyouin any of them. When I stood here for the first time, though, I turned around and looked at the neighborhood, the front lawn ... the view.” I steered Quinn by the shoulders, pulling her back against me and pointing. “Look. We’re on a hill here, and you can see for a pretty fair distance.”
“Ohhh, yes,” she breathed out. “And wow, some of the trees are already beginning to change. I bet it’s beautiful at the height of leaf peeping season.”
“It is. Anyway, I thought,Quinn would love this view and this porch.” I motioned to the empty space. “I could just imagine us putting a porch swing right there and you having a place to curl up and read.”
“It would be perfect.” She smiled. “I’d bring my coffee out here and just read in the peace and quiet.”
Pushing open the door, I stood back so she could walk ahead of me. I dropped my duffel bag by the hallway arch and pulled Quinn into the great room with me.
“I loved the entry right away, and then I stepped in here. When I saw the fireplace, I imagined sitting with you here on winter evenings, talking about our days and making out in front of a roaring fire.”
She tilted her head up to smirk at me. “Ah. And in this fantasy, do we have a bear skin rug?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Um, no. That sounds like it would itch. I was thinking a big, thick quilt or something. And lots of pillows.”
Quinn laughed. “Duly noted. And this is a beautiful room. I remember thinking that the night I was here.”
I sighed. “The night you were here, I wanted to throw you down in front of the fireplace, quilt or no quilt. I showed a lot of restraint.” And I had to exercise just a little bit more of that now, too. “Come on. The tour isn’t over yet.”
Next we stopped in the dining room. “In here, I could see you sitting next to me when we had people over for dinner. A couple of teammates, maybe. And I pictured you sliding off your shoes under the table and rubbing my leg with your foot ... you know, just a little tease. And then when our company left, I’d help you clear off the table, and we’d go into the kitchen ...” I tugged her by the hand into the kitchen that had made my mom gasp when she’d seen it the first time.
Stainless steel appliances, marble countertops and a wide tile floor accented a room that was bigger by half than most of the other kitchens in this neighborhood. My mom had put a small table for two in the nook by the bay window that looked out over the deck and my massive backyard.
“See that, there? That’s where I saw us eating breakfast every morning.” I spun her to stand against the island countertop. “But back to what we’d be doing after a dinner party. We’d carry in the plates, see, put them in the sink, and then—” I took a step closer and slid my hands to her hips, plastering my body against hers. “And then I’d lift you up onto the counter.” I matched my actions to my words and positioned myself between her legs, rubbing her jeans-covered thighs. “And I’d take advantage of the perfect height here to kiss you hard and cop a feel of these luscious tits.”
Quinn’s cheeks flushed pink, and she shifted restlessly, a sure sign that she was insanely turned on. I remembered that.
“And then what would happen? Would you help me finish cleaning up?”
I slowly shook my head. “No. Well, not then. I’d pick you up, carry you to the bedroom and ... let’s just say the dishes would wait until the next morning.”
“Oh.” She wound her arms around my neck and rested her forehead against mine. “Leo?”
“Yeah?” It was so easy to get lost in her eyes. I was nearly drowning.
“Is the tour finished?”
I moved my head side to side. “Not quite yet. I need to show you the room that sold me on this house. It’s a room you didn’t see when you were here before.”
“Okay.” She made as if to slide off the counter, but I caught her, scooping her easily into my arms.
“Allow me. This is part of the tour, you know. All part of the service.” I strode to the hallway, pausing only to dip down and snag my duffel as we passed.
With a few more steps, we were just outside my bedroom. I paused to draw in a deep breath before I nudged open the door. This was it. These next few moments were for all the marbles. And I needed to seriously rock everything I said and did.
“Oh, Leo.” Quinn’s mouth dropped open a little as she took in the master bedroom. It was large, but more striking than that was its shape, which was almost pentagonal. One wall boasted another fireplace, this one smaller than that in the living room. The bed was pushed up against another, and the rest was all glass, floor-to-ceiling windows and a set of French doors that led to a small private terrace, surrounded by a high stone wall to keep it hidden from the rest of the world.
Opposite the wall of windows, the room opened to a smaller sitting area and a spacious bathroom. It included a dressing table and a lighted walk-in closet.
“I could see you in here most.” I made a slow spin to give her the whole effect. “I saw this as our oasis. The whole house is that, I guess, but for me, no matter what else is going on in our lives, this is the place where you and I can always beus. Not Leo Taylor, tight end for the Richmond Rebels. Not Quinn Russell, hotshot journalist. Not the Trio. Just ... us. You and me.”
