“You have nothing to worry about. I’ll always look after her, Sophie. I love her.”
The words fell out of my mouth without restraint and a grin stretched across Sophie’s face.
I loved her. It was true. I loved Quentin Scott.
Weeks of feeling off balance, of trying to decipher the strange emotion in my heart, boiled down to one simple fact. I loved her more than I’d ever loved anything in my life. No amount of power, no devastating destruction caused by my hands, could compare to how she made me feel.
Erik was going to have a fucking field day when he found out.
“Have you told her?” Sophie asked.
“No.”
“You should.”
I shrugged and drank the rest of my coffee. I didn’t want to discuss it. I’d heard Quentin say the words when she was practically asleep. Admitting it to her without knowing the depth of her feelings was a risk I wasn’t sure I wanted to take.
“I’ll think about it.”
By the time the siblings returned to the house, it was late, and I was helping Sophie in the kitchen as she prepared dinner. She’d coaxed me into an apron that said ‘hot stuff cooking’ and I did what she asked.
I noticed Quentin standing at the door, watching us with an odd expression on her face. I held an arm out to her, and she walked over, burying herself in my side.
“You could have told me,” I whispered.
“I know. I just didn’t know how.”
“Quen, I’ll always be here for you.”
“I know you will,” she said, reaching up to kiss me. “Hot stuff.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
We laid in bed later in the evening. I’d given her the left side, and she was tucked in against me. My fingers inched their way under her shirt and brushed against the skin of her thigh and hip, making her flush with goosebumps.
“I’m not sure what to say.”
“Tell me about them.”
She took a deep breath and thought for a while before opening up.
“I was so scared when they first adopted me. I was only ten, and we’d met and spoken, but this was different. I thought maybe they’d made a mistake. The first few nights after the adoption, I couldn’t sleep because the fear was so real. Cried my eyes out because I thought maybe they’d return me.
“They did everything they could with us. For us. Dad was easy-going. He was old records and lazy Sunday morning brunches. He thought he could be a gardener, but killed everything he touched when it came to plants. I loved both my parents, but I spent a lot of my spare time with Dad, learning things from him. He was interested in research and introduced me to that side of things.”
“And your mother?” I asked.
“She was amazing. I don’t think I know anyone who could organise their life the way she did. Mum worked hard, but she was there for me and Cass. Bedtime stories and helping with homework. She was definitely more of the rule enforcer.”
Quentin laughed then, kicking my heart from its steady rhythm, and I watched her features brighten.
“Mum wanted to make sure there were rules, but Dad was always teaching us how to bend them.”
Her fingers traced numbers again and again across my chest. One. Four. Three.
I pulled her in close. “Do you —” I started and then thought better of it.
“What is it?”
