I tsk. “We finally had that conversation you’ve been telling me to have for years. Apparently I just needed the proper motivation to get over my bullshit and tell her the truth.”
Quinn points a finger at herself, the cutest smile on her face. “Me? I’m the motivation?”
I roll my eyes, and her smile widens. “The best motivation of my life.”
She lets out a little watery laugh, twining our fingers together. “So I lied about your career and you just lied about loving me a lot.”
I kiss her forehead. “Hey, you lied to protect me. I lied to protect myself.”
I love the little smile that tilts her lips. “I can get behind that spin.”
My forehead drops to hers and I let my lids fall closed, breathing in her citrusy scent. “I know you don’t trust love, and I get why. But trust me. Please don’t run from me again. I’ll take you back every time because I’m so pathetically in love with you, but it hurts like a bitch.”
She nods quickly. “No more running.”
My fingers twine in the soft blond hair, and she tilts her head to bring her lips to mine. It’s the softest brush of a kiss, and it’s more devastating than the most passionate of kisses we exchanged this summer.
“I love you, too,” she whispers against my lips. “Just in case you’re wondering.”
“I wasn’t,” I say, my mouth tilting up. “You’ve always been transparent as hell.”
She laughs again, light and airy—so fucking addictive—and kisses me harder, nipping at my lip before she soothes it with her tongue. I groan, grabbing her hip and pulling her toward me, nearly onto my lap.
A throat clears behind me, and I turn to find the third person in our row grimacing. “Um… do you think I could maybe take your old seat?”
Quinn buries her face in my shoulder, her whole body shaking with her silent laughter.
“28E,” I say. “The whole row’s open, so enjoy.”
“Oh, sweet,” the woman says, gathering her things from out of the pocket and slipping out of her seat.
I turn back to Quinn, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck and whispering, “I thought she’d never leave.”
Quinn giggles, her breath coasting over my lips before I capture them again. We kiss and we kiss and we kiss, and I hope this plane never lands. I’d live in this death tube thousands of feet above the earth forever if I could stay just like this.
Quinn eventually pulls back, and I grunt at the loss of contact, trying to pull her to me, but she leans back, tossing her legs over my lap. She intentionally rubs against where I’m so clearly hard, and I hiss, grabbing her knee.
“Unless you want to join the mile high club, you need to cut that out.”
She smirks, shifting against my hard cock again. “Not opposed. But before that, I wanted to tell you an idea I had for when we get home. It’ll take a lot of work over the next week before the faculty senate’s supposed to meet, but if you want to help, I’d love to do it with you.”
I can’t help the broad smile that stretches across my face, because this is everything I’ve ever wanted. The two of us, together and happy and a team.
“Put me to work, Chaos.”
36
QUINN
AUGUST — ONE WEEK UNTIL THE PRESENTATION
“Absolutely not.”
My chest caves in as we get yet another rejection from a faculty member, this time from a tenure-track professor in the creative arts department. We’ve been trying to sell our new plan for the past three days, and so far not a single person has taken the bait. We’ve approached professors of all different positions—tenured, tenure track, and instructors—and everyone has an excuse not to tie themselves to us.
We’re meeting in Colton’s office, which is about three times the size of mine. I shoot him a look from my spot across his desk and he nods slightly, giving me the reins.
I shift my chair so I’m facing Dr. Gleeson. “I know it’s a big commitment, but?—”
