Love in Slow Motion

24. Reed

24 REED

After my conversation with Chase, I’m feeling raw. I have these moments sometimes. I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s like I’ve stepped outside of my body. I don’t feel like myself, more like I’m just observing my shell as it goes through the motions of life.

That’s what it felt like to hear what Chase did, to hear my brother speak about someone he’s supposed to care about as if she was just something to be tossed aside to make way for his instant gratification. Because the only way to cope with the knowledge that someone you once trusted and respected so fully is actually utter shit is to watch it happen like a TV show.

I float through an afternoon at the pool, then dinner, and then an action-adventure movie that Mom picks, until she decides she wants to go to bed early, and Sabrina raises a knowing eyebrow at me.

“Wanna shoot pool?” she says, her toned arms spread along the back of the couch. She taps her manicured nails along the fabric. I know that agreeing to play a game of pool with Sabrina is a death sentence. The only truly annoying thing about Sabrina is the fact that she’s good at everything, including pool.

I groan. “I don’t know if I feel like getting my ass kicked tonight.”

Sabrina’s arms drop to her sides. “Aw, come on, Reed. We’ll play teams. I’ll take Quinn.”

Quinn scowls. “Hey!”

Sabrina sends her an innocent smile. “Sorry, babe, but you know how it is.”

I bite back a smile. I’ve never played pool with Quinn, but I’m guessing Sabrina has in the past, and I’m also guessing she’s not very good at it. I would gladly have Quinn on my team, but I know it’ll be easier for her to team up with Sabrina.

“Okay,” I tell Sabrina, and she squeals and jumps to her feet. We all follow her down to the basement, where the pool table is pushed into one corner of the living room. I move straight to the rack and grab a cue stick in each hand. When I feel someone come up behind me, I reach behind me to hand them a cue stick. Soft, warm fingers brush against mine, and I turn my head in time to see Quinn watch her hand engulf mine. She takes the cue stick, her cheeks turning pink, her hand sliding away slowly.

My God, I want her.

Chase appears over her shoulder, and I turn quickly, taking a deep breath as I grab another cue stick for Sabrina.

“Not gonna lie,” Quinn says, sounding much more normal than I feel at the moment, “I might need someone to remind me of the rules.”

Chase laughs. “Geez. This is going to be an easy win.”

I roll my eyes and turn back to the table. Over in the corner, Chase and Sabrina are bickering about something, so I set the table, racking the balls. Quinn joins me, picking balls out of the pockets and bringing them to me.

“I’m really, really bad at pool,” she says, quiet enough that I can tell she doesn’t want the others to hear.

She glances sideways at me, and the sound of Chase and Sabrina arguing dies away when I see the question in her eyes. We haven’t gotten to talk all day, at least not in any meaningful way, haven’t gotten to talk about what happened between us last night. I glance over to make sure Chase is preoccupied and then let my eyes fall down Quinn’s body, over the curves of her in her cute little sundress. I have to fight away the image that forms in my head of me bending her over this table, lifting the skirt, and fucking her senseless.

When my eyes find hers again, she’s blushing, her eyes quickly dropping to my mouth and back up. We haven’t had a discussion about what we are, what we’re doing, what last night meant. We both just know it happened, and I don’t know about her, but I want it to happen again.

“Just make sure you have a strong stance and that you line your body up with the shot. Confidence is key. Don’t let Chase bully you.”

I pull the rack away from the balls and send her a wink. When she smiles at me, I know that even if nothing else ever happens between us, Quinn and I will be okay. I don’t want to be without her ever again for the rest of my life, but if I can even just have her as a friend, that’ll be enough.

“Okay, let’s get this party started,” Chase says, coming around the side of the table while Sabrina stays where she is, her arms crossed in irritation. If there was ever someone Chase was unable to charm, it’s Sabrina.

I move around the table, putting space between Quinn and me just as Chase saddles up to her. He stands so close to her that there’s no space between their bodies. They’re pressed from shoulder to hip and Chase puts his arm around her, settling his fingers on her waist.

“Did Reed remind you how to play?” he asks her.

“Yep!” she lies, casually moving away from him to the other side of the table. “Who breaks?”

Halfway to empty on the table, it becomes pretty clear that Sabrina has made a huge mistake bringing Quinn onto her team. Chase and I together are mediocre at best, but the two of us are enough to put the girls to shame because Quinn can’t hit a ball to save her life.

I’m loving it because watching Quinn bend over, driving me absolutely mad in her little sundress and then flying right past a ball that should have been an easy hit, is making this day easier to bear. She’s sexy as fuck and also absolutely adorable.

Chase is also loving it because he also can’t seem to keep his eyes off Quinn, a fact that I’ve had to ignore because I can’t very well pummel him for looking at his own wife, or at least as far as Sabrina is concerned. He’s also gloating like a fucking twit over the fact that we’re winning.

Sabrina, however, looks like she’s being strapped in for brain surgery. Sabrina hates to lose, mostly because she’s not used to it.

And it’s just as Chase is lining up his next shot, a shot that’s going to perfectly sink two balls if he can manage to do it just right, his arm cocked back, that a loud, long, highly erotic moan rips through the mostly quiet room.

Chase’s elbow jerks, the stick goes left, and he misses the shot entirely.

The sound vanishes.

All eyes go to Sabrina, who’s tapping away at her phone. The sound of the moan seems to still be echoing in the air even as she smiles and puts her phone into her back pocket. She cocks her head and looks right at Chase. “What?” she says innocently.

“What the hell was that?” Chase stomps over to her and tries to snatch her phone out of her back pocket, but she dodges him and presses her back to the wall.

“It’s nothing.”

Chase scowls. “I thought you were above resorting to cheating.”

Sabrina smiles. “Well, you were wrong.”

While Chase’s back is still turned, Quinn lines up a shot. I reach over and adjust her arm so that she’s straight, pulling her elbow back quickly, even as Sabrina’s eyes travel over Chase’s shoulder to catch me.

Quinn shoots and sinks one.

At the sound, Chase spins around, making a choking noise. Sabrina steps around him, quickly lines up a shot, and sinks it.

“That’s not fair!” Chase says, sounding like an actual six-year-old.

Sabrina grins at Quinn, motioning for her to take her spot at the table. Quinn’s eyes meet mine, and I see the hesitation in them. She doesn’t know what I did earlier to fix her posture, so she doesn’t know how to recreate it. I smile back at her and shrug.

Chase scoffs. “Who’s fucking team are you on, Reed?”

Planting her cue stick on the ground like she just left her flag at the top of Everest, Sabrina says, “Chase, would you like me to get you a drink? It might help you unclench a little bit.”

It’s such an obvious ploy to get Chase to overdo it, but Chase doesn’t seem to care. He’s practically sniffing the air as Sabrina walks over to the small, self-serve bar in the corner and pulls out two glasses.

Quinn shoots. She’s all twisted in the wrong shape and sends a ball spinning to the right that should have gone straight. She grimaces and straightens away from the table.

“Better luck next time,” I say to her, and she narrows her eyes at me, moving out of the way so that I can take my shot. I lean over the table and line it up. I’m just about to slip the cue stick forward when something bumps it hard, knocking it completely out of whack.

I shoot up and spin around. Quinn leans against the wall behind me, a smirk on her face as she examines her nails.

“Oh, I didn’t realize we were playing it that way,” I say to her, biting back a smile.

She shrugs, her eyes lifting to mine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Are we fucking playing or not?” Chase asks. I look over at him in time to see him toss back at least three fingers of whiskey.

“Jesus,” I say. “Are you going to be able to tell all the balls apart?”

Chase scoffs. “Are you so much of a lightweight that one drink would double your vision?”

I raise my eyebrows at him as he turns to fix himself another drink. I look over at Sabrina, and she just snickers, getting ready to take her turn. With her attention diverted, I turn back to Quinn. She’s watching me quietly, her dark eyes giving nothing away.

“Drink?” I ask her.

She shakes her head.

I turn to the bar, and as I pass Quinn, with my heart racing, I put my hand out and let my fingers slowly trail along the bare skin of her thigh just below the hem of her dress. I hear the quiet intake of her breath but keep moving. I keep my back to her as I pour myself a drink, the tips of my fingers buzzing from the thrill of getting to caress her skin.

I want her to know that she can have whatever she wants from me. I want her to know that I want her, that I want more, and that I’ll be waiting for her tonight if she wants more, too.

I turn and lean against the wall beside the bar. Sabrina is still making quick work of the pool table, Chase is watching her with a sour expression, and Quinn’s eyes are glued to me. I hold her gaze over the rim of my glass as I take a drink, loving the look of her as I taste the sweet whiskey sliding down my throat. The air between us crackles, like the air before lightning strikes, and only we can feel it.

“There it is, ladies and gentlemen,” Sabrina says after she pockets the 8-ball. She plants a hand on her hip and grins at the three of us. Honestly, she might be just as bad as Chase is when it comes to gloating over pool, even when she and Quinn blatantly cheated.

“Doesn’t even count,” Chase says.

Sabrina rolls her eyes and leaves her cue stick in the middle of the table, ever accustomed to having someone clean up after her. “Don’t be such a sore loser,” she says, turning toward the stairs.

“I’m not a sore loser; you’re just a cheater.” Chase follows her to the stairs, and then the two of them wait at the bottom, both of them still going on about whether or not the girls cheated as Quinn starts to tidy up.

“Leave it,” I say, walking toward her.

She pulls her hands away from the pool table quickly, like she got caught doing something she shouldn’t.

Without another word, I down the rest of my whiskey and brush past her, letting my hand graze hers for a split second. I watch from the open door of my bedroom as Quinn joins Sabrina and Chase, glancing over at me one last time before the three of them go upstairs.