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I nodded. “Thank you. I’m…I’m sorry.”
“Hey.” He took my hand and kissed the back of it. “I’m into you, okay? I’m patient. Someday, we can tell him.”
“How are you not worried about hockey with us?”
“What’s there to worry about?” He gripped the wheel and wouldn’t glance at me. “Quentin isn’t going to be on the ice a lot, and even if he were, he’s not… it doesn’t matter. I’m not worried about the team at all.”
“What do you mean he’s not?”
“Baby, please don’t do this, not now.” His face was pained. “Go talk to your brother, but I’m gonna wait here for ten minutes. Call me if you need me, okay?”
“Okay.” I gripped the door handle but then leaned over and kissed him. “I’m, uh, into you too.”
“Don’t make me blush,” he teased, and that joke made everything all better. My time with him wasn’t coming to an end yet.
I waved before jumping out of the truck, still far enough that Quentin didn’t see how I would’ve arrived. I had no idea how long he’d stood out there, but when he saw me, he pushed off the wall and hobbled toward me. “What are you?—”
“Can we talk?” he interrupted me, his gaze frantically moving over my face. “I can take your bag. Here.”
He yanked it from my shoulder, almost too hard, because it hurt my skin, and he cussed. “I’m sorry. Shit.”
“It’s fine.” I took my keycard out and opened the door to my building. He followed, not saying a word. Usually, he chatted nonstop. Mainly about himself. Or hockey. Or his friends.
Now, it was silence.
God, when was the last time things were actually good between us? Four years ago? I didn’t know, but I was so tired of the façade. Being with Theo retaught me how to have fun and find joy. Quentin hadn’t been someone who brought me joy, not in a while.
“Can I come in?”
“You’re asking?” I fired back. He’d usually barge in without pausing. Like his presence was a gift to me. Unlocking the door, I pushed it open, and he followed.
“Do I, uh, not normally ask you?”
I shook my head and crossed my arms. “Why are you here? I asked you to leave me alone.”
His face twisted in pain as he ran a hand over it. “You saw me and mom.”
Fuck. The way my stomach caved had me grip the side of my chair, and I sat. I nodded. Despite there being a few days of distance, the image still hurt so badly. I lost my parent, and Quentin still had his.
“That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Clearly.”
“No, it’s not like that, Audrey.” He sat on the edge of my bed, gripping his head in his hands.
“What is it like then? I’d love to know. Mom only talks to me when she needs money. Did you know that? Every week she texts or calls me and demands money and tells me I’m selfish. I sent her the money that probably paid for your stupid dinner.”
His eyes widened and he gasped. “What?”
I wasn’t done. “You act like I have no life and will just cater my schedule to yours. I don’t want to be in a family where no one loves me anymore.”
“That’s…dramatic and not fucking true.”
“Yes, it is.” I swallowed and held my own. “When was the last time you asked me to do something I wanted to do? Do you even know what I like? Do you ever ask about how I am or what I’m doing? Never. Not once. I tell you I don’t want to talk, and you bombard my phone, disrespecting what I asked. Even now, I said I wanted distance, and you show up at my place. This isn’t what family does. It’s not even what friends do. I think… I think you need to leave. I don’t want to see you.”
“But you’re my sister.”
“Yeah, but being related doesn’t mean shit.” I held it together. I didn’t cry. No tears. “I’m done with a one-sided relationship. I deserve more.”
