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Hope blooms in my chest like an overwatered houseplant. “Deal,” I agree with newfound confidence.
“Ever played twenty questions?” he asks casually while brushing a lock of hair off my forehead, his touch sending a tingle through me. The idea of getting to know each other through simple questions feels safe, almost like a shield against the weight of our secrets.
“No,” I reply slowly, both puzzled by his sudden game suggestion and intrigued. A realization hits me—this gentle afterglow, this willingness to simply talk and be close, it’s so different from what I’ve known before. With He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, moments like these were filled with tension and fear. But with Quinn, I feel…safe. The thought both comforts and terrifies me.
“All right, we go back and forth asking each other simple questions.” He gives me a stern look. “At first,” he tacks on with a strange look, “and then they get harder.”
I wrinkle my nose at him. “Can we just answer the question?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, say I ask what your favorite color is, and I’ll go first kind of deal.” I lean in, stealing a sniff of his bergamot scent, and gosh, it matches perfectly with my orange. That should send off warning bells in my head.
“Then that shall be our first question,” he says.
“Soft lavender,” I answer.
“Not at all what I would have chosen for you.” He laughs and sweeps a lock of hair off my face. “Silver.”
For a moment, we pause, both of us barely hiding our giggles at how absurd this is, but also, I love it. Never in all my life of dating or getting to know a guy did I want to know more about them like this.
“My turn.” He kisses my nose. Damn, I love those little baby kisses. “Even though I already know the answer since I’m in your apartment, I’m still going to ask this. Do you have any pets? I’ll go first.” He smirks at the game. “No, but not because we don’t want one. We can’t agree on a pet.”
I snort. “No, I don’t have any pets, but…” My heart thunders in my chest at opening up about my childhood. I spent six months burying what happened in the depths of my soul, and here I am, pulling little pieces out. “Growing up, my mom was a huge pet person. I swear the pet distribution system was like a PEZ dispenser for that woman. She had so many pets. At one point, she had three reptiles, four dogs, two cats, and a random rabbit that she nursed back to life after my dad hit the nest with the weed whacker.”
Quinn smiles the entire time I rattle on about my life growing up. “That sounds perfect,” he whispers. Reaching down, he grabs my comforter and tugs it up over us, his warmth wrapping around me like a cozy blanket.
“My turn.” I’m loving this. “What kind of music do you enjoy? I love indie folk and acoustic.”
“That’s an easy one.” His knot begins to release, and for a moment, we moan as he slides out of me, but he doesn’t move. “Electronic and synthwave.”
“Ew.” I wrinkle my nose.
“Favorite movie,” he says. “Inception.”
“Somehow, that suits you.” He feels like a dream. “Gilmore Girls.”
“That’s a show,” Quinn argues.
“Is it though? That last season was more movie than show,” I protest.
He holds his hands up in defeat. “Coffee or tea? I’m a matcha man.”
“There’s a joke in there,” I tease. “Both. I’m a mood drinker.” I secretly prefer coffee. “Favorite hobby? I love to garden, but as you can see, no garden.”
“Coding.” He sneezes as he says it, almost as if he’s a little ashamed, and the blush that works across his face… I want more of that. “Best vacation you’ve ever been on? Dash and I went to Silicon Valley for a tech conference, and it was so much fun. Well, I lost Dash for the whole week we were there, but it was still fun.”
“Girls trip to Salem.” I don’t even hesitate. “Cayenne, Ginger, and I flew across the United States right after college graduation and did all the touristy things. We were witches for that whole week, and you can’t tell me otherwise.”
Quinn tilts his head to the side, and I realize just how much I gave away, but what’s done is done.
Clearing my throat, I think about the next question. “Oh! Favorite book? Mine is The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett.”
“You have so many surprises. You really want a garden, don’t you?”
I’m about to pop off, and there is no controlling it right now. “I have this fantasy.” I sit up and close my eyes while holding the comforter to my chest. I can see it as I tighten my eyelids. “I want a fairy garden, like the front of the house is full of twinkle lights and flowers and there is this stone path to the backyard where everything is overgrown and edible. Oh, and there’s a little pool right in the middle of the garden, like a secret.” My eyes flutter open to see Quinn gazing at me with a curious look.
“That sounds magical,” he whispers. “Mine is Neuromancer by William Gibson. All right, what about…” He hums as I lie down beside him. I know the questions are going to get a little harder from here. “Morning or night? I prefer night.”
