On Paper (18 page)

She smiled at me, and I froze the moment in my mind. It was reckless, feeling this way when we'd agreed to temporary, but my heart didn't seem to care. For once it wanted nothing more than to be laid out on the table, vulnerable and brave.

"I wanted to take you out on the water today, I don't know if we'll be able to make that happen," I said, running my hands across her legs.

She shrugged, "That's okay. I'm kind of happy just sitting here with you," she said.

So that's what we did. We shut out the rest of the world, ordered room service, watched crazy reality TV and spent the majority of our day naked and wrapped up in one another.

The feel of her, I could never describe it properly. She just fit, the way her body would tuck against mine, the way she would move beneath me as I took her with long deep strokes; it wasn't something I'd experienced before. I really couldn't get my fill of her. She made me insatiable.

If I thought I could get away with not attending the giant book fair or the farewell parties I’d have kept her locked away until our planes left. But real life is a bitch and Quinn wasn’t about to let me get away with letting anyone down by missing the signing. So amid my protests she’d made sure I’d spent two hours this afternoon doing my job.

In all honesty though, it was all worth it when I saw the stack of books and the giant smile she had when I found her afterwards. It was easy to get lost and be selfish with what time I had left with her, but she was my book nerd, after all, and this was her playground. I’d happily buy her every book in the building to see her smile like that.

"I'd rather not go to this party," I grumbled later that evening once we were back up in my suite. I watched as Quinn walked around the bedroom in just her bra and panties, getting ready and patted myself on the back for suggesting she grab the stuff she needed for the party and bring it upstairs. I'd watched her put on her make up, watched her curl her hair, and wanted nothing more than to take her back to bed.

"It might be fun," she soothed me.

"Sure it will." I said, my sarcasm causing her to laugh.

"Besides, it will be good for us to get out of this room for a little while," she said.

"We already left the room, remember? I didn’t like it. Being locked away in this room with you has been a highlight of my week." I loved the way she blushed at my words. As tough as she could be she was still a little shy and I loved knowing I could bring out the pale pink across her cheeks.

"I can't argue with that," she said, sliding her arms around my neck.

"So we can stay?" I asked hopefully.

"Not a chance. Get dressed. We're going downstairs."

"Bossy. I like it," I teased her. She shook her head as she moved away from me to get her dress. Watching Quinn dress was nearly as nice as watching her undress. In fact, watching Quinn was quickly becoming one of my favorite pastimes.

As much as I'd grumbled about going to the party, walking into the ball room with Quinn on my arm made me puff out my chest like a caveman. I liked having her beside me. I liked the looks that we got as we entered the room. I liked the seeing the gazes fall to our joined hands, and the way they would watch as I guided her across the room with my hand on the small of her back. I liked the way it felt to enter the room and know that everyone here knew she was mine. At least mine for right now. She was leaving with me and as far as any of these strangers knew, she belonged to me. And surprisingly, it felt really good.

In fact, it felt damn good.

WE ACTUALLY HAD
two parties to attend tonight. The first required us dropping in to a wrap up party where Keaton was getting some face time with readers. I let him do his thing, sipping wine with Lily. I loved watching him with people. No matter his reputation you could tell that he cared about the people he spoke to. Because when he was talking to them about books or listening to them talk about how his work had meant something to them he listened genuinely. He heard them. He cared and it showed. He wasn't just a show pony and if you took the time to really listen to him you could see that. At least I could and I felt pretty certain that was the case for anyone.

Then again, I was lucky enough to know a whole other side of Keaton. One that he seemed to keep under wraps. I had to admit, it made me feel special. Once we were done at the ballroom we headed down the street with Miles and Lily to a party hosted by one of the attending publishing houses. It was held in a trendy little restaurant just down from the hotel, on the 37th floor of a high rise. The outer walls were glass and the lights inside were dim enough that you could look out and see the lights from the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance.

This crowd landed closer to stuffy and arrogant and as I watched people move about and chat it felt to me that everyone was on guard. "Who are all of these people?" I asked Keaton as we moved towards the bar.

He shrugged, "A mix of people really. Don't worry, there are good people among the sharks," he chuckled. I wasn't sure what to think about that statement, so I brushed it off and held onto his arm. I smiled as he chatted with people and nodded as he introduced me. These people could probably be valuable contacts to have, but I was too nervous to make much use of the situation. Besides, this night was about Keaton and I wanted to enjoy our time together. Tomorrow would come soon enough and I was trying really hard not to think about the goodbye that we would be faced with come morning.

"Do you want more champagne?" he asked, nodding to my empty glass. Maybe I was more nervous than I thought.

"Oh, sure. Thanks," I smiled, suddenly feeling shy.

"I'll be right back, you'll be okay for a minute?" he asked. I nodded, smiling as he kissed my cheek before moving towards the bar.

There were a lot of people milling about and it was fun to people watch. I thought of Keaton and the way he was constantly creating stories about the people around him. I was so in my head trying to create my own version of a couple who were dancing that I almost missed the woman who came to stand beside me.

"So you're here with Keaton?" the woman asked.

I couldn't read her expression. She seemed friendly enough, but I got the distinct impression that she was secretly laughing at me.

"I am," I said evenly. She gave me a quick nod and then leaned in conspiratorially.

"He's such an asshole when it comes to women, but it's almost worth it, ya know?"

I gaped at her and she tilted her head feigning apology, like she was about to deliver bad news.

"Oh, you don't know," she said, her hand flying to her chest in mock concern.

"I'm perfectly aware of the reputation that you are alluding to. I just don’t understand why you feel the need to bring it up to me," I said coolly. I don't know why her words were grating against my nerves so badly, but the way she was talking about Keaton made me angry. Maybe he could be an asshole and yes, he probably hadn’t always been so nice to his many conquests, but I was pretty sure he'd always been honest about who he was and what he was looking for.

I didn't like the way this woman was talking about him. It made my skin prickle and I was really annoyed that my glass was empty, preventing me from tossing my drink across her pretty dress.

"I see," she smiled, sugar falling from her lips. "Well, you seem like a smart girl. I'm sure you know better than to hand a man like that your heart. He's a great story to have, but he's not in it for anything more than a good time," she said.

"You know, what I think? I think you are a sad woman who was obviously willing to jump into the sack with him no questions asked. I think that says as much about you as it does about him. I’m also quite certain he didn’t lead you on by painting you some fairytale ending, but maybe you did that all on your own. Then, when it didn’t work out you became this bitter version of yourself and the only way to deal with the fact that you can’t have the one thing you want, which let’s face it…is that fine piece of ass, is to tear me down and make me feel just as miserable as you do. But you should probably take your stones and go somewhere else. Because I actually know a little more about the man you so shamelessly label an asshole and just because he may not have given you the time of day, doesn't make him any less than extraordinary. He's a good man and I'm not going to stand here and let you bash him under the guise of giving me some girl code warning. I don't need your warning. And I don't need to hear you say another word about my date," I said. I felt the heat rushing to the surface of my skin, my lips set in a firm line. I almost hoped she'd push me a little further, because it really felt good to lay into her.

I should keep my cool. I didn't want to draw any attention to our encounter, but shit, she’d pissed me off. I wondered if Keaton had slept with her. Of course he had and that was why she was so bitter. I could see where it would be hard to have him once and then never again. I knew my own hunger for him and how it had only grown over the past week. But it pissed me off to see how she treated him like a ride in an amusement park.

I watched her give me a once over and then walk away with a huff and I finally released the breath I'd been holding.

"That was the sexiest thing I have ever witnessed." The warm silky voice tickled the back of my neck and I felt the shiver flutter beneath my skin. I turned to see Keaton smiling a dazzling smile as he returned with a new champagne flute.

"I don't like her. I hope that you didn't really sleep with her, but if you did, I hope you were having an off night," I grumbled.

He laughed, deep and loud, throwing his head back. The sight melted the frost that she'd left behind and I couldn't help but laugh with him.

"Oh my God, Quinn, you are something else," he smiled. He took my empty glass, trading it with the new one, and set it on a nearby table. Then, he turned back to me, his eyes turning serious. He took a step closer, removing all of the space between us. My breath caught as he dipped his head so that it was inches from my own. "Thank you," he said so softly that I could feel his breath on my cheek.

"For what?" I asked quietly.

"For sticking up for me. It . . . meant something to me," he said.

I felt it then, that pull to touch him, that feeling of falling into something so deep that it threatens to consume you.

"Sure," I managed, the word getting stuck in my throat from the instant intensity that had fallen around us.

"I mean it, Quinn. That was sexy as shit, but it was more. I felt it here." He took my hand and pressed it to his chest. I could feel his heart; it pounded against my palm in quick steady beats.

I swallowed hard; sure he could hear my own heart at this point as it thudded in my chest, trying to match the beat of his. Thump thumpthump, Thump thumpthump.

"You're welcome," I finally managed, my voice only a whisper. His lips brushed softly against my own, it wasn't a kiss, just a brush of soft skin that made me yearn for something more.

"Let's dance, beautiful," he said. I took a sip of my drink, put it on the table and let him lead me onto the dance floor.

I barely even heard the music, just that it was slow. Keaton pulled me into him, one hand wrapped around my own as he held it to his chest, his other pulling me in at my waist so that our bodies were connected. I looked up to him, his eyes dancing as he looked down at me. I was lost in him. It should have scared me, and if I’d given myself permission to think about any of it even a moment it would have. But I refused. I couldn’t let logic in, not today. Not now. I was living in somebody else's shoes. In a sense I was Cinderella at the ball and I would worry about the ticking clock later.

I COULDN'T HELP
the sense of melancholy that seemed to descend as we made it back to the room. Goodbye hung in the air all around us, waiting to be acknowledged. So far, we'd both refused. I didn't want to ruin our last night together. I didn't want to end on a sad note. I didn't want him to think that I was the girl who was going to try and cling to him when this was over. No matter that part of me wanted to. Desperately.