The Fiction Between Us (Honeywood, #2)

by Julie Olivia

“Did you want me to kiss you?” he repeats. “Maybe.” “Maybe,” he breathes with a small smile. “Of course maybe with you.”

“I would do anything for you, if you’d let me.”

“I was into it,” I finally say. “I wanted you to kiss me last night. And I want you to kiss me now.”

“I would wait forever for you,” he says. When he pulls away, he blinks down at me. “Do me a favor.” I shrug. “Depends on what it is.” He smiles at my insolence. “Tell me you like me.” “That’s ridiculous,” I say.

“These are the books I used to read,” I say. “I didn’t know you had them too.” “I didn’t,” he says, taking steps toward me. “I bought them after.”

“How long have you liked me?” I ask. He sighs. “Don’t embarrass me.”

“Since I was fourteen.”

“Yes,” he says. Then, he licks his lips, tips his chin, and says, “Sit on my face.”

“Relax,” he says. “And let me show you just how desperate I can be.”

“You are my undoing, Quinn Sauer.” “And you are full of shit, Landon Arden.”

“I bet the security office is empty,” I whisper. She elbows me and grins. “You dog.” I pump my eyebrows at her. “Woof.”

“I swear you’re the devil.” I lean down, curling my finger so she leans in too. “Yes, but don’t you think I sin really well?” She grins and leans in closer. “I sin better.”

“Yeah,” he says with a deep inhale. “You’re right. We need the women who push us in life.”

“The only blessing you need is Quinn’s,” he says with a laugh. “If she wants something, we can’t stop her. And if she doesn’t, then that’s even worse.”

“Well, are you gonna ask me to be your dinner date?” “No,” I say. “You’d like that too much.”

“What fun, Ben,” Jolene murmurs. Her smile is so flat that an iron would be out of a job.

Ew

He leans down, and in the lowest, softest, I almost don’t hear him whisper, he asks, “So, we don’t like Jolene, do we?”

“Jolene,” he asks, “will you marry me?” Jolene covers her mouth with her hands, her eyes tearing up, and she nods. “Yes!”

uhhh what

Ruby also feels like an alien intruder tonight, haunted by the hope that she and Bennett would have been the ones engaged instead of him and Jolene.

The kid’s face falls. My head jerks to her. “What the heck, Quinn? Err … Queen Bee?” The line is frozen.

My favorite game of pretend is playing a queen who falls deliriously and hopelessly in love with a certain forest ranger.

“If you need a ride, I’ll wait for you,” I say. She sighs. “Please stop waiting for me.”

“But the funny thing about depression, which isn’t actually funny at all, is that it sneaks up on you when you least expect it.

“But what you are is wonderful. You’re honest and courageous and loyal. I mean, you punched a kid in the nose freshman year for making fun of my sister. When Lorelei told me that, I didn’t know whether I should be afraid of you or in love.”

“But you just have to place your bets on the ones that you enjoy and hope for the best.” “I’d bet on you,” she says.

“Quinn, did you just say something sweet to me?” I ask. “Momentary lapse of judgment. I take it back.”

“You are the best annoyance,” I say. He chuckles, low and husky and warm. “And you are my favorite misery.”

Nothing on God’s green earth thinks he can’t. But this is more fun.

Not a chance, my ass.

I slam my heel down to make a point, saying, “Ranger Randy, I—” Except I never get the chance to finish. CRACK! The air whooshes out of me, and down I go.

I wake up with a start, like a pulled cord of a lawn mower. “Christ!” someone yells. My senses come to me. White walls. White sheets. Beeping.

“Where’s your brother?” I ask Lorelei. A slow grin widens on her face. “He’s bringing food.”

“He’s a mess for you, you know,” Lorelei says. “A garbage bin of love.” “A trash bag full of smiles.” “A dumpster fire of feelings.”

“Well, you begged for me to go down on you in front of everyone.” My heart stops, but his smile looks too crooked. “You’re kidding,” I say. “I’m kidding.”

Quinn, dressed completely in classic Barbie doll pink, decided to choose Hag Barbie—which is definitely not a thing, but you try telling her that—complete with prosthetics crudely plastered to her face and a giant mole with bits of hair sticking from it, topped off with bruising wrinkles and yellow contacts.

She rips open the door and blurts out an over-the-top, “BLEGH!” The kids scream. She cackles and tosses candy into their buckets. They don’t even remember to say, Trick or treat.

But when Lorelei sees Quinn, she screams. “Quinn! Good Lord!”

“Knew it,” he mutters. “You knew nothing,” Quinn says. Emory shrugs. “I know what it’s like to want someone and hate yourself for it.”

“Ew. Gross,” Quinn says. “Supportive friends.” A slow smile creeps up her hag-like face.

This place needs an old woman’s touch,” she finally says. “Oh, so you’re crocheting pillows and quilts?”

“It’s a mentorship under me,” she says. “I can do whatever I want. Plus, I hear you’re going to college in the spring.”

“Come on. Let’s pick up the pace, Queenie. Let’s blow this Popsicle stand.” “It’s a coffee shop.” “Whatever.”

The stage door opens behind me, and Honey shuffles in, the usual symphony of too much jewelry. “Emily, you look gorgeous. Queenie …” She looks me up and down. “Eh, you’re all right.”

“I’d storm over there and confess your undying love to that man,” she says. “Make a complete fool out of yourself. It’s the only logical solution.”

“From dragon to fairy godmother,” I muse. “You’re really stepping up.”

I can tell Emily wants to escort me, considering I’m still in a cast, but I shoot her a look that says, Touch me, and you’ll die.

“I want you,” she says. “If you want me.” “If you want me,” I echo with a breathy laugh. “What a silly sentence.”

“Of course I want you. It’s always been you.”

“If you break my heart, I will end you,” she threatens. “Oh, hush,” I mutter, capturing her mouth once more.

“Quinn,” I say, “you will always be my queen. And don’t ever think you’re anything less.”