Read Online WITHOUT YOU (STRIPPED) by Brooklyn Skye - Free Book Online

for someone else then it’d mean I didn’t love you as much as I thought I did, which in the end would make it easier to leave. For the internship.”
    “And?” The fear, it’s there in that one tiny meaningless word. The awareness that I could strip away what we have with whatever comes out of my mouth next. I lock my eyes onto hers, my stare solid and unwavering.
    “I didn’t feel anything. And hated every second of it. Then I pushed her off me, told her I didn’t want her, and went home.”
    “Your text last night… Saying I was your everything—”
    “Wasn’t because I was feeling guilty. It was because I missed the hell out of you.” I close the gap between us and reach for her hand, bring it to my lips. “I know yesterday was a special day, I understand that now, but it kinda sorta killed me that you didn’t call after that. Worse, there was a tiny part of me that thought you’d given up on us.”
    Rolling her wrist, she slips her hand from mine and strokes my cheek. “I didn’t think I could hold it together long enough to talk to you. Because they were the sweetest words anyone’s ever said to me.”
    And then we’re kissing.
     
     

April 20th
     
     
    “Come.”
    Quinn’s lips pull back from mine, her golden-brown eyes constricted and crinkled at the edges. “Excuse me?”
    “On. I meant come on ,” I say, chuckling at the utter shock on her face. I guess that did sound a bit vulgar. I tow her out of her desk chair. “Grab a sweater. We’re going out.”
    She tugs out her ponytail, long hair spilling over her shoulders. God, she looks sexy when she does that. My fingers twist in her shirt, the heel of my palm pressing into her bare stomach. The smoothness and warmth of her skin seeps clear to my bones. I don’t know what’s gotten into us. Apparently, losing ourselves in each other is our fucked-up way of avoiding the one thing we should be talking about: the internship.
    Her back arches into me, and I dip my head to the crook of her neck, drowning myself in her intoxicating scent.
    “Where are we going?”
    My mouth moves along her neck, hand tangles in her hair. “Mmm, not telling.”
    “I hate when you try to surprise me.” She attempts to pull back, surely with a look of disapproval warping her face, but my grip tightens and she goes nowhere. I smile against her soft skin.
    “This I know.”
     
    ~*~
    “You could’ve just told me we were coming to your place.”
    “Oh, we’re not going to my place. Yet.”
    I park in the lot behind Merriam Hall and pull a bottle of champagne from behind the passenger seat. Quinn raises an eyebrow. Smiling, I shove the bottle into my backpack and climb out, the cool evening air replacing the stuffiness of the car. “We’re celebrating today. Zoe’s twenty-first.”
    “Torrin.” My name is a warning; Quinn’s way of saying please don’t do this , and I refuse to let her suppress the pain of her sister’s death any longer. She’s grown a lot in the few months we’ve known each other, talking about life when her sister was alive instead of running from it, but old habits die hard and I know this will probably be challenging for her. 
    I round the front of my car, grab her hand and tug her off the front seat. Bending to her level, our lips millimeters from touching, I say, “You said it’s what she would’ve wanted—champagne instead of flowery cake. Don’t fight it, Quinn. We’re celebrating, and you’re going to enjoy yourself, and there will be no sulking because this is not a pity party.”
    Unenthusiastically, she smiles, and I drop a kiss onto her mouth.
    “C’mon.” I take her around the waist and guide her east of Merriam Hall toward the gymnasium where the entrance should be. “The Blazin’ Bluegrass Festival is calling our names.”
    Her steps slow. “Bluegrass Festival? Are you kidding me?”
    “I kid you not.” I nudge her forward. “Complete with clogging, arts and crafts, and a corn hole