CASSIUS

Originally, I was a little ticked off that Quinn felt the need to point out all the shit that went wrong in my life during my relationship. I'm already well aware of how much I lost in the years with Skylar but hearing them out loud hits a little harder than when they stay trapped in your head.

It felt like I was being slapped. Not with a rubber dick this time – with a regular hand.

But then she complimented my vocal cords, and I couldn't hold on to the animosity. How the hell do you stay mad at someone who hands you the oddest compliments you've ever heard? It's impossible.

After being here tonight, things started to make sense about why Quinn and Ethan didn't work out. It's not because she's mean or hateful or not good enough. And it's definitely not because she's unattractive.

I mean, she isn't your typical kind of pretty. She gets you in all the ways you don't expect. It's not her tits or her body in general, though I'm sure there's nothing wrong with either of those. It's her thick, wavy hair resembling a dark, wild lion's mane. It's the way she can look at you with such innocence, but still have an air of mischief and chaos all at once. I can't comprehend anyone not finding her beautiful.

They didn't work out because Quinn is just...a lot. She's a lot of personality, a lot of fiery spirit, a lot of nonsense, and a lot of...not crazy, but...well, I don't have a better word for it right now.

I'm not defending what he did, not at all. If he was overwhelmed, he should have just ended it. There's no excuse to cheat when you can just speak a few simple words and bring the relationship to a close.

But he cheated on her. With my ex-girlfriend. Who is model-level gorgeous by most people's standards. Perfectly symmetrical face, nice tits, perfect hair, long legs, the list goes on. Even gay men swoon over her. But she's boring. Everything about the way she looks is just...bland. Typical. Expected. And when you start to see what's inside of her, she's not pretty anymore.

The appeal wore off for me after year one. She had done a lot of damage in the first three-hundred-sixty-five days, but it was spaced out so well that it was easier to overlook. I didn't even realize I was starting to despise her. She's a master in manipulation. Towards the end, I started seeing her for who she really was, but it was too late.

I don't want to tell Quinn everything that transpired because I'm aware of how it looks. Even Warren judged me for a while before the main event took place. Always accused me of staying with her for sex or money. That was never my motive.

It was fear. And that's fucking embarrassing. Definitely not something I felt comfortable telling my brother, let alone strangers.

Quinn is shifting around a bunch, and I can tell she still has a thousand questions running through her brain. She's either not going to let it go, or she'll spontaneously combust from trying to keep her mouth shut. I'm actually impressed she's kept quiet for this long.

I place my hand back on her knee and take a deep breath, preparing myself to give life to one of the dumbest ideas I've had thus far.

"How about this? We'll do an exchange. You ask me one question, and I get to ask you one. Just one."

She dives to the other side of the couch and crosses her legs, staring at me with wide, excited eyes. Yeah, dumb idea. She's definitely going to get carried away with this.

"Okay! Why did you quit the– no, why did you disappear back in – how did you – ugh! This is too hard, Cash! Can I have two questions? Pleeeasssee?"

"That wasn't the deal, Quinn." I try to keep my voice serious, so she doesn't think there's any room for negotiation.

I may be catching on to her techniques, but that doesn't mean I'm immune to them. I'm absolutely positive she'd be able to wear me down and get her way if she tried hard enough.

Her mouth twists to the side of her face as she squints.

"We need coffee! This is going to be a long night!" She exclaims, jumping off the couch.

"No! The last thing you need is coffee!"

But she's already walking to the kitchen and pulling the coffee pot from the back corner of her countertop, placing a filter in the basket.

"Quinn, I'm serious."

She pokes her head back up over the counter after rummaging through the cabinets beneath. Her eyes fixate on mine, slowly scooping coffee grounds into the filter as she grins mischievously at me.

"Don't fucking do it, Quinn." I growl my warning.

Now her hand creeps toward the buttons while she tries to conceal her movements from me. Our eyes are locked and we're both glaring at one another with suspicion. As soon as I hear that button click, I'm on my feet, storming into the kitchen.

She squeals while trying to run past me through her narrow galley kitchen, but my arm locks around her waist right before she makes an escape. When I lift her into the air, her scream is so blood-curdling that I almost drop her, catching her by the arm before her head smacks the ground.

I gradually let her arm slip from my fingertips, easing her onto the floor. While she's on her back, she starts doing some weird wriggly thing on the ground, sliding through my legs. Once she passes between my feet, I turn around to watch her continue to move in an S shaped pattern while making weird hiss sounds until she makes it to the couch.

Then, she just lays there. Completely still. What the hell is happening? The sputtering sound of the coffee maker kicks on, beginning the brew. Her head lifts off the ground when the noise fills the room...and she smirks.

Fuck. She got me. I was too distracted by Quinn pretending to be a snake that I didn't stop the coffee maker in time. I really need to stop underestimating her.

I peek at the coffee can sitting on the counter, praying that she drinks decaf. She doesn't. Why would she? It would make too much sense.

Ten minutes later, we're back on the couch, coffee in hand. Twenty bucks to anyone who can tell me why Quinn's drinking hers out of a cereal bowl when she has a collection of mugs in the cabinet. I sure as hell am not wasting my one question on that.

"Okay. I think I have my question now." She says after slurping some of the hot liquid from her bowl. "But can we add another rule to this?"

My eyebrow raises, waiting to hear her proposal.

"We have to tell the truth. Like, no vague answers that leave us with more questions. You seem like the type to bore someone into submission, so I just need assurance that this is worth my time."

Well damn. Am I really that boring?

"Okay, sure."

I hold my breath while I anticipate her question. I know it won't be anything simple or easy. She's going to ask the hard shit, and I need to be ready.

"Why did you quit the team?"

Honestly, it's not the worst question she could have asked. But it still proves difficult on the being honest front. Especially when she doesn't know everything that came before.

"Alright, well...I guess it has a lot to do with –"

"Pause!"

Hm, only took two seconds.

"It sounded a lot like you were about to downplay your answer and I just want you to know that it's not going to turn out well for you if you do. I'll clarify for you, Cash. If you don't explain everything, I swear on my mama's life that I will grab every single dildo from downstairs and beat you until you see little penis-shaped stars."

Her voice is eerily threatening, and I find myself inching away. It's even worse that she's smiling at me like that. And just how many dildos are down there? She needs to stop watching crime shows.

"Play." She says with a nod.

I take a minute to rework the answer in my head because I have no doubt Quinn will follow through on her threat.

"So, I was a right defenseman, and by the end of my junior year, I was on track to be drafted early. But..."

I always forget how humiliating this shit is until I'm trying to say it out loud.

"I went to the library after practice one day and I uh, I saw Skylar with this guy. Didn't think anything of it at first. I figured she was just studying with a friend. Until she took a seat in his lap instead of in the chair across from him. I waited until she was alone to talk to her about it because I didn't trust myself not to hurt the guy."

Quinn's body shimmies forward, her knee pushing into my thigh, just like earlier. The small show of support is nice. And I'm really impressed she hasn't interrupted yet.

"She swore nothing was going on, that they were just old friends. I know...I know I'm stupid for believing it. Part of me didn't. Which is where the problems started. For once, I didn't let it go. I couldn't. We started fighting more and I never felt like I was getting the whole truth out of her. It started bleeding into the games. I was missing stupid shit, not performing as expected. I didn't quit, Quinn, I got kicked off the team."

"They kicked you off the team for being a little distracted? That seems kind of harsh." She whispers solemnly, staring into her bowl of coffee.

"Not exactly. They benched me after the first few fuckups. The coaches gave me a couple chances to get my shit together, but the scouts were already starting to lose interest. During my senior year, I kept hearing rumors from guys on the team about seeing Skylar and this guy Ryan together. I just started spiraling. We would get into these big arguments about her and Ryan's relationship, and she always got pissed if I left during a fight. So, I stayed. I would show up late for practices and games because of it."

Wow, this is pathetic. I don't want to do this anymore.

"Cash, keep going. Please." Quinn says softly.

"Look, it was stupid, alright? When I finally caught her cheating, she turned it around on me. I should have never prioritized her over my team." Irritation is climbing up through my throat, clinging on to my words.

"Turned it around on you? Like...she blamed you?" Her voice is stunned as she stares at me with angry eyes. Guess I'm not the only one worked up over this.

"Kind of, yeah. She kept saying the only reason she did it is because I never had time for her, and that I was always more focused on hockey or school than our relationship. I was too focused on my fucking future. When I went to practice after that argument, coach laid into me about not reading a play right and I... I snapped. I was so sick of hearing how I wasn't trying hard enough. At home, at school, on the ice. It was fucking everywhere, and I felt like I couldn't escape it."

Quinn removes the coffee mug from my hand before I get the chance to crush it in my palm and she sets both our drinks down on the table. She gently pushes on my shoulders, forcing me to lean back into the couch. Her body sinks down next to mine before she grabs my hand and places it in her lap, interlacing our fingers.

I take a deep breath, and my hand subconsciously squeezes tighter when I feel the warmth radiating from her soft palm pressed against mine.

"I got into it with one of the coaches. It wasn't anything too crazy, but it was enough to seal my fate after slacking off half my junior year. So, yeah. That's how I ended up getting kicked off the team."

"I can't believe she got you kicked off." Quinn sighs.

"She didn't. I did that all on my own."

Which is fucking depressing.

I can't blame her for this. It was my fault. She played a role, yeah. But ultimately, I'm the one who let it happen. I had already changed so much by that point that I didn't feel like I could speak up for myself or control the situation like I should have. I stayed silent and let the frustration build until I bubbled over and exploded at the wrong person.

I stupidly handed her the reigns to my life and rightfully suffered for it.

Not all the changes were for the worse. I kicked the coke habit, strayed from painkillers, stopped dealing, and cut back on alcohol consumption. Those tweaks in my life worked out in my favor.

I never did quite find my voice again, though. I used to be a walking billboard for confidence but now, the only time I feel like myself is when I'm working in that damn club.