In Every Universe | Quinn Hughes

9 | Lily

I THOUGHT TODAY WAS GOING TO GO VERY DIFFERENTLY. Not once did I expect to have my arms around Quinn Hughes neck, my legs wrapped around his waist and my body pressed to a row of lockers in the ice rink boys locker room. I open my mouth slightly, taking a deep breath in between kisses so deep they have my head spinning.

I'd been kissed before, even by Quinn, but no kiss had ever felt like this. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me, like I was breathless and dizzy and floating in zero gravity amongst the stars. Like he didn't just want to have sex with me and that he was trying to tell me how he felt through this kiss.

He holds me against the lockers with one arm, the other coming to detach one of my hands from its place behind his neck before bringing it above my head and lacing our fingers together. He held my hand tightly, forcefully, like he was afraid to let go.

My heart races in my chest, so fast and hard I can feel the thumping between us, a reminder that I'm terrified of what I'd just done. What we keep doing.

I'd been a student at UMICH for a total of two weeks and in that time I'd already kissed Quinn and been intimate with him, what did that say about my self control?

I was supposed to be ignoring him, getting through the year and focusing on my studies. He would be gone next year anyway, so I wouldn't have to worry about seeing him, but right now, it was impossible. He was everywhere I looked, and all I could think about was his pretty eyes and the smile he only gives me when we're alone.

I realise what I've done is going to make things between us even messier, that the line between friends and something more was always blurry with Quinn and I, but it was about I become even hazier.

The way I was kissing him right now though, with so much need and emotion and want, the way I was silently begging for him, but not in the way I had in his bedroom a few days ago, made things different. He could feel it, I knew he could, because his hands were trembling and his breath was shaky.

"I thought you said—" he takes a breath, kisses me again. "Never again."

His mouth is back on mine in seconds, needy and desperate and full of yearning.

"I take—" he kisses me again, just as hard. "It back."

Quinn smiles against my lips, but makes no effort to stop kissing me. I never want this to end, not even for a second, I'd be happy to die kissing Quinn, but we need to breathe and we need to get out of the locker rooms before more hockey players turn up for afternoon games.

I push at his chest, and it takes a full minute for Quinn to finally come to his senses and pull away from me. He looks ridiculously perfect with his flushed cheeks and kiss swollen lips and his hair all disheveled from the way my hands were tangled in it.

I have a secret suspicion that he's thinking the same thing with the way he's staring right at me, his eyes hooded and glossed over and his hand coming up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing over my bottom lip.

"I made a mess of my girl again," he whispered, brushing his nose to mine.

My heart does a hiccup at the mention of his words and how he'd just called me his girl. "I thought you liked it when I was a mess?"

"I do," he breathes, his voice husky and deep. "You're so pretty when you've been kissed by me."

"Then kiss me more often," I whisper, not sure what I'm trying to do here, but I did hope he kissed me again after this. "We should really go work on our—"

A heavy thud sounds throughout the locker room, followed by voices. Quinn and I stare at each other with wide eyes. Hockey boys coming to change.

"Fuck," he whispers, dropping me from his waist. "I'll lose my spot on the team if anyone sees us."