The Definition of Fate

Chapter 15

for a time,

it seemed to me

that we were

starlight-touched,

failing to

realize that

we were actually

star-crossed.

The stars were never on our side.

- Amanda Lovelace

"So you two just made out? And then came home?" Chloe quizzes me.

"Yep. He kept talking about wanting to be a distraction, which was kind of the whole point of the date, but not that kind of distraction."

I sink back into our sectional couch and cover my face with my hands. I really thought that Quentin was just taking me on a fun, casual date--we'd see the city, get something to eat, and talk. I didn't expect it to turn into a wannabe-hookup.

"Did he try to...to get you to go home with him?" Hina asks, her face blushing pink.

I bury my face deeper in my hands. "Yep. I should have met him at the restaurant, but because I let him drive, I had to sit awkwardly in the car while he drove me back here."

I draw in a ragged breath and wipe my hand across my mouth, trying to erase the taste of Quentin overpowering me. It was fun, for a second. Then it quickly turned into something I didn't want. After dating Aaron, I guess I just expected Quentin to be a gentleman and honor boundaries I didn't think I needed to delineate. Aaron always respected me and never tried to push my limits; in the last two years, I kind of forgot what douchebags guys can be.

"Did he..." Chloe trails off and I know what she's asking.

"No, he didn't push me. I guess it just wasn't what I thought it was."

The worst he did was cop a feel of my butt against his car before I shoved him off of me. Maybe I gave him the wrong signals or let our stupid kiss go far, but it doesn't matter. It could have been a lot worse, and he stopped when I pushed him away. At least he stopped.

"It's not your fault, Rachel," Chloe says, touching my arm.

I close my eyes, reliving Quentin's hands sliding from my waist to my hips. The recent memory fades to one much older, to five years ago in a dusty bar while we were in college. Chloe remembers that night.

Jordan, Luis, Chloe, Josh and I had gone out to dinner when I took a phone call in a back hallway. While on the phone, a drunken patron of the bar had tried to assault me and I only escaped when Josh saved me by beating the guy into a pulp. And even though that night ended with the two of us in the police station for hours after Josh was jailed for physical assault, I always felt safe around him. I knew he would always protect me.

That safety is gone and now I just feel naked and used, like Quentin's hands have left bruises everywhere they touched.

"I'm going to bed," I murmur, climbing off the couch and heading for my room.

Inside, I slip into an oversized hoodie and hide beneath my comforter. I close my eyes, but my heart pounds in my chest. I can feel the imprint of Quentin's hungry, roaming hands on my waist and his lips on my mouth, my jaw, my neck. And I feel stupid for letting things get that far, for trying to find solace and distraction in someone I barely knew.

I miss Aaron and his certainty, his safety, his constancy. I miss Josh's protectiveness, respect, and loyalty. I miss having someone by my side.

Monday morning comes with blinding ferocity, the summer sun slicing through my window shades and forcing me to face the day and Quentin. As if I'm not already stressed enough about work. Now I have Handsy McGee to deal with.