At Your Most Beautiful, Harper Bliss [books to get back into reading .TXT] 📗

to herself. Because if thinking of Quinn was just channeling memories of Maya’s own long-gone youth, there was nothing wrong with that. Reminiscing was harmless. It was fun, even, to consider the person she was then. So driven. So strong. So full of endless energy. These days, Maya only felt strong and energetic on the dance floor, and it only lasted for half an hour or so before she had to take a break, whereas before, she could have danced for hours on end.

She listened for sounds from the Hathaway garden. What was Quinn up to, all alone in her parents’ house? Was she thinking of Rachel? Or was she planning her next move on Maya?

Maya hoped for the latter. Yes, the consequences of it were unthinkable, but it sure was nice to be flirted with, to be wanted by someone so gorgeous and vital. Because Quinn was gorgeous. Maya bet that teacher hadn’t stood much of a chance once Quinn had set her sights on her.

She was only met with silence from the neighboring garden. Maya finished her tea, stripped off her sundress, and dove into the pool. She swam until her head was empty. Until she no longer associated the pool with Quinn’s almost-naked body. The girl would be leaving soon enough, anyway. The imminent return of Bill and Brooke would also help Maya get her mind off any impure thoughts she might have about their daughter.

“Is it like heaven in there?” The voice coming from the other side of the pool made Maya nearly jump out of her skin, as she was climbing out of the water, even though the owner of the voice had been on her mind incessantly.

“Quinn.” Maya looked around for her towel. She suddenly felt so naked. Damn. She’d forgotten to bring one out.

“I called to you from behind the bushes, but you didn’t hear me.” Quinn’s crooked grin was all confidence again—but turned up a few notches since yesterday. “I heard you splashing about in the pool and the sound was irresistible.”

“Could you do me a favor and get me a towel? They’re in the first closet on your right when you go inside.”

“Of course.” As if in no hurry at all, Quinn sauntered inside the house. She hadn’t bothered to wear a tank top today. Only the same skimpy bikini as yesterday and an abundance of glistening, smooth skin.

“Here you go.” Instead of handing her the towel, Quinn draped it over Maya’s shoulders. As Quinn reached up her arms, Maya’s gaze was drawn to a tattoo on her lower belly that peeked out from underneath her bikini pants. When Quinn’s arms lowered, the tattoo was covered up again, leaving Maya to wonder what it depicted.

“Feel free to jump in,” Maya said, insinuating that a swim was all Quinn had come over for.

“Thanks. I will in a minute, but before I do”—she stood there with her hands on her hips, her blue eyes blazing in the sun—“I wanted to invite you to dinner tonight. To thank you for sharing your pool with me. And for your magnificent company, of course.”

“You’re inviting me to dinner?”

Lips pursed, Quinn nodded.

“That’s really not necessary, Quinn. I’m more than happy for you to use the pool. You don’t have to thank me.”

“How else do I get to spend the evening with you?” She tilted her head and shifted her weight. How had this happened so quickly again? Maya wanted to scream yes and no simultaneously. How could she feel so uncomfortable and so flattered at the same time?

“Can you even cook?” Maya asked, unsure if her question would increase or deflate the tension.

“Not to save my life,” Quinn admitted. “But we have a well-stocked freezer.”

Maya burst out laughing. “So you were wanting to treat me to a meal your mother prepared.”

Quinn shook her head. “My dad does most of the cooking at our house.” She tutted. “Such gender-normative thinking.”

“Must be my age,” Maya quipped. “The times I grew up in.”

“Okay.” Quinn opened her palms to the sky. “I can’t promise you a home-cooked meal, but I can promise you another hearty cocktail and some pleasant company.”

Maya had to decide there and then if she was going to play along with this. Quinn might boldly claim her own company was pleasant—and it was, Maya had to give her that—but that didn’t mean Maya had to say yes to any of this. “Why don’t you just hang out here? I’ll whip us up some dinner. You mix the cocktails.” The thought of having dinner with Quinn at the Hathaways’ house was several bridges too far. Maya had gone to countless dinners next door since she’d moved in, but never when Bill and Brooke weren’t home.

“That’s unacceptable. How am I thanking you if you’re the one cooking?”

“Something tells me you’ll find a way, Quinn.” And there it was. The first drawbridge was lowered. Maya was flirting back—she had decided to play along.

“All right. I will.” Quinn gave her a frank once-over. “It’s a date.” With that, she stepped out of her flip-flops and jumped into the pool.

As Quinn swam a few laps, Maya settled in a chair and watched her. Maybe she should have made plans for this weekend—the weekend Tommy took his first decisive step away from home. But Maya had believed she’d wanted to be alone this weekend. That she would go through some rite of passage, a sudden change; that, somehow, she’d learn to accept the situation if she was receptive to it. But this, she had not expected. A young woman in her pool. The girl next door inviting her to dinner. All these feelings spiraling inside of her until it actually gave her pleasure to relent. To say yes to Quinn. To look forward to tonight because she was sure of one thing: it would be anything but dull. Spending time with Quinn was the opposite of boring. Maya had to be on her toes, ready to respond to a quip here and some flirty