Mia's Heart (The Paradise Diaries) (20 page)

His
smile is wicked.

And
so is mine.

“Come
here,” he tells me, pulling me to him.  I slide against him, and every
inch of us is naked and pressed together. 
Every inch.
 

My
heart pounds as he kisses me. His hands are pressed into my back, pushing me
closer into his chest.  His fingers are warm while the rest of us is cold
from the sea.  The moon shines onto us, making our skin seem silver in the
dark. 

His
lips slide away from mine, leaving my breath ragged and panty.

“Kiss
me again,” I instruct him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Done,”
he whispers.  He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist and he’s
pressing against me
there.
  And I like it.  I don’t take the
time to wonder what that makes me. Instead, I just kiss him again and
again. 

An
image of Quinn pops into my head, but it is quickly overshadowed by an image of
Quinn with Elena.  Quinn made the choice, I didn’t. 

Gavin
is right for me. I can feel it.  And I’m pretty sure it’s not the
wine-coolers talking.  I only had two.  He knows me.  Really
knows me.  And that’s got to be right for me in a time when I don’t know
myself.

His
breath is ragged now, his heart pounding against my chest.  His gaze is
inky black in the night. 

“Mia,”
he whispers.  And he opens his mouth to say something else, but we are
interrupted by flashing lights.  White pops of light.

What
the hell?

I’m
disoriented for a minute, looking around to see where the light is coming
from. 

“Go,”
Gavin yells to me, pushing me toward the shore.  And then he’s gone. 
I can’t even see where he went.  I’m confused and then I see dark shadows
moving on the shore with the white light. 

Cameras.

Someone
is taking our picture. 

I’m
astounded.  Everything is happening in blurs and I don’t even know what to
do but sink into the water so that whoever it is can’t see me naked.  It’s
all so disorienting.

And
then Quinn is striding toward me. His face is grim and set and he is taking off
his shirt as he plows into the water.  He doesn’t even slow down. 

When
he reaches me, he stares down at me. 

“Oh,
the messes you get yourself into,” he says quietly. 

He
scoops me out of the water and drapes his shirt around me.  And then he
carries me out of the sea. Men in suits have chased away the people with
cameras.  Dante’s security detail, apparently.  And I see Gavin on
the beach, pulling his clothes on. 

He
starts to talk to me, but I interrupt, still ensconced in Quinn’s arms.

“You
left me!” I snapped.  Gavin looks surprised.

“What
would you have me do?” he asks, still clearly surprised. “They wanted our
pictures. If our parents saw those pictures, we’d be in serious trouble.”

“Who
are
they
?” I ask, still aware that Quinn hasn’t set me down.  I can
feel his strong arms encircling my naked body.  His heat is
scorching.  Or that might be my temper.  I can’t tell.

“They
are trying to get our pictures for their gossip sites,” Gavin tells me. 
“They like to sneak out here when they think we might be having a party to
catch unruly behavior on film.”

And
it dawns on him that these are things that I don’t remember. 

“Oh,
god.  Mia, I’m so sorry.  I forgot that you wouldn’t know what was
going on.  I’m sorry. I thought you would know to run for cover.  I
guess I did leave you.”

He
is genuinely apologetic. But that doesn’t change the fact that he left
me.  And I’m fairly certain that when I was standing there like a deer in
the headlights, they got many pictures of me.  Naked. 

OhLord.

“Can
you take me home?” I ask Quinn.  He nods. 

“Of
course.”

He
doesn’t put me down, he just turns and walks over the sand dunes with me in his
arms.  I ignore Gavin’s shouts from behind us as I look up at Quinn.

“You
can put me down,” I tell him.  “I should get my clothes.  They’re on
the beach.”

As
if on cue, Reece jogs up with my clothing in her arms. 

“I’ve
got her, Reecie,” Quinn says before she can even speak.  She nods. 

“Okay. 
I just thought Mia might want to get dressed before you go back to the house.”

Of
course I do.

I
can’t imagine the look on my mom’s face if I walk- or get carried- into
Giliberti House as naked as the day I was born. 

“Thank
you, Reece,” I sigh.  “I guess some things don’t change.  I’m still
getting myself into messes.”

She
shakes her head.  “Gavin shouldn’t have left you.  He feels terrible
though.  I’ll see you at the house.  Here’s Dante’s keys. You can
take his car.  I’ll find Dante and then meet you there. I’ll have Gavin
drop us off.”

I
nod.  “Thank you- take your time.”

She
ducks back into the night and I see her blonde hair fading into the dark.

Quinn
still hasn’t put me down. 

“There
are bath houses up ahead,” he tells me.  “You can go inside and change
without worrying about someone else taking a picture. I’ll guard the door.”

I
am instantly relieved and indebted to him and impressed with his
consideration.  I am all of these things at once.  And because there
are so many things, I don’t even know how to express them. 

So
I just nod and say, “Thanks.”

Quinn
grins down at me. “Sure thing, tiny tot.”

He
puts me down in the doorway of one of the little bath-houses and I very quickly
pull on my clothes.  When I walk back out, he is still alone, leaning
against the wall of the building.  He’s so big, but he’s got such a big
heart, too. 

“I
will always remember you plunging into the water to save me,” I tell him
quietly.  “Especially because you don’t know how to swim.”

He
shakes his head. 

“It
wasn’t that big of a deal,” he tells me.  “Seriously.  The water was
only chest deep.  I saw you out there looking so confused and I knew I had
to come get you.  I had clothes on,” he reminds me.  “You
didn’t.  That made it a little easier for me to walk in front of
everyone.  What possessed you to go skinny-dipping, anyway?  You had
to know that you guys are constantly watched for photo ops.  If Dante’s
there, there’s going to be photographers.”

“I
forgot,” I told him.  “I didn’t remember that.”

And
I feel deflated. 

I
feel the total opposite of how exhilarated I felt when I was in the
water. 

I
still feel naked, though—just in a different way.

“Of
course you didn’t remember,” Quinn says.  “Someone should have reminded
you.”  He’s sympathetic now.  And I hate that.  But I don’t say
anything. 

We
ride to Giliberti House in silence.  The irony that Quinn is driving
Dante’s car isn’t lost on me.  I can’t help but constantly feel surprised
at how well they get along now, when I know that they were on rocky terms at
first. 

“What’s
with you and Dante?” I ask as Quinn pulls into the Giliberti drive.  He
glances over at me. 

“What
do you mean?”

“You
get along so well,” I point out.  “I figured that since you used to have a
thing for Reece that you and Dante would butt heads.”

Quinn
laughs, a sound that is husky and rich in the night.  Even his laugh has
an American accent.  I like it.

“Dante
and I are fine,” he tells me.  “He didn’t know what to think of me at
first, but once he realized that Reece and I aren’t a thing, he was fine. 
He’s really easy to get along with.”

“As
are you,” I tell him. 

“Well,
that’s what I’m told,” he tells me as he uncurls himself from behind the
wheel.  He comes around the car to open my door, like a gentleman.  I
love that, too.

He
opens my door and helps me from the car and then walks me up the manicured
sidewalk.  He doesn’t dwell on the fact that I was skinny-dipping and that
he bailed me out.  He’ll never know how grateful I am. So I tell
him. 

He
shakes his head again. 

“It
wasn’t a problem,” he tells me again.  “You would’ve done the same for
me.”

And
I would have.  I really would have.  That makes me happy.  Maybe
I really am a bad-ass. 

“Why
did you go to the party with Elena?” I ask him suddenly, before I lose my
bad-ass nerve.  He looks startled. 

“Because
she asked me.  You didn’t,” he points out.  “Why did you go with
Gavin?”

I
shake my head.  “I didn’t. I went with Reece and Dante.”

“But
you went skinny dipping with Gavin,” Quinn reminds me.

“That
was just me being impetuous,” I tell him. 

He
stares down at me, his sandy blonde hair curling up at his neck. 

“Well,
maybe me going to the party with Elena was impetuous, too.”

He’s
still staring at me, strong and silent in the dark.  We’re lingering in
the doorway of the house, each of us hesitant to open the door and end this
conversation. The whole mood feels like an open-ended sentence.  And I
want it to keep on going. 

With
Quinn. 

“I
don’t know what I’m supposed to want,” I admit to him.  His eyes are like
liquid chocolate as he assesses me.  He seems pensive. 

“Well,
you’re the only one who can figure that out,” he finally tells me.  And I
know he is right. 

“I’m
just so confused,” I murmur. “And I hate that.”

“Well,
tiny tot, don’t stress so much about figuring it out,” Quinn says.  “When
you’re ready, the answer will be clear.  You’ll know what you want.”

“I
will?” I ask.  I watch his lips as he speaks.

“You
will,” he assures me.  “Trust me.”

And
as I picture his strong arms carrying me out of the sea while I was wrapped in
his shirt, I know that I do.

I
do trust him.

It’s
a good feeling.

Chapter
Eighteen

I
see a side to my mother this morning that I wish could have stayed locked in my
lost memories.  She’s so furious about the pictures taken of me last night
that she looks like she could just spit. 

In
fact, she accidentally does spit on my cheek as she hisses angry words.  I
wipe it away and patiently listen to her tirade. 

And
as she says something about me embarrassing her and my father, a memory slams
into me. 

You’re
an embarrassment.

I
inhale sharply as a few more blurred and jagged memories come rushing
back.  I see a few faces and images and colors and it leaves me feeling nauseous
and overwhelmed in a sea of emotion.

“We
fought that day,” I whisper.  My knuckles are white as I fist them in my
lap.  My mother looks at me from my bedroom windows. 

“What?” 
She is startled now. 

“The
day of the earthquake.  You told me that I embarrassed you.  We
fought and I left.  I was supposed to have been in my bedroom, but I
sneaked away to go diving with Gavin.”

“You
remember?” she asks, her face pale.  My mom is a small woman, and she
looks severe today with her dark hair pulled into a tight chignon at her
neck.  I nod.

“I
remember.  That much, anyway.  But it’s something.”

“You’re
right,” she sighs.  “It’s something.  Yes, we fought that day. 
You had your nose pierced.  I wanted you to take it out so that you didn’t
embarrass your father.  You refused.  Then you left.”

“And
when I was in a coma, you took my nose ring out and colored my hair,” I say
calmly.  She nods wordlessly. 

“Why?”
I ask.  I feel limp.  Even though I know what she did.  I need
an answer now.  Am I really such an embarrassment to my parents that they
would try to change me when I wasn’t even conscious?

“Because
we had to,” she answers simply.  “I thought that maybe everything could
change.  But I see now that it’s not going to happen.  You’re going
back to your old ways and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“My
old ways?” I raise an eyebrow and try to force my temper down.  I feel my
blood starting to boil and that’s not a good sign.  “Just because I see
life differently than you do, doesn’t make me wrong,” I tell her.  “If you
and dad weren’t so rigid about trying to force me into the mold of a person
that I’m not, maybe you would see that.”

“We’re
not trying to change you,” my mother says.  “We’re just trying to change
your behavior.  You’ve got to realize that a mature person has to
sometimes act in ways that they would rather not, simply because of their
position in life.  You have to act respectful and mature because of your
father. It’s just the way it is.”