Chapter 5
Quinn wakes with a jolt, his eyes snapping open in the dark. His mind is a haze for a moment, then it sharpens — hotel room, bed, Lily Taylor. The memory floods back in fragments: the heat of her skin, the sound of her breath, the way she felt in his arms.
He glances at her — she's still asleep, nestled against the sheets, her face soft and peaceful in the quiet darkness.
He closes his eyes again, trying to push away the thoughts spiraling through his head. Jesus. This isn't supposed to mean anything. Sex is just sex — a release, a way to clear the noise. That's all it was. Just a physical thing, a distraction. He needed that. He needed to forget about Syria, about Carrie, about whatever mess Berlin is turning out to be. It's better this way.
But then there's the way Lily looks in the dim light, her body against his, the way her lips felt against his when he kissed her. Dammit. She's not what he needs right now. She's a complication, another thing to cloud his judgment.
But she's not like that, is she? She's not a one-night stand. He's good at reading people — it's his job, after all. And there's something in her eyes that says this wasn't just a quick escape for her.
He sighs, pushing the thoughts down. It doesn't matter. This is nothing. Just a release. He can handle it.
He shifts slightly, turning to face her, causing her to stir. Her eyes flutter open, and for a moment, there's a quiet connection between them, a brief pause before she speaks.
"Hi," she says softly, her voice still thick with sleep.
"Hi," he replies, a little hoarse.
"How long have you been awake?" she asks, her eyes searching his.
"Not long."
She looks at him for a moment, uncertain, then her gaze softens. "Are you… okay?"
"I'm okay. Are you?"
"Yeah. I'm okay."
Quinn hesitates before asking, "Do you want me to leave?"
She immediately shakes her head. "No. I mean… do you want to leave?"
"No," he answers, his tone steady.
"Good," she murmurs, offering him a shy smile.
He smiles back, his hand reaching to brush a strand of hair away from her face. Her eyes meet his, and for a moment, everything else fades.
"I'm… I'm glad you're here," she whispers.
He feels something shift inside him at the softness of her words, a warmth spreading through him that he can't shake. "Me too."
Without another word, he leans in, closing the space between them, his lips meeting hers. She kisses him back, and neither of them speaks again.