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The afternoon carried on and soon I was relaxed and having a great time. Keaton's mom and sister had stolen me away to chat while they finished up with side dishes in the kitchen. There was enough food here to feed an army. Then again, it was a packed house. I helped chop some vegetables while Mia asked me questions about myself and Alycia told embarrassing stories about her brother.

I could see Keaton outside on the deck, sipping his beer. He looked so handsome that I kept getting distracted. Each time I caught him glancing inside to check on me he owned a little more of my heart. There was something to be said about a man who wanted to make sure that you were being taken care of.

Keaton's family was straight out of a movie, or a storybook. I watched as Joe sauntered in with a platter full of food. He hummed under his breath as he set it down on the counter and then pulled Mia into his arms and began to dance with her. She laughed and swatted playfully at him. He dipped her low and then planted a kiss on her lips. Once he had her back on her feet he twirled her once and then sauntered back out to his grill.

I caught the smile on her face and noticed the twinkle of her eyes as she went back to her task.

"Don't mind them. They've always been that way," Alycia smiled. "We keep thinking that they'll grow out of it. No such luck yet though, right Mom?" she teased.

Mia just smiled and continued tossing the salad. I noticed that she'd started humming the same song that Joe had left with.

There wasn’t a table large enough to fit the extended Harris clan, so people were spread around all over the house and outside on the deck. Keaton and I sat in the kitchen at the breakfast nook with Alycia and Keaton's great aunt Helen. She was a spitfire and I fell in love with her instantly. She and Alycia were more than happy to tell me about the trouble Keaton had gotten into as a kid. He took it in stride, offering up his own antidotes that had the entire table in hysterics. Keaton's mom, Mia, finally brought her plate in to join us saying that she hated missing out on the fun.

It was an amazing day and what had made it even better was the fact that Keaton had settled into it just fine. I'd been worried that it would be too much for him, but when we left for the night he seemed genuinely relaxed. I barely had my seatbelt on before he had leaned over and pulled me to him in a kiss. His tongue slipped past my lips and his fingers curled around the back of my neck. I hummed low in satisfaction at his seduction.

"I've been dying to do that all fucking day," he said, breathless as he pulled back. It was only then that I noticed the slight frantic look in his eyes. He'd been so at ease all day, but I could see the small storm starting to take shape behind his eyes. I ran my finger across his lips.

"I missed you too," I smiled. He kissed me once more, soft and sweet and then kissed my forehead before buckling his own seatbelt and starting the car.

"I had fun today," I said.

"Me too," he said softly, his voice kind of far off. I couldn't help but wonder if that was the part that had him feeling off kilter. I thought about asking him, but I decided to wait and give him a little time to absorb it. After our talk last night I had a better understanding of what was going on in that head of his. After today, I think I understood it even more. Watching his family and seeing the people who had shaped him, who knew him best, had provided some surprising insight. And as we started home I found myself lost in my own thoughts, trying to piece it all together.

I had seen a whole new side to Keaton today. And what I’d realized was that the things that I thought I knew, the things that I thought held him back, weren’t the right things at all.

THE RIDE HOME
was quiet, both of us lost in our thoughts. I had no idea what she was thinking about, but I had a mess of emotions churning in my stomach and constricting my heart. Seeing Quinn with my family had been amazing, seeing the way she fit in, instantly welcomed. I had sat there watching her talk to my mom, pouring over old albums and genuinely laughing at stories of me as a kid.

Mom loved her. I could tell that right away and the two were instant friends. I don't know why I would have expected anything less. It was Quinn. She won people over with her genuine spirit. When you talked to her you saw only truth and the warmth that had spilled from her had left my heart feeling all those scary things again.

I hated this lost feeling. How could I feel so much for this girl and feel so tortured by it? My heart was a complete contradiction and it was hard to find my footing. As a rule, I didn't over-think things. I did what felt right, I did it without thinking at all most of the time. But I couldn't do that with her. I couldn't be flippant with her heart or her trust and that had left me in a complete quandary.

She loved me. Those words, I heard them over and over, even if she hadn't said them again, I felt them. With every look, every caress, and I wanted so much to return it, but I just wasn't ready. I knew she wouldn't wait forever. I knew that I had to face the storm that raged inside me and decide what it all meant.

"I get it now," she said suddenly breaking me from my thoughts. I glanced over at her, but she was staring out the window.

"What's that?" I asked.

"I used to think that you didn't believe in love at all. That you thought it was an idea only foolish people entertained," she said.

I held my breath, unsure of where she was going and afraid she would call me out on my bullshit of the past few days.

She looked over at me and gave me a sweet smile. There was no hurt or anger there, just that same curiosity that I loved about her.

"It's not that at all is it?" she asked, studying my face with those eyes that saw straight though any mask I dared to get away with.

"It's not?" I managed doing my best to give nothing away.

"No. I saw it today, with your family. It's not that you don't believe in love, it's that you know just how real it is. You've seen it your whole life. Your parents have a very rare love, the kind that you put in each of your books. You believe in it because you've been surrounded by it," she said.

I didn't dare speak, but I reached out and took her hand in mine and gave it a squeeze. She was so close to the truth. She was observant and smart and she was once again seeing me down to my core.

"I suspect that is a hard thing to live up to," she said softly as she turned her gaze back to the window. I didn't know what to say. I wasn't positive I could say anything through the lump that sat centered in my throat.

When I stayed silent, she squeezed my hand and I knew she was giving me a pass. I was grateful and still awed at her patience with me.

We reached my apartment and I held her close to me as we moved towards the elevator and to my door. I unlocked the bolt and ushered her inside. As soon as it closed I grabbed her hand and pulled her to me. Surprised she let out an eep. I grabbed her face in my hands and looked down into her hazel eyes. She knew me. She got me. She understood without me ever having to find the words to explain.

"Quinn, I--" I started. Shit, this girl, she left me without words. I searched my ragged brain for something, anything to explain the feelings that were wrapped around my heart, but nothing was there.

"I know," she said softly. And God help me, I believed that she did.

"I need you," I choked out.

Her small hands pressed against my chest. I hoped that she could feel the steady thump of my heart. I hoped it was beating out the things that I wasn't saying. She moved her hands along the center of my shirt, releasing each button as she went.

"I'm here," she said, her voice soft and breathy with desire. She reached the final button and then ran her hands back up my chest before pushing the shirt off of my shoulders.

"Never leave," I breathed out as I covered her mouth with my own. Her arms circled my neck as I picked her up and carried her to my bedroom. I may not have the right words to say when it came to her, but I had other ways to express myself. And right now, I needed to spend the rest of the night doing just that.

I felt more in control with the light of a new day cascading over us. I had to admit, waking up with Quinn wrapped around my body or sprawled out twisted in sheets beside me was pretty fantastic. I loved waking up before her and watching her sleep. She looked like an angel. I know, it's cheesy, but fuck if it wasn't true. Then there was the soft sigh of her breathing. I couldn't help but wonder about what she might be dreaming about. Was it wrong that I wanted every single one of her dreams to be about me? I wanted to be in all of her thoughts, twisted around every moment of her life so that she had no option but to be completely mine.

Those same thoughts left me feeling guilty. I hated that I asked and expected so much from her, but was still too much of a pansy to give any of it back. Not that she didn't just take it anyway. She was already twisted around all of my moments, and I hadn't even seen it happening.

I was a mess. But mornings like this, when she was tangled among my sheets and my world was focused on her, I didn't want to be anything else.

YOU KNOW WHEN
you are learning to drive and you have to get used to how sensitive the gas and brake pedal are? You think you are only pushing down a little, but then you lurch forward or slam to a stop?

You think you finally have it down, you think you are in control, but then
screech
. You fly forward then snap back into your seat violently with the sudden lack of forward momentum.

Being in love with Keaton was a lot like that some days. He had warned me that being with him wouldn’t be easy. He was right.

Falling in love is tricky. It’s a risk. Falling in love with someone afraid to fall in love might be the riskiest game of all. I'm not sure it's a game anyone can win. Lord knows I've been working at it for months now.

I let Keaton have his freak out. I didn’t push him. And we settled back into a somewhat easy pattern. Unless you wanted to talk about that skittish look he got from time to time. You couldn’t predict it. Sometimes we’d be going along on a perfectly normal day and I’d just lose him for a bit. It was as if some thought would spook him and he’d have to hide out for awhile.

I pretended it didn’t hurt.

But it scared me.

If I could go back and take those three fateful words out of my vocabulary I would. I wanted Keaton back and as much as I tried to tell myself that he was just coming to terms with his own feelings about where our relationship was going, I knew the truth. I was losing him. There was a silent battle happening and I was starting to realize that my love might not be strong enough to defeat his fear.

The hardest part was knowing that he loved me. He didn’t have to tell me for me to know. I saw it in his eyes, I felt it in every touch and the way he took care of me like I was the most important thing in his world. That's love. It's the real deal.

I tried not to get hung up on the words. Words were dangerous. Dangerous because I knew there was a part of me that needed to hear them, dangerous because I knew he didn’t know how. Besides, it wasn’t the words that would be our undoing. It was the fear. And I didn’t know how to fix that.

But I kept it to myself.

I shoved the scary moments to the dark corners where I could ignore them. I did it because at the end of the day he still made me happier than I’d ever been. You don’t give up that kind of happiness just because the picture isn’t perfect.

So we move forward.

We stop.

And sometimes the whiplash is violent and painful.

But, he makes me happy.

We are happy.

So why do I feel like my world is one misstep away from crumbling around me?