Quinn Hughes | Skate to Me Slowly
48: Probably Fine
Live on:
Wattpad 🧡❤️🔥: here
Ao3 ❣️🖤: here
Aaaand
Tumblr: here⬇️
“You are not bringing that.”
Evie didn’t even look up. “I am absolutely bringing that.”
Andi stood in the middle of the room, one hand planted on her hip, the other holding up a soft cream sweater like it had personally offended her. “That is your ‘meeting his parents for the first time and trying not to spiral’ sweater. You already packed two of those.”
“They’re different,” Evie argued, finally glancing over, her fingers still working the zipper of the suitcase at her feet. “This one is… softer.”
Andi blinked at her. “They’re all soft. That’s the problem.”
The zipper caught halfway, teeth misaligning just enough to force Evie to tug it back with more effort than necessary. The sound cut sharp through the room, louder than it should’ve been.
She sighed, pushing a loose strand of hair out of her face. “I just don’t want to get it wrong.”
The words slipped out quieter than the rest, almost lost beneath the rustle of fabric.
Andi’s expression shifted, just a touch. Not softer, exactly—but more precise.
“You won’t,” she said, stepping closer and dropping the sweater onto the bed anyway. “You already have him. That was the hard part.”
Evie’s hands stilled for a second over the suitcase. She didn’t answer right away, just pressed the fabric down flatter than it needed to be, smoothing it once, twice.
Three suitcases sat open around her now, half-filled with neatly folded clothes that no longer felt like just clothes. Every piece felt like a decision. Like something that might say more about her than she intended.
“I don’t know,” she murmured. “This feels… bigger.”
Andi snorted softly, nudging one of the cases with her foot. “That’s because you packed like you’re relocating.”
Evie huffed out a small laugh despite herself. “I’m being prepared.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“Prepared.”
“Dramatic.”
Evie finally looked up at her, a reluctant smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. “You’re not helping.”
“I am helping,” Andi shot back, already crouching beside one of the suitcases. “I’m saving you from yourself.”
She reached in without hesitation, plucking out a pair of shoes.
“These? No.”
“Hey—”
“These are ‘walk two blocks and regret everything’ shoes.”
Evie tried to grab them back, but Andi held them just out of reach, unimpressed. “Trust me.”
Evie paused, then let her hand drop with a quiet exhale. “Okay… fine. Maybe not those.”
“Thank you,” Andi said, tossing them aside like a victory.
For a moment, the room settled into something quieter. The soft zip of fabric, the shift of hangers, the faint hum of music drifting in from the living room where voices—Quinn’s, Elias’—rose and fell in easy conversation.
Evie glanced toward the door without meaning to.
“Hey.” Andi’s voice pulled her back.
Evie blinked, refocusing.
“You’re allowed to be excited too, you know,” Andi said, gentler now. “It doesn’t have to just be stress and overthinking.”
Evie let out a small breath, her shoulders loosening just a fraction. “I am excited.”
“Good.”
“…I’m also kind of terrified.”
Andi smiled at that, not teasing this time. Just understanding.
“Yea,” she said. “That tracks.”
Evie laughed softly, shaking her head as she reached for the zipper again. This time it slid smoothly into place.
One suitcase done.
She sat back on her heels, looking at the lineup—three in total, all waiting.
It felt like a lot.
But it also felt… real.
Not something she was watching from the outside anymore.
Something she was stepping into.
“And that,” Andi said, zipping the last suitcase with finality, “is called restraint.”
Evie stared at the lineup.
Two full-sized suitcases. One smaller carry-on. Her purse resting on top like it had somehow survived the purge untouched.
“…It still feels like a lot,” she muttered.
Andi snorted, nudging one of the bigger cases with her foot. “Trust me.”
Evie huffed out a laugh, reaching down to adjust the handle on the carry-on. “You literally took half my personality out of there.”
“I saved you space,” Andi corrected, already grabbing one of the handles and starting toward the door. “For souvenirs. Which are way more important than your sixth ‘safe’ sweater.”
Evie followed with the smaller case, shaking her head. “You’re so bossy.”
“And yet,” Andi tossed over her shoulder, “look how much better your life is when you listen to me.”
They rolled the luggage out into the main area, the wheels humming softly against the floor before coming to a stop near the door. The condo felt more open suddenly—emptier in a way that made Evie pause for just a second longer than she meant to.
Quinn and Elias were sprawled nearby, the low murmur of conversation cutting off as the girls emerged.
Elias glanced at the luggage, then back at Evie. “…That’s after the purge?”
Evie narrowed her eyes. “Don’t start.”
Quinn’s mouth twitched, clearly trying not to laugh as he pushed himself up from the couch. “It’s fine,” he said easily. “I’ve got room.”
“Of course you do,” Andi muttered under her breath, dropping onto the couch. “He probably packed like he’s going away for twelve hours, not a week.”
Quinn shot her a look, amused. “Efficiency.”
“Laziness,” she challenged.
Evie sank down beside Andi, letting herself relax for the first time since they’d started packing. The tension in her shoulders eased, replaced by something lighter—familiar. Safe.
For a few minutes, it was easy.
Conversation drifted—half jokes, half nonsense. Elias chimed in with dry one-liners that landed just late enough to be funnier, Andi firing back without missing a beat. Quinn stayed quieter, but his attention kept slipping back to Evie, like he was tracking her without thinking about it.
At one point, his knee bumped hers under the table.
He didn’t move it.
Neither did she.
Eventually, Quinn leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs, glancing toward the door. “We should probably head over,” he said, tone casual but purposeful. “Get your stuff in the car, grab mine.”
The shift was subtle, but it landed.
Evie nodded, pushing herself to stand. “Yea… okay.”
Andi stood too, pulling her into a quick hug before she could overthink it. “Text me when you land,” she said into her hair.
“I will.”
“And if you forget—”
“I won’t.”
“…I’ll still judge you.”
Evie laughed softly, squeezing her once before pulling back. “Take care of Milo.”
Andi smirked. “Please. He’s already emotionally moved on.”
“Rude.”
“Accurate.”
Elias gave Quinn a brief nod as he stood, grabbing his jacket. “Text me when you get there.”
“Yea,” Quinn replied, easy.
Then it was movement again—shoes, keys, the soft shuffle of departure.
The door opened.
Closed.
And just like that, it was quieter.
⸻
The parkade air was cooler, carrying that faint concrete chill that clung to underground spaces. Their footsteps echoed softly as they made their way toward Quinn’s SUV, the sound of rolling luggage bouncing lightly between the pillars.
Quinn took over without asking, lifting the heavier cases into the back with practiced ease. Evie lingered near the side, watching him for a second—how automatic it all looked. Like he’d done this a hundred times.
Like bringing her along fit into something he already understood.
“That’s everything?” he asked, glancing back at her.
She nodded. “Yea.”
He gave a small nod in return, closing the trunk with a solid thud. Then he jerked his head slightly toward the elevator. “Come on.”
The ride up was quiet, but not awkward. Just… contained. The hum of the elevator, the soft shift of movement as it climbed.
When the doors opened, Quinn stepped out first, keys already in hand.
His place felt the same as it always did—clean, calm, faintly carrying his scent in a way that made something in her chest tighten without warning.
Evie stepped inside, glancing around as he moved past her, already grabbing a duffle from the closet.
He tossed it onto the bed.
Then reached for a suitcase.
That was it.
Evie blinked.
“…That’s all you’re bringing?”
Quinn looked over at her, mildly confused. “Yea.”
She stared at the two bags. Then back at him. “Quinn.”
“What?”
“I have three suitcases.”
“I noticed.”
Her mouth fell open slightly. “How do you function like that?”
He shrugged, unbothered, folding a shirt and tossing it into the duffle. “I bring what I need.”
“What if you forgot something?”
“I didn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
He glanced up then, a faint smirk pulling at his mouth. “Doesn’t matter.”
Evie crossed her arms, trying not to smile. “That is not a real answer.”
“It works.”
She shook her head, laughing under her breath as she wandered a little closer, perching on the edge of the bed. “You’re insane.”
“And you overpack.”
“Prepared.”
“Dramatic.”
“Prepared,” she repeated, nudging his knee lightly with hers.
He didn’t move away.
Instead, he stepped closer, just enough that the space between them shifted.
“Hey,” he said, quieter now.
She looked up.
“You ready?”
It wasn’t a big question.
But it felt like one.
Evie held his gaze for a second longer than necessary… then nodded.
“Yea,” she said softly.
And then—
“Actually… wait.”
Quinn barely had time to register the shift before her hand caught the front of his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric as she tugged him forward.
The kiss landed soft at first—quick, almost like she’d second-guessed it halfway through.
But he didn’t.
His hand came up instinctively, settling at her waist as he leaned into it, deepening the kiss without hesitation. It slowed, then sharpened—familiar, easy, like slipping back into something they already knew how to do.
Evie let out a quiet breath against his mouth as he stepped closer, guiding her back just enough that her balance tipped and she landed against the mattress with a soft bounce.
“Quinn—” she started, half-laughing, half-breathless.
He followed her down, one hand braced beside her, the other still at her waist as he hovered just above her. Close enough that she could feel the warmth of him, the weight without the pressure.
His mouth brushed hers again—slower this time. Teasing.
And then—
just enough of a shift.
A subtle press of his body against hers that made her inhale sharply, her fingers tightening where they still held onto his shirt.
His smirk was instant.
“Careful,” he murmured, low, like he knew exactly what he was doing.
Evie narrowed her eyes, though her lips betrayed her. “You’re the worst.”
“Mm,” he hummed, clearly unconcerned.
Another second passed.
Then two.
And just when it felt like he might lean back in again—
he pulled away.
Just enough to look at her properly.
“…We should go,” he said, a quiet laugh slipping into his voice. “Unless you want to explain to everyone why we missed our flight.”
Evie blinked at him.
Then glared.
Not real anger—just enough bite to make it known she’d been very aware of what he’d just started.
“You’re unbelievable.”
He grinned, pushing himself up and offering her a hand. “C’mon.”
She took it, letting him pull her up, still shaking her head under her breath as she smoothed out her clothes.
“Tease,” she muttered.
“Prepared,” he shot back lightly.
She huffed out a laugh despite herself.
⸻
The elevator ride down felt shorter this time.
Or maybe quieter.
Evie stood beside him, arms loosely folded, still aware of the way her pulse hadn’t fully settled. Of the way something warm lingered just under her skin from the way he’d looked at her.
The doors opened.
The parkade air greeted them again—cool, grounding.
Quinn moved ahead, unlocking the SUV with a soft click before reaching for the driver’s side. Evie slipped into the passenger seat, the door closing with a solid, familiar thud.
For a moment, it was just the quiet hum of the engine starting.
Then movement.
Out of the parkade.
Into the city.
The world outside shifted from concrete grey to early light, the roads stretching out ahead of them as the morning began to take shape.
Evie rested back into the seat, one hand loosely gripping the edge of her purse in her lap. Her thoughts felt quieter now—but not empty.
Just… full.
In a different way.
Quinn’s hand found her without looking.
Resting just above her knee, warm and steady against her thigh like it belonged there.
Not asking.
Not checking.
Just there.
Evie glanced down at it for a second, then out the window again, her lips curving faintly.
There was a flicker of nerves still—soft, persistent—but it didn’t feel overwhelming anymore.
Not like before.
Because this time, she wasn’t stepping into it alone.
And as the city slowly gave way to the road ahead, she let herself lean into that feeling instead.
Safe.
And a little bit… excited.
By the time Evie really registered where they were, they were already seated.
No lines. No waiting. No rush of people pressing too close.
Just quiet.
The cabin felt different from the rest of the plane—softer somehow. The seats were wide, leather smooth beneath her fingertips as she adjusted slightly, testing the space without meaning to. There was room between them and the aisle, a subtle separation that made everything feel… calmer. More private.
Evie glanced around, taking it in.
“Quinn…” she said slowly, lowering her voice like she might break something if she spoke too loud. “What is this?”
He didn’t even look up at first, just reaching over to adjust something near her armrest before settling back into his own seat. “What?”
“This,” she repeated, gesturing vaguely at everything. “This is not normal plane seating.”
He huffed out a quiet breath that almost passed for a laugh. “It’s just first class.”
She blinked at him. “Just.”
His mouth twitched slightly.
Evie leaned back into the seat again, her hand brushing along the edge of the armrest, then down to where the controls were built in. She pressed one experimentally and the seat shifted subtly beneath her.
“…Okay,” she muttered. “No, this is actually insane.”
Quinn finally glanced over, watching her with that same quiet amusement he always seemed to have when she was figuring something out in real time.
“You comfortable?” he asked.
Evie looked at him like that wasn’t even a question. “I feel like I shouldn’t be allowed to be this comfortable.”
“Good,” he said simply.
She shook her head, laughing softly to herself before her gaze drifted forward. The screen in front of her flickered to life as she tapped it, options lighting up—movies, shows, music—more than she could ever realistically go through on a flight this short.
“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” she said after a second, quieter now.
“I know.”
The answer came easy. No hesitation.
Evie turned her head slightly, studying him.
“Then why did you?”
Quinn leaned back into his seat, one arm resting along the edge of the armrest between them. His expression didn’t change much—still calm, still grounded—but there was something quieter underneath it.
“Because I wanted to.”
That was it.
No big explanation.
No performance.
Just truth.
Evie looked at him for a second longer than she meant to… then glanced away, a small smile pulling at her mouth as she settled back into her seat again.
Of course he did.
A flight attendant passed by then, offering drinks with a soft smile. Quinn ordered without much thought, something simple. Evie followed, still half-distracted by everything around her.
When the plane finally began to move, the low hum building beneath them, she felt it again—that soft flicker of nerves.
Not sharp.
Not overwhelming.
Just… there.
Her hand rested loosely in her lap, fingers curling slightly as the plane picked up speed.
And then—
warmth.
Quinn’s hand settled against her thigh again, just above her knee. The same way it had in the car.
Steady.
Familiar.
Like he wasn’t even thinking about it.
Evie exhaled slowly, her shoulders easing back into the seat as she turned her head just enough to glance at him.
He didn’t say anything.
Didn’t need to.
Her fingers shifted slightly, brushing against his wrist for just a second before settling again.
The plane lifted.
The city dropped away beneath them.
And somewhere between the ground disappearing and the clouds taking its place, Evie felt it settle fully in her chest.
She was really going.
With him.
And this time, instead of overthinking it—
she let herself enjoy the ride.
