Chasing My Forever (Beaumont: Next Generation 3) - Page 3

wn hands right now. No one wants to deal with the aftermath. So, I stay single. It’s just easier that way. It also probably doesn’t help that I’m shy.

I do find some entertainment in Fortnite. Noah, Ben, and I have become addicted, which doesn’t make my sisters happy. When it comes to Peyton, I understand. She likes to kick our asses at Madden and isn’t very good at Fortnite. For Elle, she doesn’t understand the infatuation. If we turned on Rock Band, she’d probably join in.

Before I start to unpack, I turn on the air conditioner and open my windows to let my apartment air out. I know I’m not supposed to do this, but there’s no other way.

Downstairs, laughter from the pool rings out. I figured after Elle moved out, the partying would stop, but it’s only intensified. Night after night, the co-eds are doing something in the common area of the complex. It doesn’t bother me, except I don’t have the courage to go down and introduce myself to my neighbors. If Elle were here, it’d be a different story. The revolving door that our place used to be, is no longer.

Being on the yacht for the past week has really shown me that I need to get out there and find someone. Watching Peyton with Noah and Elle with Ben, showed me just how much I’m a fifth wheel or third when one of the couples isn’t around. I’m the tagalong they take because they feel sorry for me. Even when I’m with my parents, it’s them and me. I never have anyone with me. I know part of it is because I’m afraid of what the women in my life would do to the person I brought home. I have a hard enough time putting myself out there, let alone, introducing someone to my mom.

I give up on unpacking my clothes and head into the living room after a quick detour to the kitchen for a beer and stopping to grab the PlayStation remote. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I look at the time. Ben could be home by now, but Noah isn’t. He and Peyton are headed to Portland until she starts her job. The pile of companies that want her is ridiculous and Noah tells her to take whatever job she wants because he’ll commute to her. It’s crazy how much he loves her.

Once my game loads, I’m battling, tearing through houses, destroying anything in my way as I head to the circle. Luck’s on my side this round because I have a sniper rifle and have perched myself high to look for my enemy. I spot one off in the distance. I’m not sure if they see me, but I zone in, tracking their every move. As soon as I pull the trigger, they’re jumping, trying to build a shelter so they don’t die, but I’m quicker and knock their fort down and hit them three or four times with bullets. Kill one in the books.

With my position now known, I jump down and head deeper into the circle, checking my map for the storm. It’s closing in, but I’m not in any danger of falling victim to it. I keep running until I can find higher ground or something to hide my location. As soon as I spot another enemy, I get into position and prepare to fire, just as my sister walks in.

She walks slowly by the TV, causing me to have to move side to side to see what’s going on with my game. Ben sits down next to me and starts giving me game strategy, which I don’t need. What I need is for my sister to move out of the way.

Gunfire starts and it’s not coming from me. “Elle, come on,” I say. She brushes me off and continues her phone call. After I die, I throw a magazine at her. She has the gall to give me a dirty look like I’ve done something wrong.

Ben laughs. “She does the same thing at home. I think she has some weird sixth sense about the game.”

“No, she’s a brat. We all thought after she pulled her head out of her ass and finally told you how she felt, she’d change, but nope!” I yell the last part, so she can hear me, but nothing fazes her. “Why are you guys here?” I hand him the controller, so he can play a round.

“We got home, and she started working. Next thing I know she’s telling me that we’re heading here. I think we were home maybe thirty minutes.”

“You should just move back. I think your apartment is still empty. Want a beer?”

“Sure,” he says, keeping his eyes focused on the TV. Ben’s the type of player who really gets into the game. He moves with the player, bites his lips, makes odd sounds and yells at his player when he makes them do something stupid.

I pull Elle’s ponytail as I pass her. She says something about music, band, and gigs. I should be interested, but I’m not. I still haven’t signed a representation deal with her, which is causing a bit of a family rift. My parents and Elle don’t understand why, probably because I haven’t told them what’s holding me back. Believe it or not, I’m content doing my coffee shop gigs. There’s no pressure to perform, I don’t have to go to rehearsals and if I want to jam, I call my dad and ask him when the band will be together next. This simple life is perfect for me.

Ben’s player is dead by the time I get back into the living room. “Didn’t take you long.”

“Picked the wrong village to pilfer.” He takes the bottle from me and twists the top off.

“I hate that.” I start the game, drawing the badass female avatar.

“Quinny,” Elle calls out. I ignore her. This nickname thing has started recently and can end anytime soon. I continue to play, even when she sits down between Ben and I. “Quinny,” she sings my name and starts pulling on my ear.

“I’ll beat your ass,” I tell her. It’s only a threat. I’ve never hit her or Peyton, although there have been times when I wanted to pummel both of them in a rousing game of sibling rivalry. This time she pulls my hair and I bat her hand away. “Imma break your fingers if you don’t stop.”

“We need to talk.”

“You pregnant? Want me to kick Ben’s ass for not using protection?”

“What? No,” she scoffs.

“Which is it? Not pregnant or you don’t want me to beat up your boyfriend?”

“Both and you know you wouldn’t do anything to Ben, let alone me. I, on the other hand, just love to torment you.”

“No kidding.” I die, finishing in second. Not too shabby. I hand the remote to Ben, who has decided to move to the footstool, instead of taking his girlfriend’s torture.

“Seriously, Quinn. We need to talk.” This time her tone is serious, and it has my heart in my throat. If something were wrong with our parents or Peyton, she would’ve told me already.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, but I want to talk to you about something.”

Tags: Heidi McLaughlin Beaumont: Next Generation Romance
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