Out of Frame Read online

  Titles by Megan Erickson

  Focus on Me

  Trust the Focus

  Out of Frame

  Out of Frame

  Megan Erickson

  InterMix Books, New York

  An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014

  OUT OF FRAME

  An InterMix Book / published by arrangement with the author

  Copyright © 2016 by Megan Erickson.

  Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

  INTERMIX and the “IM” design are trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.

  For more information about The Berkley Publishing Group, visit penguin.com.

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-101-98860-2

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  InterMix eBook edition / March 2016

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Version_1

  Contents

  Titles by Megan Erickson

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Quinn

  I wanted to pretend I was Kate Winslet, gazing at the large cruise ship from under the wide brim of my black-and-white hat.

  But this wasn’t the Titanic, and I wasn’t a statuesque woman with curves. This was Fort Lauderdale. In 2015. Our boat was the Coastal Mia of the Coastal Cruise Lines. And I was a ginger college student who needed at least SPF 50 so I didn’t broil red like a lobster.

  I glanced at my best friend beside me as she shaded her eyes with her hand, blond hair whipping around her shoulders from the breeze rolling off the Atlantic Ocean. Jess turned her blue eyes to me and winked. “This is it, Quinn. How long have we talked about doing this?”

  I inhaled the pungent sea air and let out an extended breath. “A long time.”

  We were misers in college, working every chance we could at our on-campus jobs and then at her parents’ barbecue restaurant during the summers and over breaks. For four years. Now this was it, our senior year spring break, and we planned to live it up.

  If I knew what live it up meant. I wasn’t so sure.

  “Damn right, a long time,” she said, nodding her head for effect. “And now it’s our time.”

  A shadow loomed over us as Jess’s older brother set her large pink suitcase down on the ground beside her. My mouth always went a little dry at the sight of Colin. He was my first crush, before I knew what a crush was. Before I realized that said crush meant I was gay. He still gave me funny feelings in my stomach, that hot flash of attraction. He’d only ever seen me as his little sister’s shy best friend. And that was okay. He was happy now, with a boyfriend he loved and who loved him back. He wasn’t for me, and it’d taken me a long time to get over that first crush, but I had.

  He placed his hands on his hips. “Did you pack the whole house, Jess? Damn, you’re only going to be gone for a week.”

  “I need outfit options,” she said.

  “Exactly.” Riley stepped next to Colin and rubbed his boyfriend’s elbow. “Outfit options are a must, Mr. I-Pack-Three-Pants-For-Five-Days.”

  “Jeans always fit better after you wear ’em a coupla times,” Colin said.

  Riley patted his boyfriend’s denim-clad ass. “’Course they do.” He turned toward the boat and the crowd beginning to board. “You guys are going to have so much fun.”

  “Baby, we can go on a cruise if you want,” Colin said in that deep drawl he had.

  Riley rolled his big brown eyes. “No way. I had a shoot one time on a boat. I had to lean halfway over the railing and it was windy and my eyes were watering and I was half sick to my stomach. And I was wearing only a jockstrap.”

  I now had a mental image that was really attractive, but then I felt guilty for perving on Colin’s boyfriend.

  Colin’s gaze shifted to Jess and me, his cheeks a little pink, then back to his boyfriend. “I’m thinking you could have left off that last sentence in mixed company.”

  Riley winked at me. “Not sure anyone minded, right, Quinn?”

  I swallowed, but my tongue felt thick in my mouth. I managed to croak out a “Right.”

  Riley flashed me a smile, then flipped his bangs out of his eyes and surveyed the ship. He had an overt sexiness about him, the way he moved his mouth, the way he walked and talked. He was . . . really everything I wasn’t. I was that awkward gay kid who’d never felt right in his own skin, not a beautiful graceful gay like Riley.

  But really, the way Colin looked at Riley, the guy could have been a hunchback with horns and Colin still would have loved him.

  An ache bloomed in my chest. I rubbed it and stared at my feet. That had been the problem with my ex-boyfriend. No matter how much I had pretended he did, he never once looked at me like Colin and Riley looked at each other. Not ever. And especially not in public, because . . . I shook my head. This wasn’t the time to be broody or pissed off or any of the other myriad emotions that floated to the surface of my mind like debris when I thought about Alexander. This was the time to have the best week of my life aboard a cruise ship with my best friend, hundreds of other college students, and cast members of the reality show Trip League.

  So I wrapped my fingers around the handle of my wheeled suitcase and gripped the strap of my messenger bag across my chest. “Ready?” I asked Jess.

  “More than ready,” she answered.

  We said good-bye to Colin and Riley, the former telling us to be careful and safe, and the latter telling us, with a sly grin, not to do anything he wouldn’t do.

  We went through the security line first, where our bags were checked inside and out. The male security guard seemed extra interested in a red lace bra of Jess’s. She glared at him the whole time and snatched her bag as soon as he was finished. Then she rolled it away quickly, whipping her hair over her shoulder with a haughty toss of her head. I followed, my gaze cast down to hide my smile.

  We stood in line on the ramp leading into the ship, waiting to board. A group of passengers beside us had clearly started the party early. Or more likely, they hadn’t stopped from the night before. At nine thirty in the morning, I could smell the beer rolling off them. A girl in the group, probably one of their girlfriends, was slumped over her suitcase.

  I couldn’t imagine boarding the boat like that. What if one of them had missed their alarm and they hadn’t arriv
ed at the boat on time? I’d set my phone alarm, Jess’s alarm, my watch, and scheduled a wake-up call for the front desk at the hotel. Jess didn’t even bat an eye, because she was well acquainted with my crazy.

  I nudged Jess and jerked my head in their direction. She raised her eyebrows at them, then turned to me. “Hey, that could be you later, but you’ll be sick because of the boat, not alcohol, Mr. I-Puke-On-All-Forms-of-Transportation.”

  I shook my hand and rummaged in the side pocket of my book bag, then pulled out a small plastic package. Jess squinted at the contents. “What’s that?”

  “Sea-Bands.”

  “Sea-Bands?”

  I touched the cotton wristbands through the clear plastic, feeling silly now. “My, uh, mom knows I get motion sickness, so she bought me these.” I pointed to a small white bead on the wristband. “That sits over your pressure point. Supposed to ease the nausea.” Jess stared at me with big eyes, and as my cheeks heated, I mumbled, “Whatever, probably won’t need them,” then I shoved them back into my book bag.

  “Quinn,” she said.

  “Drop it.” I stared at the people in front of me, willing this line to hurry up or I’d throw myself overboard.

  “Quinn.”

  I sighed and slowly rolled my eyes to her. “Yes.”

  “One thing.”

  “Just one?”

  “Please, for the love of God, do not wear those things. What are you, a senior citizen?” I couldn’t help it, I began to laugh. So did Jess as she wrapped her arm around my shoulders and pressed a kiss to my temple. “I love you, I really do. You have such an old soul. But let’s tap into the college senior in there somewhere and have a good time, all right?”

  I wanted to, I really did. It was like I couldn’t turn off . . . well . . . me. The Quinn who analyzed every situation and decision, weighing the pros and cons and consequences. It was always about the consequences. We hadn’t even gotten on the boat and I was prepared to wear Sea-Bands, a hat, and zinc on my nose.

  I should just get out my loafers and be done with it. Join AARP and buy a Buick.

  Sometimes I wondered if that was why I couldn’t make relationships last. I couldn’t relax and enjoy life. Jess, who I’d known since elementary school, understood me and my neuroses and let me be me, even when I didn’t want to be me.

  I let out a heavy breath. “I think I need a drink.” I gestured to the drunkies behind me with my thumb. “I mean, maybe not, uh, that much to drink, but enough to loosen up.”

  Jess nodded. “I think that will be our first mission. Get into our cabin, then find the bar.”

  “And scope out the casino.”

  “And the buffet.”

  “Mmmm, buffet,” I said, rubbing my stomach.

  “And,” Jess said, lowering her voice, “Casey Arlington.” Her eyes turned dreamy as she gazed ahead of us to the entrance of the ship.

  I shook my head. “You’re crazy.” Casey was a cast member of Trip League. A jock with sandy blond hair and green eyes and a brilliant white smile. And Jess had convinced herself she was half in love with him.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s hot.”

  I pulled a face and waffled my hand.

  “Don’t you start.” She pointed a finger at me. “You just wait until we see him in person. I guarantee he’s hotter in person than on TV.”

  “I sure hope so,” I muttered.

  She ignored me.

  Trip League was a reality show in its third season. The cast was billed as regular people picked to travel to exotic locales while being filmed. The cruise ship was this season’s big send-off, a party before the next cast would be chosen. We’d managed to score tickets to the cruise while huddled at our computers, fingers hovering over the keyboard so we could click as soon as they went on sale. There’d be cameras on the ship, too, and I thought it was kind of genius on the show producer’s part, because the drama among the cast and spring breakers could be high.

  Me? Well, I wanted a glimpse of J. R. Butler. My crush on the guy was the rare secret I kept from Jess. Mostly because I knew one of her favorite pastimes was hating on the guy. I didn’t really blame her, honestly. He was kind of a jerk. He was also straight and had a girlfriend back home.

  Why I liked him was a mystery even to me. But I couldn’t take my eyes off him when he was on TV. He had dark skin and deep, warm brown eyes, his hair shaved close to his head. He was built, too, with big, bulging muscles. On the ship, I planned to observe him from afar. There was no way I wanted to meet him and find out that he was really as much of an asshole in real life as he was on the show. Everything about my attraction to him—my fascination—felt private.

  Jess craned her neck to see why we were at a standstill. “Who are you looking forward to seeing? I hope J. R. doesn’t pull his usual bullshit and get in a fight,” Jess said.

  I wanted to tell her that he had only started one fight. One. And now everywhere the cast went, it seemed like people wanted a rise out of him, so they goaded him until he gave in and acted like the asshole they all knew he’d be.

  At least, that’s what I thought. That’s what I pretended to believe, because it was what I wanted to believe—that there was more to him than that.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Everyone, I guess.”

  She didn’t ask me to elaborate.

  When we boarded the ship, we were handed a pamphlet of information along with our room key. There was a map to the ship, and although I had seen the outside of it, having a map of Mia made her seem . . . larger. There were ballrooms and dining rooms, two casinos, an indoor pool, and passenger cabins. She was immense, and my stomach fluttered as we walked to our cabin.

  I was here. On a cruise ship. With my best friend.

  We were going to party. And eat lots of food. And do all the things we hadn’t done as we worked our asses off for four years just to get to this point. I was going to act like a real, live college student rather than the old man I’d been since birth.

  And I couldn’t freaking wait.

  Our cabin was tiny, which we had known about ahead of time, but it was still a lot different actually being there, bumping elbows and knocking heads, laughing as we tried to maneuver around each other and our luggage. Jess made me choose the top or bottom bunk and I chose bottom. Which she turned into a joke and then we were laughing all over again. She tumbled onto my bottom bunk bed.

  “I think I’m drunk on cruise ship air,” she said, gasping to catch her breath as she sat up on my mattress.

  I plopped down beside her and brushed my bangs out of my eyes. “Well, I’d prefer to get drunk the old-fashioned way.”

  We held the map between us, looking for a place to eat before we explored the ship. I pointed to one of the many red circles on the map. “What are those?”

  Jess squinted at the map, then began to rifle through the bag we were given at boarding. She pulled out a slip of paper. “Ah, here it is, that’s what I thought.”

  “What’s what you thought?”

  “That’s where the live-feed cameras are.”

  I stared at her. “What?”

  She didn’t look at me, her eyes on the paper she was holding. “Yeah, the live-feed cameras, remember? We had to sign a waiver when we bought the tickets.”

  I rubbed my damp palms on my shorts and tried to count to ten in my head, which now felt like it was filled with cotton. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry. “Excuse me?”

  She looked up and frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I need some more information on these live cameras, as in . . . what are they?!” My voice ended on a shout, and Jess’s head reared back.

  “Did you not read the paperwork?”

  “Apparently not.” My voice was a squeak. I always read the paperwork. Always, but when we signed up for this trip, I had an assign
ment due for one of my core classes, and I must have not read as well as I should have . . . I dropped my head between my knees.

  Jess rubbed my back. “I swore you knew! I thought we talked about this! In addition to the crew, there are cameras rigged up around the ship, which will show a live feed that viewers can watch in real time at home.”

  “Oh my God,” I moaned. I knew there’d be cameras, but not live-feed cameras.

  “It’ll be okay,” she said, and she sounded like she was reassuring herself more than me. I knew coming onto this ship that I could be on TV, but I was sure I’d be able to mostly stay away from the cameras. I was Quinn Mathers, after all; I was an expert at not getting noticed, even when I actually wanted to. But with live cameras all over the ship . . . oh no. The thought of people at home watching me in real time felt so much worse, more intrusive.

  “I’m sorry, just give me a minute.” I tried to work on my cleansing breaths.

  “Sure.”

  “Tell me a story or something.”

  Jess paused. “Remember in high school when we made my homecoming video?”

  I smiled despite my racing heartbeat. Jess had been nominated for homecoming court, and we’d made a video to get people to vote for her to be queen. “Yeah.”

  “You played the part of a drowning guy in the ocean and I had to save you.”

  “Except the undertow took you under, and I ended up saving you?”

  She laughed. “You were so dashing.” She ruffled my hair. “You’ll be fine. Just another face in a crowd of spring breakers. As long as you don’t hook up with Levi, you’ll be okay.”

  I lifted my head and shot her a look. “No.” He was the token gay cast member, and while he was nice and all—and objectively hot—he didn’t do anything for me. Which was good. Spring break flings would only lead to problems and complications. Bad consequences.

  “See?” She held up her hands. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  I took a deep breath, my heartbeat returning to normal, although I was still shaky. “How about that drink?”