Afterward, I craved him more than ever.
What the hell was I going to do?
My pride would not allow for a third attempt at seduction, not after I’d failed so miserably the first two times. What was wrong with him, anyway? Had I not made it clear that I don’t want a boyfriend, but I do want sex? What kind of guy turns down an offer like that?
It got me thinking. Who was Quinn Rusek, anyway? Maybe there was more to him than meets the eye (not that there was anything wrong with what met the eye, mind you).
I needed to focus.
I needed to figure him out.
Then I needed a strategy to make him want me.
I’d get my fill of him—literally—and then he could be on his way. Out of my house, out of my head, out of my life.
Over the next ten days, I carefully avoided talking to Quinn while at the same time paying close attention to everything he did. I even made a list:
Works out early Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday mornings.
Goes to class MWF mornings, must work out later those afternoons.
Late classes Tuesday and Thursday evenings.
Cooks his own dinners (have smelled Italian things, chicken things, possibly steak after getting home at night).
Binge watches Game of Thrones and House of Cards.
Takes out the trash and recycling bins (even mine) without being asked.
Sings Beatles songs in the shower sometimes (fave might be Rocky Raccoon, voice not too bad).
Wears size 12 shoe (left pair of boots in the hall to dry).
Wears size 32/34 jeans (left pair of jeans in the dryer).
Posts selfies to IG once a day (shirtless if inside, has perfected the Flynn Ryder smolder)
Gradually a picture was emerging of Quinn as a polite tenant, fitness buff, good student, vainglorious photographer, and generally happy, well-adjusted person.
Who wasn’t interested in me.
“I don’t understand,” I complained to Claire and Margot over martinis at our weekly Wednesday GNO. “He was all about me that first night he moved in, and he’s ignored me ever since!”
“Wait a minute, you just said you’ve been trying
to avoid him for the last ten days,” Claire said, sipping her Cosmo. “How is that him ignoring you?”
“There have been plenty of nights where he must have heard me come in.” I refused to let him off the hook. “He could have come up like he did the first time.”
“Why would he? You told him you weren’t attracted to him.” Margot blinked at me. “You told him to keep his hands to himself, did you not?”
“I said maybe I wasn’t attracted to him,” I reminded her. “And that was only to get him to kiss me.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” Claire said, shaking her head. “And you never get this way over a guy.”
She was right. If I wanted someone, I went after him. If it was fun, maybe we’d make it work for a little while.
But Quinn wasn’t playing fair!