My heart started to pound.
Why had I done it? What had made me so hungry for Quinn that I’d broken one of my ironclad rules? What did this mean?
Calm down. You were hungry for Quinn’s dick, that’s all. It’s a nice one.
True. Maybe that was it.
But…but what about the big heart thing? And
the New York thing? And the way we had such fun playing each other’s little chicken games?
Exactly—playing. You’re great playmates. Friends. And it’s OK to miss your friends when they go away. And it’s nice that he gave you a compliment, but for fuck’s sake, don’t be stupid. You don’t have that big a heart, and even if you did, it’s impenetrable.
I breathed a little easier.
Right. Quinn hadn’t worn protection, but I had.
I always did.
I took off my boots and traded my lace romper for some flannel pants and a sweatshirt before going back out to the living room, where Quinn had turned on a lamp. He was completely dressed again but holding his coat and scarf, looking at some pictures I had framed on the mantle.
“When was that?” He gestured to a photo of Claire, Margot, and me in formal dresses.
I went and stood next to him, arms crossed over my chest. “Prom.”
“Cute. And that one is Alex’s college graduation?”
“Yeah, I didn’t walk in mine.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Too much fanfare, I guess? I’d earned the degree; that’s what mattered to me, not the silly hat.”
“You are truly a no-frills woman.”
“I guess so.”
He turned toward me. “Everything OK?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” I met his eyes, but I had to work very hard to keep my expression neutral. I didn’t want him to think this was anything different than what I said it would be. That he was anything more to me. That this mattered.
Because it didn’t. It couldn’t.
“I don’t know.” He knitted his brows. “You seem a little off.”
“Well, I’m not. I’m fine.” Cool as a cucumber.
“OK.” He looked at me a moment longer, trying to read me, and I willed my face to stay impassive.
“Maybe I’m tired,” I said.
“Of course. I’ll let you get some sleep.” He leaned over to kiss me, and I gave him my cheek. At the brush of his stubble on my skin, my insides swirled a little, remembering the feel of it between my legs. He left his lips on my cheek a moment, then straightened up. “Night.”
“Night,” I said, walking toward the door. At this point I didn’t trust myself to look him in the eye. I opened it and he walked out without another word.
After I closed it behind him, I stood there staring at the door, chewing on a thumbnail, hating myself for being so cold to him after such a nice night.
The knock on the door startled me.