“For fuck’s sake, Quinn.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but I know how you get.”
“What I’m getting right now is irritated. I’m tired, go to sleep.”
“OK, OK.”
I’d like to say we spooned all night, but I probably only lasted about twenty minutes before I got too hot, rolled onto my stomach, and hitched up my knee between us.
But I tried—that counts, right?
And even though we weren’t wrapped up in each other all night, I did like knowing he was there in my bed. The couple times I woke up and remembered the night before, I smiled into my pillow, happier than I’d been in a long time.
In the morning, I woke up first and lay on my side, facing him. He was beautiful even in his sleep, his features completely relaxed. Lying on his back, he had one arm thrown over his head, and I had the weirdest urge to sniff his armpit. (Don’t judge. As armpits go, it’s pretty much perfect.)
I refrained from pit sniffing, but I couldn’t resist touching his chest, which was visible above the top of the sheet. Scooting a little closer, I traced a line down the center of his sternum with my fingertips, then covered one pectoral muscle with my palm.
His eyes opened, and he smiled. “Hey.”
I smiled too. “Hey.”
“How’d you sleep?”
“Great. You?”
“Same. What time is it?”
“I have no idea. I never brought my phone in here.”
“Me either. I’m not even sure where my clothes are. That seems to happen a lot around you.”
I giggled. “I think they’re in a variety of places between our two flats.”
“It was a good night.”
“It was.” I kept looking at him, waiting for the remorse to kick in, the urge for him to leave, the compulsion to be by myself…but I felt none of that. Not only was I happy he was there, but I didn’t want him to go.
“We broke a rule,” he said, a sly grin on his face. “Are you mad at us?”
I propped my head in my hand. “Actually, no. Can you believe it?”
“No.” His eyes went wide, twinkling with mischief. “Does this mean…”
I reached out and put two fingers over his lips. “No. It means I had fun and I’m glad you stayed the night.”
He kissed my fingers and grabbed my wrist. “Party pooper. Get over here.” Pulling me close, he gathered me into his chest, arms wrapped around my head, chin resting on top of it. “Give me ten seconds of excessive cuddling, and then I’ll let you go.”
I groaned for effect, but if he could have seen my face, he’d have known how happy I was.
What on earth was happening?
Three days later, I met Claire and Margot for our weekly GNO. It was my turn to pick the place, and I chose Standby, a relatively new bar in the Belt Alley that had great cocktails and delicious small plates.
I got there first, ordered a Vermilion Fizz, and took a minute to text Quinn. Hey. At Standby with girls. See you tonight?
Definitely. Have fun and knock when you get home.
After that there was a little bumblebee emoji, which Quinn had designated the “love bug.” Shaking my head, I quickly checked his Instagram account, where he’d posted a pic from this morning. I’d probably looked at it a hundred times already today, but I couldn’t resist peeking at it again. We’d still been lying in his bed, and he’d snapped a selfie right as he kissed my cheek, which I didn’t even realize because I was laughing at something he’d said and my eyes were closed. My hair was a mess and the picture was kind of blurry, but it captured us perfectly. His caption was simply This girl. #wcw #sweetpea