She pushes up her glasses with a slim index finger. “It’s a little known secret that you can get the best coffee in New York City at your local bodega.”
Fuck, she’s so cute. “Is that right?”
Her nod is solemn.
“Take me to the closest bodega, then.”
She glances back at the studio door. “What about your sisters?”
“I sent them shoe shopping.” So I could be alone with you. “That should occupy them for the next week or so.”
Quinn giggles and I check the urge to adjust myself. God, she’s having a crazy effect on me. I’m not a player or anything, but I’ve dated steadily since I was old enough to drive. Not a single one of the girls I’ve taken out made me this hot. Made me this protective. Made me want to know every single detail about her, down to the minute she was born.
Take it easy. You’re going slow, remember?
Hell, she might not even be interested in me. She might want some upper crust type, right? Some lucky bastard who’ll bring her to the opera and make deals on the golf course.
I realize I’m clenching my fist so tight, my nails have broken the skin on my palms.
If I want to take this slow, I can’t think of her with another man.
The very idea makes me want to drag her into the closest hotel and lay my claim.
“Desmond?” She toes the sidewalk. “Did you change your mind?”
“Hell no, sweetheart.” I take her elbow and steer her away from the studio. “One thing about me is I never change my mind, once it’s made up.”
“Me either.” She nods briskly. “I know exactly what I want as soon as I look at the menu.”
“What about in other areas of your life?”
She looks up at me. “What other areas?”
A knot forms in my chest and I remember what she said during filming. I hide at home…usually…in between appointments. I thought, maybe, this would make me uncomfortable and…
“Never mind, sweetheart,” I say, gruffly. “You know a good bodega in this neighborhood?”
“No,” she says, chewing her lip. “But there’s one every five blocks—” She cuts herself off, beaming at something in the distance. “There’s one.”
I slide my hand up and settle it on her shoulder, making sure all the cars have stopped before guiding her across the street. “Great. I’m buying.”
A few minutes later, we’re standing inside the bodega with our paper cups of doctored coffee in our hands. Quinn seems to be more interested in my reaction than her own drink, however. She leans in a little when I take a sip, holding her breath, eyes wide. “Well? What do you think?”
The hot liquid slides down my throat, the perfect combination of bitter and rich, prompting me to let out a satisfied groan. “I think I’ve been wasting my money.” I examine the cup. “Holy shit, I can’t believe this was a dollar.”
She’s bouncing she’s so excited. “Right? I wish more people knew.”
I sigh dramatically. “I guess it’s only fair I take you to dinner with the money I’m saving.”
Her movements cease. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
“Jesus, Quinn. I want to,” I say, laughing.
“Really?” Her brow remains furrowed and I swear to Christ, I almost kiss her then and there, so she’ll realize taking her out will be the furthest thing from a chore for me. Truthfully, I’m kind of pissed off this woman has no idea she’s a ten. No, a twenty.
Who is responsible for this?
Unless…
She’s just playing dumb until I give up, because I’m not her type.
Thinking like that makes my stomach twist.
“Do you date a lot, sweetheart?”
She pauses halfway through a sip, lowering her cup. “No. I haven’t at all, actually.” Pink stains her cheeks and I watch a slow transformation take her over. One second she seems kind of embarrassed, the next she’s squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin. “No guts, no glory,” she mutters to herself. “Actually, Desmond, I was kind of wondering…”
“Yeah?”
“W-well, you’re just so charismatic and confident, you know? Look how you just approached me and suggested coffee. I could never do that. I’d be too worried about saying the wrong thing or getting rejected or being boring if the person said yes. And I just thought…actually, I was thinking earlier…” She closes her eyes and blurts the rest. “What if you could teach me to be more confident like that?”
Oh, sweetheart. How is she not in my arms yet? I’m aching over here. “Quinn, you should be confident. You’re amazing.”
“I…” She rears back a little, surprised. “Thank you, but being confident is easier said than done. Is there no way you’d consider…a lesson?”
“A lesson.”
“You think I’m crazy for suggesting it.”
“I didn’t say that.” A million questions vie for attention in my head, but one stands out more than the others. “You want a lesson from me so you can ask out other men?”