Chasing Me (Quinn and James 2)

"Why didn't you tell her you hated beer?"

Startled at the question, I paused in my next sip. "How do you know?"

"Your face. It's expressive. You don't hide much."

"Doesn't matter. I don't drink much, anyway. Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?"

"Drinking?"

"No, showing how I feel."

"Good. Very good."

A warm hum sang between us. I cleared my throat and wished the others would come back. "I'm enjoying the extra classes."

He leaned back in the booth, holding his beer. "I can tell. You're extremely focused with your work."

I wrinkled my nose. "Yeah, my girlfriends are always trying to tell me to have more fun. People think I'm too serious."

"Does James agree?"

I flinched, dropped my gaze, and concentrated on my beer. "He helps me look at the world differently. Reminds me of things I usually forget."

Brian's voice went whisper-soft. "That's important. No one should go through life with limited vision. Yet something tells me you barely scratched the surface of who you really are, and what you'll do."

I sucked in my breath. The tension knotted tighter. It wasn't the same feeling I had when I was around James. No whipping, take-your-breath-away sexual chemistry. More like an awareness of who we were, and a familiarity I couldn't seem to wrap my head around. My mind screeched Danger Zone, even though we'd never touched and hadn't been inappropriate. But I felt guilty, and I couldn't figure out why.

I cleared my throat. "And you? Is work your world right now?"

"Yes. I graduated and got married right away."

I gasped, staring at him. "You're married?"

"Divorced." He slugged his beer then stretched his arms flat out on the table, his fingers a few inches from mine. His eyes held ghosts of the past. "We married too young. Didn't know who we were yet. A bunch of raw emotion and physical attraction does not make a future."

I squirmed in my seat. "What happened?"

"What happens to every young couple, mostly. We had different goals, work schedules conflicted, jealousy happened. We were torn apart. Got divorced two years later. We're friends now, though. Both of us happier, and different people now." He paused. "James seemed angry when I took you home the other night."

Uneasy, I wasn't sure what to say. "We're fine now," I said.

"Good. My ex-wife and I had a volatile relationship."

I wondered why he seemed to be giving me some type of warning. The intensity built again, and suddenly he leaned forward, sliding his hand across the table, stopping a few inches from my own hand but not touching me. "You remind me so much of myself," he muttered. "Ambitious, bright, the world ahead of you. Be careful with your choices, Quinn. The world is your oyster. Don't limit yourself."

My mouth opened to respond, though I didn't know what I was going to say to him, but then everyone came back from the table and ordered nachos and began gossiping, and the moment passed.

I stayed another fifteen minutes, finished my beer, and said my goodbyes. Carefully avoiding Brian's gaze, I shot out the door and headed home, wondering what he was trying to tell me.

I was afraid, though, I already knew.

But it could have been my overactive imagination. Why would someone his age, with his position, be attracted to me? I wasn't even out of college, hadn't truly begun my career, and wasn't the flashy type to catch a man's eye. James always told me differently, but I was never too into my appearance. Sure, I liked surprising James with fancy underwear or cool shoes once in a while, and loved when he got that animal look in his eye that warned me he was about to fuck me hard and long, but Brian was a completely different type.

I was probably going nuts.

James was waiting for me when I got home. He looked up from the battered red couch and smiled. The television blared in the background--some reality show--and he rolled to his feet. Without a word, he closed the distance, took hold of my shoulders, and yanked me in tight.

My heart clutched, and I sank into his warmth, my arms clinging to him, his hard muscles cradling my softness. He just held me for a while, rubbing my back, burying his head in my hair, and in that moment, everything righted itself and was pure and good and right.

"I missed you," he whispered in my ear. I shivered and clung tighter.

"Me, too. I hate when we fight."

"So do I. Let's not do it again."

I laughed. My body lit up in its familiar way whenever I was in his presence, welcoming him to do any bad and dirty thing to me. But he didn't. Just kept me close, as if struggling with something. I opened my mouth to let him know I went to the bar for a drink after work, and Brian had been there, but figured it would only upset him. No need to bring it up when nothing happened. Only if he asked. "Are you okay?" I asked softly.

He paused. "Yeah. Long day."

"Is Ava still giving you a hard time?"

He stiffened and pulled away. Not meeting my gaze, he took my hand and pulled me to the couch. I fell onto his lap and snuggled in. "I can handle it. I'm almost ready to show you my new portrait. I'm excited about it."

I pushed back his thick hair and peered at his face. I'd changed my mind about Ava, figuring she was one of those teachers who tortured the students who were really good, but his frustration was evident. I knew exactly how it felt to have a professor give me a hard time, and my endless goal to finally get her to like me. Having your entire career judged by one person was hard, especially when James already struggled with his

confidence in his abilities. Probably best to not question him further and let him work it out.

I stroked his muscular chest. He smelled like clean cotton, and his soft T-shirt stretched over strong shoulders, making me feel protected and safe. When I looked at his art, I felt like he left a piece of himself behind, hidden. I adored being around such talent, because I had none of that stuff. As a Virgo, I was earthly, solid, dependable, boring. Not James. He was bigger and brighter, and made me want to savor every part of his magic. I tried to tell him that many times, but he laughed it off, saying I was the one who made him a better man. I hoped he kept believing it.

"You'll be picked for the show," I said confidently.

"Sounds like a fairy tale where everything works out in the end."

"Don't you believe in happily ever after?" I teased. "I saw you sneaking a peek at my Kindle last week. You like romance."

"I like the sex parts," he corrected.

I tickled him under the ribs, his one sensitive spot, and he growled and wrestled me to the couch. I kicked and screamed helplessly as he tortured all my sensitive body parts, until my cries for mercy were finally heeded.

"James?"

"Yeah?"

I gazed up into his beautiful aquamarine eyes, cupping his cheeks, and knew we were meant to be together, no matter how many obstacles got in our way. "You're my happily ever after."

His face softened, and he kissed me long and sweet for endless moments. I fell into bliss and that wonderful bubble of emotion and need that lit me up and satisfied the hole in my soul.

"You're gonna get a few orgasms for that remark."

I laughed as he picked me up and carried me into the bedroom.

I pushed all thoughts of Brian and Ava out of my mind and concentrated on the man I loved, and our happily ever after.

Chapter Twelve

JAMES

I ARRIVED EARLY AT THE Brush Institute. It had been over a week since Ava's porno show, and she seemed to have backed off. I'd planned to confront her after seeing her with Jason, but she hadn't been in for a few days, and then readily ignored me. By that time, I tried to convince myself shit like that wouldn't happen again.

I hoped to God I was right.

I set up my canvas and charcoals, chatted with one of the other students, and tried to get my head back in the game. Today was the day we showed our final sketches, and Ava would make a decision on who to pick for the expo. Only five were chosen from the whole school, and with over one hundred students taking various classes, slots were tight.