She rolled her eyes. “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
On purpose. “Back to the topic at hand…”
“I design websites and graphics.” She shrugged. “It’s not exactly my great passion, but it pays the bills and I can do it from Devil’s Falls, so it meets my needs.”
She was a study in contradictions. He’d never met a crazier woman when it came to some of her neuroses, but she was obviously passionate both in bed and when it came to that damn game of hers. Everything about her was extreme—either she hated or she loved, but she never toed the line. Except, apparently, when it came to her job. He smiled at the waitress when she delivered water to their table and took their order, and then turned his attention back to Aubry. “So what would you do if you were going to follow your great passion?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Peaches, you’ve delivered insults harsh enough to strip flesh from bone, but you’ve never lied to me—until now.” He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “Tell me. I promise not to laugh at you.”
“No, you don’t.” She took a sip of her water. “And, anyways, that’s not what I’m afraid of—not that I’m afraid of anything about this conversation, exactly. It’s just that some things aren’t talked about.”
He blinked. “I don’t know where you get some of your ideas.”
“Oh, God, fine.” She hunched down in her seat. “I want to design video games.”
“Cool.”
Aubry fiddled with her silverware. “In theory, sure. But the reality isn’t cool at all. Even if I had the balls to submit my game to a company for consideration, the chances of it getting picked up are less than one percent, and if I went the indie route, there’s a whole host of other hurdles I’d have to get over. That’s not even bringing up what it’s like being a woman in the gaming industry—”
“Aubry.”
She sat back and finally looked at him. “What?”
He mentally revisited everything she’d just said. He wasn’t sure she’d taken a breath the entire time. “You have a game done?”
“It’s not done-done. It’s playable and there are a few levels put together, but that’s it.”
“That’s amazing.” He didn’t have a creative bone in his body, and while he could enjoy a video game here and there, he’d never really put much thought into what it took to actually create one. “You have to send it in.”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “Did you miss everything I just said?”
“I got it loud and clear. But let me ask you something—what’s the worst they could do?”
“Death threats come to mind.”
Quinn took a drink of his water, considering how to approach this. “But what if they said yes?”
“Back to the less than zero chance that they would.”
“There’s no such thing as less than zero.”
“Sure there is—”
“In algebra. Not in reality.” Hell, the woman was like a dog with a bone. He held up his hands as the waitress deposited chips and salsa onto the table. “I’m not saying you have to do it right now. I’m just saying it’d be a damn shame if you took away even the slightest chance of seeing your game sold in stores because you were scared of a little rejection.”
She picked up her fork and poked at her salad. “You don’t understand.”
“Enlighten me.”
She rolled a grape tomato around her plate. “You and Jules, and even Adam, walk around like you own the entire world. Not in a bad way, you’re just so crazy confident, it would never occur to you to quit something just because someone told you it was impossible. I’m pretty sure Jules would see that as a personal challenge. I’m not like that.”
“You’re a little bit of a basket case, I’ll grant you.” He waited for her half-hearted smile. “But, hell, I didn’t think you cared what anyone thought.”
“I don’t. It’s not that. It’s…” She finally stopped playing with her food and speared the tomato. “I’m already half convinced the game is shit. I don’t need someone else to tell me so and confirm it.”
If that wasn’t the most depressing outlook he could think of, he didn’t know what was. Quinn opened his mouth to argue further, but decided there had to be a better way to come at the subject. He’d think about it later and bring it up when she didn’t have all her walls firmly in place.
Like when he was inside her.
He grinned at the thought, which had her brows slanting down. She pointed her fork at him. “I am highly suspicious of that look on your face right now.”
“As well you should be.” He dipped a chip into the salsa and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly, enjoying the way she squirmed. The best part of this entire conversation was the fact that she hadn’t once noticed the restaurant fill up around them. He had no doubt the second she stopped focusing on him there’d be a potential panic attack on the horizon, and he wasn’t about to let her go through that again if there was any other option.