But I did feel it. Something was about to go wrong.
I let out an annoyed breath and wondered if I'd ever be able to kick back and relax for longer than a day. I was always scurrying back to the rat race, or anticipating doom and gloom. Still, I was usually right.
James had changed. He held a secret, or a thought he didn't want to share with me. I felt it the most during sex. His usual ferocity in the bedroom, that gorgeous, rough, raw quality that reminded me of a sleek animal in the wild, was tamed. It was almost as if he was afraid to let go with me, no matter how hard I urged him to. His lovemaking was controlled and tender, but was missing an element that had burned between us from the moment we met.
Was he getting bored of me?
I shifted in the booth uneasily and sucked at my Coke, having adeptly maneuvered out of drinking beer tonight. When I tried to bring it up before, he'd told me he always wanted me. His words still rang true. His gaze still seethed with a fiery lust I adored. But when he touched me, he was careful, refusing to take me in the ways I dreamed of.
"Quinn? Are you okay?"
I looked up. Brian was staring at me with a hard intensity that made me a bit uncomfortable. I hoped he wasn't getting the wrong impression. I loathed the idea of having an intimate talk to remind him I was with James and was happy, but how awkward would that be if those weren't his intentions?
I forced a smile. "Sure, my mind was wandering."
"How's James?"
My smile deliberately widened. "Great. We're great. Both of us are looking forward to getting out of town for a few days."
He nodded thoughtfully. "Key West, right? Sounds fun." Brian paused. "Did he tell you we ran into each other earlier in the week?"
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
Brian shrugged. "He came looking for you, and we chatted a bit in my office."
Jessica overheard our conversation and cut in. "James is one hunk of a specimen," she said teasingly, giving me a naughty wink. "Quinn definitely scored in that department."
My cheeks heated, but I knew Jessica enjoyed a good banter. "Hands off, girlfriend."
Jessica grinned and put her hands up. "Fine, fine. Brian, you're gonna have to hook me up with one of your friends, dude. Someone who looks like James. Golden hair, blue eyes, slamming body. I'll close my eyes and pretend." She batted her lashes, and I laughed.
"I gotta go. See you guys later." Brian slid out of the booth, ignoring everyone's protests, peeled off some cash, and left it on the table. "You got one more round, then I want you guys home."
He left without turning back, and once again, I felt as if I was missing a huge piece of the puzzle. Why hadn't James told me about their conversation? I knew James got jealous easy, but it was weird how he didn't even mention the exchange.
Maybe I'd try to talk to him tonight and find out what was going on. I glanced at my watch, then pulled out my phone. I hadn't heard the text come in.
Babe, gonna be at the studio late. Breakfast in bed tomorrow?
I tapped out my response. Pancakes and bacon?
A few seconds later, a smiley face popped up. Definitely. Love you.
Love you, too.
I finished my Coke, pondering our relationship. We'd come so far since we met in Key West. From a week of sun, sand, and sex, into the bustling city of Chicago, we'd both grown up and grown even closer. I loved how he was strong enough to say "Fuck you" to his parent's money and try things on his own. I'd only fallen deeper in love with him this past year, knowing in an odd way, we'd been waiting for the other in order to feel whole.
Suddenly, I just needed to see him. Maybe I'd surprise him at the studio. It had been a long time since I was able to drop by and see his work. There was something so intimate about watching him sketch, and I craved to be in his presence. We'd also have a safe place to talk. James liked to bury himself in his art when he was working out issues. Maybe it was the best place to really dig deep.
I grabbed my jacket and purse, said goodbye to my friends, and headed out.
Chapter Fifteen
JAMES
I HAD NO CLUE the day would turn into the biggest clusterfuck of my life.
I should've known by the crappy start. After being with Quinn, I felt as if I could handle anything thrown my way, so I started out strong. I'd already accepted I didn't get into the expo, but then had to deal with a crappy shift at Joe's, where I spilled an expensive cup of mocha from burning my damn hand, and was stalked by a bunch of giggly teens who lingered far too long at the tables, watching me.
Ugh.
I spent the rest of the day researching other art schools and hitting the pavement at various stores and museums, asking for applications while well-dressed receptionists wrinkled their noses at me, asking me first what my degree was in.
I didn't care. In fact, I began sifting through the idea of doing something completely different. I'd take extra shifts at Joe's, maybe add another odd job for the money, and build my own collection. Then I'd use the Internet to market it. I'd noticed some craft stores where artists gave up a percentage of commission to sell. Hell, I'd take the time to build my contacts, and create my own shit. I didn't need Ava or the Brush Institute to validate my talent, and if I tapped into my own drive, I'd build something on my own.
I headed to the studio, feeling stronger about my direction, and when I got there a big crowd had formed around a posted piece of paper in the hallway.
"What's going on?" I asked a pretty blonde, who was leaning against one of the art cases.
"The artists for the expo were picked."
"Oh." I didn't even bother, not wanting to depress myself any further. I headed toward my workroom to set up for class, already prepping for my confrontation with Ava. I wouldn't let her win. She'd probably made all that shit up just to cover her ass for not picking me for the expo. I was over it.
I was laying out my charcoal pencils when Tony, a guy from my class, came rushing in. "Dude! Did you see? I can't believe it."
"See what?"
He stood there, gaping. "The expo, man. Your name is listed. You made it!"
I blinked. Wondered if I'd heard right. Then, shaking my head, I raced back down the hallway and pushed my way into the crowd so I could read the list.
#4 - James Hunt.
What the fuck? I stood in shock while the students clapped me on the shoulder, offering their congratulations. Impossible. She'd picked me even after our episode.
But why?
I should have been over the fucking moon, but my gut clenched with worry. Something was off. I needed to talk to her, make sure she wasn't playing any mind games with me. My head spun, but already, the possibility had been extended, and now I wanted it so badly I couldn't think of having it yanked away from me. Would she blackmail me? No, she should have known I'd never agree to do anything that would hurt my relationship with Quinn, even for the expo. I tried to calm my beating heart, act cool, and wait for Ava to show up and make some sense of it.
She never did.
Instead, another instructor came into class, explaining he'd be taking over for the day. He congratulated the students who'd made the list, and everyone clapped for me since I was the only one from Ava's class to get in.
Shit. I wouldn't get my answers yet.
My head wasn't in the right place, but I tried to make the best of it, using the class time to try to clear my mind by losing myself in work.
I checked my watch and decided to get something to eat. I kept thinking of Brian's words, warning me I'd never be good for Quinn. I turned over Ava's declaration that Quinn wasn't a good fit. It seemed no matter who I spoke with, everyone was against us. Normally, it would make me want to fight harder, but the doubt had been seeded, and I was afraid it was starting to sprout.
Would she be better off without me? Was I being a selfish prick by not letting her go?