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Until she left me behind and returned to her life in Chicago.
I took another sip and leaned against the granite island. She'd go back to her real life and forget about me. Maybe share a few stories with her friends, laugh about the great time she had, and concentrate on finding a guy more like herself. Someone with morals, and a real job, and a family. Not a whiny, isolated rich kid who did nothing with his life.
She'd find someone she deserved.
Misery festered like a blister. What did I want out of my life? I hated banking, the law, and medicine. I hated the crap involved in the upper crust society circles I ran with, because I'd never known anything else. Sure, I travelled, but even then I felt as if I was playing at something, trying to show my parents SEE ME! LOVE ME! They never did, and I needed to let it go. But if I was going to try and be more, I had to start somewhere.
My fingers itched for a paintbrush or charcoal pencil. Whenever my thoughts skidded out of control, I found my peace in elegant lines, brilliant color, sharp edges. The play of light fascinated me, allowing me to study it for hours and try to reflect it in my work. It was one of the only times I reached peace, allowing another self to surface, one I actually felt proud of.
But what could I do with it? I'd never be good enough for art school. I had no formal training, and all the years of hiding my work from my dad's skeptical opinion and my friends' humoring of my hobby had taken its toll.
I was a pussy. Afraid to go for anything that may be worthwhile. Afraid of...everything.
"Morning."
I jerked and some coffee sloshed over the rim. She stood in the archway, wearing one of my shirts that hung just past her knees. Bare legs and feet, hair messed and tangled, head ducked a bit in a gesture of shyness, my throat closed up and I could only stare. She was so fucking sweet and beautiful. My dick jumped to attention and I fought the urge to drag her onto the table and shove myself between her legs. The other part wanted to pick her up, kiss her tenderly, and protect her forever. I ended up staying put so I didn't freak her out.
"Did I wake you up? I wanted you to sleep in today."
She shook her head and shifted her weight. Those pink toenails jumped out at me. She had such a naughty, dark side mixed with the good girl image I was crazy about. How had the guys ever pegged her a snob or cold fish? "No. I looked for you and you weren't there. And I smelled coffee."
I smiled. "I'll get you a cup. Take a seat." I motioned to the stool and she slid into the high red leather, hooking her feet over the rung. "Milk? Sugar?"
"Just milk, please."
I fixed her coffee and watched her drink it. Her face softened into pleasure, almost the same expression when she began to relax under my touch. I gripped the counter and wondered how every move she made both fascinated me and turned me on. "Good?"
"Yes. I like it strong."
We drank our coffee in companionable silence. I waited for questions about last night, or a long conversation regarding emotions, expectations, or fears, but she never said a word. "Are you hungry?"
She scrunched up her nose. "Can you cook?"
I laughed. "A little. I have a housekeeper for this place 'cause I hate cleaning, but I don't mind fooling around in the kitchen. How about an omelet?"
"Sounds good. Thanks."
I began preparing, grabbing some ham, cheese, milk, and eggs. I couldn't remember the last time I cooked for a woman staying over. It was intimate, and I liked serving her. "Are your friends good with us spending the day together again?"
"Yeah, I'll check in with them later to make sure they're okay, but we kind of planned to be separate for this trip."
"How come? Usually girls flock together and stay that way."
Uneasiness flickered over her face. I paused in the act of mixing the ingredients and waited for her answer. "Umm, well, Mackenzie proclaimed we all needed to hook up this week, so we weren't allowed to see each other."
I arched my brow. I was half annoyed at her plan to find some guy to sleep with, but hadn't I done the same exact thing? I tried not to laugh as she shoved her face in her mug in an attempt to hide. This was too much fun to pass up. "So I was just part of this master plan to be used?" I asked.
"N-No! I mean, not really, I didn't plan on sleeping with you. I didn't like you!"
"You didn't even like me? Hell, now I really feel used. You just wanted my body."
"No! Crap, you're twisting my words. Besides, you came after me, remember?"
"Forget it. Let me just take off my clothes so you can fuck me. I never thought I could feel so cheap."
"James! I--" She broke off, catching the huge grin threatening to split my face. She gasped and pointed. "You're teasing me! You suck!"
I laughed in delight at the red spots on her cheeks. "Baby, let's just say you can use me anytime you want," I drawled. "In any way, even."
She glowered, those plump lips pursed in a cute pout. "I can't believe I fell for that," she grumbled. "I was afraid to hurt your feelings."
"Using a guy for his body isn't a problem, Quinn," I told her, dropping the mixture into a hot pan.
"I'm not," she said softly. "Are you?"
I spun around. Her serious dark eyes stared back. The question exploded around me, and I realized we'd reached a turning point. Had she heard my plea last night before she fell asleep? Did she know how much she meant to me even after this short period of time? I watched her carefully, wondering what she wanted from me. "Am I what?"
She swallowed and lifted her chin in that movement of pure bravery that almost broke my heart. "Using me for my body? Or am I more?"
The sizzle in the pan drifted to my ears, but I stood still, frozen to the spot. What type of answer did she want? The truth? That I was falling in love with my spring break fling and she was going to leave me without another thought? Or was this an opportunity to take a leap and find what I needed to know? If she needed me as much as I did her?
My silence must have been too long, because she forced a laugh and shook her head. "Forget it, I'm so lame. Let's just enjoy what we have and not analyze it. Wow, that smells good."
It would be easy to accept her fake words. Move on without dissecting some scary-ass feelings that could end up breaking both of our hearts. But I couldn't leave her hanging. I wasn't that much of an asshole--not when it came to Quinn.
"You are."
"What?"
I leaned over and pinned her with my gaze. Showing her everything I was feeling and fighting in that brief moment. "I wanted it to be just sex. It would be easier. But you're more, Quinn, much more. Do you understand?"
She quivered, nodding her head. I wanted to go to her, but it was too much, and I had already sacrificed more than I thought I could this morning.
Then she smiled. A beautiful, giving, joyous smile that splintered my reality and left it broken behind me. "I understand."
My heart hurt, so I turned back to the eggs for something to do. I grabbed a plate, slid the omelet on, and served her at the counter. "Eat up. You'll need your energy."
She was still smiling when she took the first bite.
The blare of my phone cut through the air halfway through our breakfast. I got up and checked the screen. Adam. I'd already texted him back to cancel the party, and his continuous texts were getting more and more crazed. Better take it or the guy may show up at my door. "Be right back, I gotta take this," I said.
"Okay."
I walked into the living room and hit the button. "What's up?"
My friend's voice was high-pitched. "What the hell are you doing, man? Are you fucking crazy? We had these parties planned for months--hell, it's a tradition in Key West. You can't cancel on me. I got a ton of people freaking out."
My temper reared, but I kept calm. "Adam, if you want to have a party, you host it. I'm done. I got shit I need to do this week, and I'm not up for hosting more of Girls Gone Wild at my house."
