Quinn swallowed, so close to Noah that he could see all the finer details of his face. ‘And who has come upstairs and knocked on my door twice? When there’s a whole other door outside you have to get through first that always seems to be left unlocked?’
‘Isn’t it your responsibility to lock it?’ Noah was grinning now. Warm, friendly, so bloody sexy.
Hearing his words recited back to him, like it was poetry, made Quinn feel like he might faint. Only he might faint because here was Noah thinking he was a stalker. ‘I think you have a key.’
‘Yeah, I got one cut.’
‘Please tell me you’re joking.’
‘Depends,’ Noah said.
‘On what?’
‘On what kind of stalker you’ll be,’ Noah said.
Was he flirting? No.
Flirting with me?
‘Well, you might have to find out what kind of stalker I am, then.’
‘A fun drunk one,’ Noah said, his breath dancing over Quinn’s skin.
Quinn laughed, recalling their evening together. How long ago it seemed. ‘Did I embarrass myself?’
‘I don’t remember.’ Then he paused. ‘Did I?’
‘Oh, you told me how to find your house, enter it, and your daily routine so that I know your every waking moment.’
‘Bingo.’ Noah moved back, sipped his coffee, and Quinn never felt so jealous of coffee before.
‘Listen, this may seem like what a stalker might say, but fancy doing something?’
Did I just ask that?
‘Doing something?’ Noah asked. ‘Like what?’
Like kiss. Taste each other. Fuuuu…
‘Like, something fun.’
‘I want fun.’
Where had Quinn heard that before? Grindr?
‘What about your shop?’
‘Closed.’
Before Noah could say anything, Quinn darted around Noah and inside his shop. Daniel, leaning against the counter, covered the book with his hand.
‘Hiya, Quinn.’
‘You’ll be alright to lock up?’
‘Course I will,’ Daniel said. ‘Speaking to Noah about your shop, is it?’
‘Something like that.’
