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“Worried you’re going to wake someone up?” said Tyler.
“No,” she said, too forcefully. She was worried someone would hear her and make this worse than it needed to be.
She’d never brought anyone home to this apartment. She and Becca had hardly seen each other since the fire, and when they did, it was always at Becca’s place or the Merrick house. When Nick drove her home, she never let him get farther than the apartment landing. She didn’t want anyone to smell the pot or the alcohol. Even now, outside the door, embarrassment sent heat coursing up her neck. What if Tyler saw her mother stumbling around in a nightgown? What if the shrieking started and Quinn couldn’t get her to shut up?
She looked at Tyler and put a hand up. “Just wait here.”
snorted. “You say that like I’d care.” He held out a paper bag. “You want the other pretzel?”
Quinn hugged her hands to her stomach. She was still hungry, but she should probably be chewing on a lettuce leaf. “Nah.”
“Come on. Don’t make me throw it out for the gulls.”
“If you insist.” She took the bag and tore off a stretch of pretzel. Butter and salt and heaven.
They’d been out here on this deserted stretch of beach for fifteen minutes, and she’d been sure the beach-fire-blanket combo was nothing more than a play to get into her pants. Nick’s words about Tyler using her to get at him kept bouncing around in her head.
But Tyler hadn’t made a move toward her. Even now, he left a clear five feet of space between them, just like last night on the roof of his shopping center.
Take that, Nick.
He’d bought her pretzels as promised, then walked a few laps of the mall at her side, only asking if she wanted to go for a drive when stores began unrolling their security gates. His anger from yesterday seemed to have faded, his violence from the first night completely gone.
But fury and aggression hid there, just below the surface.
He is not nice , Quinn.
She knew that. Tyler was like an attack dog who’d failed out of doggie school. He might eat treats out of your hand and wag his tail, but if you made the wrong move, he’d bite your hand off and come back for the other one.
It was kinda terrifying.
And kinda sexy.
“What?” he said.
Quinn didn’t look away. Why bother? He’d already caught her staring. “I was thinking you’re kind of hot when you’re not being a total dickhead.”
He let out a low whistle and looked back at the sky. “Turn a guy’s head with talk like that.”
She expected him to see that as some kind of invitation, but he didn’t move.
After a moment, his voice dropped and he said, “Thanks.”
He paused. “You’re not breaking any mirrors yourself.”
But he still didn’t move.
It thrilled her and exasperated her at the same time. Like last night, when he’d dropped that line about Nick being one lucky bastard.
Either he’s not using me or he’s not interested.
It made her want to provoke him. “I thought I was enough to turn you off from sex forever.”
Now he turned his head and looked over. The fire turned his blond hair gold and bounced off his eyes. “That had more to do with Merrick than with you.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means I said that to get under his skin. You could look like a supermodel and I would have said you were a total turnoff.”
