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Shut up! Why are you telling him all this? Stop letting the power of the abs compel you!

“What are you doing here?” I question, crossing my arms in front of me and getting control of myself when I finally meet his eyes again.

“I told you, I was trying to stupidly warn you about your safety.” Quinn smiles at me, casually shoving his hands into the front pockets of his black joggers.

The same ones he was wearing last night, along with the same light-blue, long-sleeved Under Armour shirt that perfectly matches his eyes. Which means he really did spend the night here for some reason, and I’m not dreaming.

Clearing my throat to try to focus again, I tighten my crossed arms and glare at him.

“Not here on the beach. Why are you here on Summersweet Island?” I remind him.

“Oh, right. You ordered me to leave.” He smirks.

Freaking smirks at me, like my order wasn’t serious!

Don’t act like that smirk isn’t making your underwear as damp as your skin is right now.

“I’m really sorry about everything last night,” Quinn says, suddenly serious, the smile falling from his face and a look of complete honesty coming over it as he takes a step toward me. “That is not at all how I wanted things to go. I’m sorry Tyler was such an asshole, I’m sorry about the money thing, I’m sorry about the stupid NDA, and I’m sorry things haven’t been easy on you, but I promise I’m going to make it up to you.”

“Is that why you stayed? To make it up to me?”

A tiny sliver of hope sparks in my chest, but I refuse to give in to it completely.

“Yes. And to possibly ask for a teeny, tiny favor.”

His smile is now big, and toothy, and nervous. He’s got his hands folded together under his chin, and that sliver of hope dies right where it was born.

“No.” With that, I turn and start walking away from Quinn, until he reaches out and grabs my arm again, tugging me to a stop.

“Do you remember what happened the last time you did that?” I mutter, staring down at his big, warm hand wrapped gently around my upper arm, liking the heavy feel of it entirely too much, until he quickly lets go, holding both his hands up in the air in surrender.

“Look, I know things have been rough, and the media has been awful to you, and I really am sorry about that. I just need your help with one little thing that won’t take long at all. Let me make everything up to you by helping you out with something too.”

“I don’t need your help with anything, thanks. You can go now.”

Turning away from him, I run right smack into Bobbie Boyens, President of the Summersweet Island Athletic Boosters, also known as the person searching for treasure with a metal detector, who I thought I successfully avoided when I ran past her a little bit ago.

“Oh, sorry about that! Good morning, Quinn!” Bobbie smiles and waves happily over my shoulder before addressing me again. “I’m so glad I saw the two of you out here jogging together.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake….

“We weren’t jogging together. I’m jogging alone.”

“Oh, right, the big secret. Ryan told me about that.” Bobbie winks dramatically, making me wonder if everyone on this island has gone mad. “Don’t worry; I won’t say a word. Anyway, Alicia told me how many tickets you bought to the steak fry, and I just wanted to personally thank both of you for your selfless contributions.”

The banana I ate before I went on my run starts to churn in my stomach as I quickly try to come up with something to put a stop to one of the many train wrecks I’ll have to clean up around the island.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Bagley won’t be able to make it to the dinner.”

“He won’t?” Bobbie asks with a loud gasp, her hands flying up to press against her chest like I just told her someone in her family died.

“I won’t?” Quinn also asks from behind me.

I subtly bring my elbow back and right into his gut, making him let out a soft grunt.

“He, uh… doesn’t like steak,” I tell her.

“Yes I do!” Quinn happily informs her.

“He has a thing,” I try again, as Quinn smartly steps up next to me, moving his stomach away from my elbow.

“Oh, you mean that one thing?” Quinn asks as Bobbie’s eyes bounce back and forth between us.

“Yes! That one thing you have to do, and why you can’t make it to the dinner,” I stress that last part, staring at him a little harder.

“Right, right, the thing….” He trails off, breaking my stare to smile at Bobbie. “I do have a thing. But I actually cancelled that thing. The other thing is still a go, but I moved the time of that thing for this thing, so now I don’t have any things!”

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