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He bit his bottom lip. Watching his perfect teeth sink into that perfect pink flesh set off the fireworks in my chest. I prayed my bra was doing its job and hiding any embarrassing bumps beading out the front of my shirt.
“No, I’m sorry,” he started. “I thought Cora would’ve told you.”
I wasn’t sure why he was apologizing. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but it was endearing that he was so willing to take culpability for something. My father had never owned up to any of his mistakes. He’d just blamed other people, usually me, and then I’d get punished for his embarrassments.
Realizing Quinn was still standing in the hallway, waiting for me to respond, I finally opened the door wider. “It’s fine. You can come in and wait, I guess. I thought Cora was ready, but...” I paused, wondering if he’d get mad if he knew she was changing at the last second, making us late.
He merely grinned as he entered the apartment. “She had to change,” he guessed correctly as if he was used to such behavior. He turned to me, showing off that dimple again, and making my stomach do somersaults when our gazes met. “Yeah, I’ve started telling her things are half an hour earlier than they really are to give her time for her last-minute changes.”
I nodded, but my mind drifted elsewhere, because really, it didn’t seem humanly possible for a person to be so beautiful.
Heat traveled up my toes, zipping along the insides of my thighs, embarrassing me with all the places it flamed the hottest. What was worse, the cool air from the overhead vents was still making my arms prickle and the tips of my breasts harden.
How utterly mortifying.
Trying to act as if nothing earth-shattering was going on inside me, I forced a smile at his explanation, though I was relieved to learn we still had time and weren’t running late. I couldn’t stand being late for anything.
“So this happens a lot?”
His grin really was infectious as he smiled. “Every time.” He started to say something else but he finally noticed what I was wearing. And I mean, like, really noticed. His grin froze as his gaze dropped down my body, pausing at my breasts, midriff, and finally my legs.
As I glanced down to make sure my nipples weren’t poking through the T-shirt, I tugged at the hemline, hoping I wasn’t showing off any of my stomach as well. The bra was doing its job, thank goodness, and the tug seemed to alert Quinn to what he was doing.
His gaze immediately zipped up to my face and his eyes widened with guilt and apology. “Y-y-you...I mean, did you get unpacked okay?”
I wrapped my arms over my chest because I couldn’t fight the impulse a second longer. After tucking a long piece of bangs that hadn’t made it into my ponytail behind my ear, I cleared my throat. “Yeah, I’m all moved in.”
Quinn nodded and rocked back onto the heels of his shoes as if he were nervous. “Good. I was going to offer to help carry stuff in for you today, but the coach kept us late at practice this morning, doing drills. Then I had already volunteered to help set out all the hoses and buckets and stuff for the car wash. And now, well...I guess it’s too late now. Sorry, I—”
“You don’t have to apologize,” I rushed out, startled he even felt he had to...again. “I didn’t expect you to...I mean, it’s fine. Really.”
Strange. Quinn Hamilton wasn’t like anything I thought he’d be. From all the pictures I’d seen of him wrapped around Cora at all these parties, I had assumed he’d be an arrogant, full of himself, outgoing jock. So far, jock was the only thing I’d gotten right, but actually he still didn’t strut around with tight muscle shirts and net shorts, to reveal all his athletic perks. Today, he sported a pair of blue jeans and a loose gray shirt, advertising ESU.
An awkward silence bloomed between us. Quinn shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Then he gestured toward the couch and television. “Do you mind if I...?”
“Oh! Yeah, sure. Go right ahead.”
Yes, best idea ever. I’d latch onto anything to wipe away the uncomfortable tension between us. And the television was a perfect outlet. I wished I’d thought of it and offered it first.
“Great, thanks. I’ve been itching to catch up on Psych.”
I followed him into the living room area, curious. “Psych?”
He tossed an engaging grin at me over his shoulder. “It’s this hilarious detective show I found on Netflix. We don’t get Netflix at my apartment, so I can only watch it here. And Cora can’t stand it, so I sneak it in when I’m waiting for her to...” He made air quotes as he grinned at me, “change.”
I couldn’t help it. I grinned back.
He flopped down on the couch and made himself at home, flipping up the middle cushion to reveal a center console nook hiding a handful of remote controls. Taking one out, he turned on the television and pushed another series of buttons to get into the show and the very episode he wanted. When he clicked on an option that said “resume playing,” I realized how much more he was familiar with my new apartment than I was.
It must’ve been incredibly strange for him to wait in the hallway until I’d given him permission to enter. And then he’d even had to ask to sit down. My face heated; I felt like a moron. He was Cora’s boyfriend; of course he knew his way around. He’d demonstrated that last night when he’d told me where everything was.
Once again, I felt completely out of my element.
The show popped on, and the two guys on the screen instantly captured my attention as they argued about something completely inconsequential over the body of some dead guy.
Captivated, I inched further into the room and slid tentatively down into a side chair. Within seconds, I was giggling. I slapped my hand over my mouth just as Quinn grinned at me as if happy to see me enjoying his show.
Two more people arrived at the scene. They looked like detectives. “That’s Jules and Lassiter,” Quinn explained. “Shawn, the main guy there, has had a major crush on Jules since the beginning. I think they’re going to get together.” Then he sent me a rueful grin. “At least they better get together.”
