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They both got up without a word and their faces shut down. I felt like even more of an asshole. I wasn't used to having so many people wanting to spend time with me, and I feared I was failing miserably at this friendship gig. I could always make out with Tyson and he'd immediately forgive me for whatever sins I'd committed.
Making out with Trenton and Simon was not an option open to me, so I'd have to find a different way to make it up to them. Too bad they weren't into material bullshit, the fat bank accounts Marcus and then Rain made sure I had got little to no use and I could easily afford to spend money on the brothers.
Simon placed the remote on the nightstand before following his brother out the door. His face might have been blank, but there was something close to hurt blazing in the depths of his silver eyes. I flinched at the sight and automatically took a step back as if the more space between us the less amount of pain I'd be able to feel, the less damage he could impart simply by looking at me with those quicksilver eyes of his.
The door clicked shut quietly behind him and I almost wished he would have slammed it.
I blinked away the sudden onslaught of tears that hit my eyes. I would not cry! Why did everyone around me make me want to cry lately? Was it them or me?
Fingers wrapped around my hand, and I looked down in surprise to see Quinton prying my fist apart. I'd dug my nails into my flesh again, something I knew he hated. I tried to pull my hand away from Quinton's, but he refused to let me go.
"Knock that shit off," he growled at me.
Honestly, I would if I could, but it wasn’t something I even thought about until it was already happening. It was second nature to me at this point, and I knew I'd been doing better with it and had been healthier, but things had been getting a little stressful as of late and I'd found myself slipping back into my old ways. My safety net, if you will.
"Shouldn't you be getting dressed so you can feed me?" I asked snidely. Inside my brain, the sign was on and flashing bright red in warning:Retreat! Deflect!I could do that, easily.
I placed my hand over my belly and blinked slowly at him, innocently. "Quinton, I'm hungry. If you plan on cooking then you should hurry up before I decide I can't wait and just heat something up in the microwave." I paused and pretended to think about it. "I think there might be some pizza roles in there or a corn dog I can eat."
Quinton gave me a look so full of disgust that I couldn’t keep my lips from twitching. He was so predictable at times.
"For fuck's sake, Ariel," he snapped at me. "You're not eating that garbage. You better wait until I get back. And I'm going to have to talk to Dash about the shit he lets you eat here. Or you can walk your ass downstairs from here on out and sit your ass on a stool in the kitchen every night while I cook for you."
Shit.
That was not what I wanted. I'd inadvertently screwed myself here.
He leaned in and kissed me sweetly on the corner of my mouth. "Don't think I don't know what you just did or that you got away with it because that shit isn't happening. We're going to have a conversation about this, just not right this second. Now, get dressed and I'll be back in less than ten minutes."
He slapped me on the ass, making me jump, and sauntered out of my bedroom in nothing but one of my yellow bath towels slung low around his hips. He, of course, didn’t bother with shutting the door behind him.
I stood there stupidly, staring at the empty doorway, and I couldn’t help but think...well, shit.
Chapter Twelve
It’ll Be Worth It
Igot dressed in a hurry and scooped up both my pile of discarded, dirty clothes along with Quinton's. I walked them into my closet and dumped them into my hamper in there. I rushed back to the bathroom and quickly ran a hairbrush through my ash blonde hair. I brushed my teeth, something I had been dying to do until I'd been confronted with the firing squad, and then what with the sex and all I'd completely forgotten about my need for clean teeth. Though, Quinton hadn't seemed to mind when he'd stuck his tongue in my mouth.
I put on deodorant, skipped makeup altogether, and didn't even consider putting on perfume. In order to keep my wet hair off my face, I put on a thick, white headband and called it good enough.
I didn't know if that was the extent to what Quinton had referred to as girlie shit, but this was all I had in me to do today. Quinton loved me to the point of unhealthy obsession, I could have skipped the deodorant and he wouldn't have given a crap.
I thought about what we needed to talk about and almost locked myself in the bathroom again, for all the good I knew it would do me.
He was already moving around in the kitchen by the time I made my way there. I think it took him less time than it had me because he'd put on less clothes than I had. He stood in front of the stove with his back to me in a pair of extremely faded blue jeans that were frayed at the bottom hems, and a worn through hole in the right back pocket at his ass. There were probably more worn through holes in the front, and not because he'd bought them like that, but because he'd worn them for so many years and they'd been washed so many times it showed. Like, wear and tear.
And he wore nothing else. Well, maybe he had boxers on under those jeans, but I couldn't tell.
Good lord. He couldn't cook in Dash's and my kitchen dressed like that. He was crazy!
"Uh, Quinton," I muttered as I stepped into the kitchen. "I thought you went to go get dressed. Where are the rest of your clothes?"
He turned his head to the side, grinning at me. "I'm not going to put on more clothes, Ariel. Why would I deprive you of the gift of being able to check me out while I'm cooking and then while we're eating? I'm a dick, but I'm never outright mean to you, so no, I'm not gonna put a shirt on. Get over it."
My mouth dropped open and I gaped at him. I could not believe he'd just said that to me.
"Someone is clearly full of himself and thinks he's hot stuff," I snapped at him in outrage, because he was incredibly outrageous.
