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I nodded as I sat up and gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Quinn,” he said walking backward toward the door, his eyes fixed on mine. “Night.”
“Night,” I whispered as he turned and walked out into the hall, closing the door behind him.
Sighing, I swung my legs to the side of the bed and padded across to the bathroom. As tired as I was, I could still smell smoke in my hair and on my skin. It was as though it had seeped into every pore and I couldn’t get rid of it. I needed a shower. Reaching behind the curtain that hung over the tub I flicked on the water, steam quickly filling the bathroom. I peeled off my clothes and climbed in, backing up under the hot spray. The shower in the hospital had been okay, but nothing compared to this. I felt like I could stand under the jets for hours.
After washing and conditioning my hair twice, I forced myself to turn the spray off. There were clean towels hanging on the towel rack and I grabbed one, wrapping it around my tired body. Drying off, I looked in the closet for something to wear to bed, settling on an oversized t-shirt when I couldn’t find any pajamas. Quickly, I closed the drapes and climbed under the comforter. I had no idea what time it was, but it was dark outside, and the house was quiet. I wondered whether Brody’s bedroom was next door and strained to hear any sounds through the wall but was met with silence. Closing my eyes, I snuggled into the pillow, falling asleep feeling safe for the first time in what felt like forever.
Brody
I’d had a shit night’s sleep. Visions of Quinn’s burned face had plagued my dreams, and her screams when I couldn’t find her in the fire were etched into my memory. Dragging my hand down my face, I rubbed my tired eyes. I had no idea why this girl was turning me into such a pussy. I’d dated plenty of girls and no one had ever affected me the way Quinn seemed to. She’d fit perfectly in my arms when I’d carried her upstairs last night. I’d wanted to take her to my bed and sleep with her wrapped within them. To let her know she was safe from whatever she was running from.
I sighed as I got up and crossed the room to the bathroom. I’d never even contemplated having a girl in my bed and not getting her naked, but Quinn was different. After seeing her naked in the shower at the hospital I definitely wanted to see her like that again, but for the first time in my life I wanted more, and that scared the shit out of me.
Climbing into the shower my hard cock throbbed as I remembered the water running off Quinn’s perfect body. Walking under the spray, I took my length in my hand and stroked up and down, imagining her wet body pushed up against the tiles, my mouth on her tits. I imagined my fingers thrusting in and out of her warm heat, my name falling from her lips as my fingers pushed her over the edge. Reaching out a hand to the tiled wall to steady myself, I came hard, shots of cum hitting the wall behind the taps. Breathing heavily, I let the hot water run over my head and back. I couldn’t believe I was jerking off in the shower, to thoughts of a girl I’d only just met. God, if she knew she’d think I was a dirty bastard. She was eighteen. I was twenty-four. I was too old for her. Shaking my head, I quickly finished up in the shower and threw some work clothes on before heading downstairs.
The smell of bacon invaded my senses as I entered the kitchen. “Coffee pot’s on, love,” Mom said, turning from the stove to acknowledge me. “You look tired. Didn’t you sleep well?” Her voice was full of concern and I knew there was no point lying to her.
“Not really.”
She frowned. “Want to talk about it?”
“Nah. I’m fine. It’s just been a strange couple days.” She nodded and turned back to the stove. Crossing the kitchen, I poured myself a coffee. “Is Quinn up yet?” I brought the cup to my mouth, taking a sip.
Mom turned from frying the bacon and raised her eyebrows, the corners of her mouth pulling up into a smile.
“No, not yet. Hey, you could take her some breakfast?” she suggested, her voice tinged with amusement.
“What? No!” The less time I spent in her bedroom the better.
“Oh, go on, Brody. She’s probably sitting up there wondering if she should come down or not. She’s in a strange place.”
I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Can’t you take her some up? I should get out there and help Dad.”
“I’m cooking.” She waved the spatula she was holding in my direction. “It’ll only take you five minutes.”
“Urghhh, fine! I’ll take her some bacon.” She grinned at me over her shoulder as she began plating up some breakfast for Quinn. “I know exactly what you’re up to, Mom. You and Savannah.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” She held out a tray loaded with food, her eyes avoiding mine.
“I’m sure you don’t.” Taking the tray from her, I reached my head down and brushed a kiss on her cheek. She looked suitably sheepish as she realized I’d figured out she was trying to matchmake. My mom was the one who'd told me Quinn was only eighteen. She’d soon changed her mind.
Standing outside her room, I listened for any movement to indicate she was awake. “Quinn,” I called out, tapping lightly on the door. I waited for an answer but was met with silence. Sighing, I turned the handle and slowly pushed the door open. The drapes were closed, but the sunlight streamed through them, lighting up the room. Looking over to the bed, I saw she was fast asleep, her legs tangled up in the comforter. Placing the tray on top of the dresser, I walked further into the room. I should have just left the tray and gone, but I found myself sitting on the edge of her bed. Her blonde hair was messy against the pillow and I wondered if she’d been tossing and turning in the night, struggling to sleep as much as I had. Knowing I needed to leave, I got up and made for the door.
“Brody, is that you?” she said quietly, her voice thick with sleep. As I turned around she sat up, her hands trying to tame her wild hair. I couldn’t help but smile at her. She looked beautiful.
“Hey, Quinn. Yeah, it’s me. I brought you some breakfast.” I gestured with my head to the tray of food.
“Oh, thanks. I’m starving.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and padded to the dresser. Picking up a piece of bacon, she popped it in her mouth. “This is good. Did you cook it?” she asked, reaching for another piece.
“Is that my shirt?” I looked at the Dallas Cowboys top she was wearing. It was massive on her and came midway down her toned legs.
She looked down at the shirt and tugged on it. “Is it? Sorry. I just found it in the closet last night. I’ll get it washed and back to you.” She looked embarrassed and I suddenly felt like a dick.
“Sorry, that made me sound like a jerk. Keep it,” I told her, unable to tear my eyes off her. “It looks better on you,” I muttered, and even in the darkened room I could see her face flush with heat. She smiled and carried on eating the bacon. Snapping out of my daze, I turned to leave. “Oh, and the breakfast was all Mom. I can’t cook for shit,” I said with a grin.
She laughed. “I’ll remember to thank her when I see her.”
