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I swallow and look away, only for my gaze to be riveted by his hand as it slides across his abs to the waist of his boxers.
He tugs them down a few inches and my entire body flames.
“These are sparrows,” he explains, and my eyes snap to the black and grey birds flying across his hip bones.
“Why sparrows?” I ask.
“They represent loyalty. And commitment.”
“Those are good traits.”
“They are. I’m loyal, Grey. And committed.”
I nod. “To what exactly?”
His hand leaves the waistband of his boxers and one of his fingers slowly trails a path across the back of my hand.
My nipples harden, my skin lighting up. Every inch of me is aware of him in this moment.
“You shouldn’t have to ask,” he whispers.
Our eyes meet in a clash of browns and greens and my breath stutters out of me.
“You’re young, commitments change. We change,” I say, and Quinn shakes his head, his throat bobbing.
“I don’t. I’m steadfast.”
He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. There is no way he can know what that word means.
I pull away, the electric current moving between us snuffed out, and Quinn lets out a disappointed huff.
“I should go to bed,” I mutter, and he nods, his boxers still impossibly low on his waist, his abs clenching and flexing with each breath. He stands in the shadows, but still, he’s so…
He’s so stunning. Bright. Alive.
Someone will be so lucky to have him. One day.
“Night, Grey,” he says, his voice following me to the back bedroom, and I send up a small wave before flopping down on the sleeping bag.
I stare at the ceiling, listening to the rain falling from the sky above until it lulls me to sleep.
ChapterFive
Grey
Iwake with a start. The sound of someone rustling around in the trailer, the clatter of cabinets opening and closing echoing through the small space.
Quinn. He’s here. With me. Alone.
I sit up, rubbing at my eyes, letting my vision focus before I stand up and make my way out to him.
He’s on his tiptoes, peering up into the cabinets, his shorts slung so low on his waist that I can make out his ass crack. When he sees me, his eyes widen and rake down my chest.
I run a hand over it and feel the scratch of hair there.
Shit, I should probably put a shirt on. But it’s humid and the fabric will only stick to me.
And maybe I like his eyes on me. Just a little.
