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I wince. I deserved that, but I hate that I made her cry. Thelma isn’t made for crying. She’s made for laughing and smiling and working way too fucking hard. Grimacing, I shove a hand through my hair.
“Look, I’m sorry I tried to fight you. She didn’t tell me you were her bodyguard.”
Quinn’s lips twitch, his arms still crossed. “I’m pretty sure she wanted you to think I was something else.”
Trey was fucking right. Fuck me. I wonder what she would have said if I hadn’t told her I wanted to cool things down before she had a chance to introduce Quinn. I could have saved myself a lot of time and heartache if I had kept my stupid mouth shut,
“Yeah. She wanted to make me jealous.”
One of Quinn’s eyebrows slowly raises. “Did it work?”
“Fuck yeah.”
He tips his head to the side, frowning. “Why did she want to make you jealous?”
“I fucked up and told her I didn’t want to date her.”
“Yeah, that sounds like a fuck up. No wonder she cried.”
I wince again. He doesn’t need to twist the damn knife. “Can I see her?”
His arms drop to his sides, his form blocking the entire doorway as he slowly shakes his head.
“You haven’t been cleared.”
What the hell? “I’m not going to hurt her.”
Quinn looks skeptical, glancing over my shoulder, eyeing Trey’s truck before he sighs, stepping back.
“You did drive all the way up here. But I’m doing this under protest. If she doesn’t want to see you, I will throw your ass out, and if you try to fight me on it, I will shoot you.”
The look in his eyes tells me he isn’t joking around. Shit. I’m glad that a crazy motherfucker like this is looking out for Thelma. He’s not going to let anyone get to her.
I step past him into the airy, double-ceilinged space. It’s all gray marble tiles and white walls. The state-of-the-art kitchen is in front of me, with a comfortable-looking lounge area to one side, separated by an arty feature staircase that curves around as it leads to a mezzanine level.
“Who is it, Grady?” Thelma’s shaky voice rings out from a hallway off the kitchen. He closes the door, stepping around me.
“Your boxing trainer.”
Her head appears from the archway, and her shoulders relax. I drink in the sight of her. She’s dressed in jeans and a sweater, her long hair pulled back into a ponytail, brushing down her back.
She’s not wearing any makeup and looks even more gorgeous than I remember. I have no idea how that’s possible, but my heart swells at the sight of her, and it feels like I’ve drawn the first proper breath into my lungs in two weeks.
Her look of relief disappears, her plump lips thinning and a frown marring her smooth brow. Shit. She looks mad. I need to make my case before Quinn manhandles me out of here.
“What are you doing here?”
“Holly gave me the address. I need to speak with you.”
Quinn is hovering, but he hasn’t moved to grab me. Thelma’s face crumples, and her shoulders slump. She looks at my feet, her voice small.
“There’s nothing left to say.”
Swallowing roughly, I shake my head. “Yeah, there is.”
“I’m going to do a perimeter check.” The door opens and shuts as Quinn leaves. That’s better than I had hoped. I didn’t get thrown out, and he’s giving us some privacy.
Thelma is still staring at my feet, looking miserable. My heart clenches at the sight. Crossing to her, I do what I have wanted to ever since I stood in her bedroom, fucking everything up; I hug her tightly to my chest, burying my face in her hair.
