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He stands up and takes hold of my chin. "What's keeping you from me?"
When I don't answer, his hand moves from my chin down to my throat, stopping at the base of my neck. Biting his lower lip, he watches as my throat tightens, and I swallow under his touch.
"You're breaking our agreement," I whisper. "What happens in Nashville, stays in-"
"You made that agreement with yourself, Quinn. Not with me," he interrupts.
"What is it you want from me?" I ask softly.
His grip on my throat gently tightens as our eyes lock. "Everything," he murmurs before letting go.
He leaves the room without saying anything else. I touch my throat, puzzled by how that gesture set off a hot craving between my legs.
I try to take my mind off him and get started on checking some emails.
Greig never returns, and I can't help but wonder if Weston has something to do with that.
I dive into a new project that I've been assigned, taking only a short lunch break before continuing to work when I get back. It's not until I hear a knock on the door that I realize what time it is.
"Quinn? What are you still doing here, girl? It's almost six in the evening," Marissa says.
I rub my eyes, realizing I've been glued to my desk and in focus mode all day. "Wow, I've been going pretty hard today," I respond.
She smiles. "Let's go grab some dinner."
I shake my head, thinking I could use a hot shower and a night in. "I don't know if I'm up for it," I shrug.
She gestures for me to come. "Don't be silly, Quinn. You only have a microwave in that hotel, and I'm pretty sure you're sick of TV dinners and cups of noodles."
I chuckle; she's not wrong. "Fine, let's go," I tell her. I grab my purse and head toward my car.
The drive is pretty short, and I arrive in no time to meet Marissa. We're seated at a table and handed menus.
I scan the menu, my eyes darting from one dish to another. I think about how I could go for a burger or chicken wings.
"What are you thinking of ordering?" Marissa asks.
I glance up from the menu as I answer her, but something else catches my eye. It's Weston sitting at a table with a woman with long blonde hair. I feel my blood boil. Is he on a date with someone else?
Marissa's brows knit together as she follows my gaze. "That's Abigail," she says. "She's his ex-girlfriend."
10
WESTON
"So, how's work going, bro?" Caleb asks, leaning forward.
I tilt back my beer bottle taking a long drink. "It's been rough, honestly."
I've spilled some details about Quinn, especially the day we got back from our trip. I needed to vent. The night we had together was mind-blowing, but then she hit me with that request as if one night would be enough. I didn't want to pressure her, so I agreed, trying to convince myself that one night was enough too. But it's not. I'm hooked on her, and there's no denying it.
Caleb chuckles. "You're still hung up on Quinn?"
I let out a low whistle. "Hung up doesn't even begin to cover it. Man, I nearly lost my shit when I saw Greig in her office, just the two of them."
His eyebrows shoot up. "Seriously? What the hell was he doing there?"
I can't help but scoff. "He's got the nerve to say he wants his old job back once she's gone."
