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“You’re both invited to join us. If you want to attend, that is. Of course, there’s no pressure,” she adds when I scrunch up my face, thinking I would much rather hibernate upstairs than socialize with guests.
But that stupid promise I made to myself has me opening my mouth before my brain can protest. “Sure. Thanks. We would love to come.”
Quinn places a hand around my waist and gives it a gentle squeeze.
I’m proud of myself…that wasn’t as hard as I thought.
“Is there a theme?” I ask, looking at the ostrich feather centerpieces, diamanté jeweled fans, and elegant laced candles that look out of place alongside Santa.
“Oh, it’s a masquerade ball. The theme is black and white,” Cynthia replies, looking over the railing at the mayhem below.
“Edward! Seriously, are you deafandblind?” Polly says, taking hold of a fondue fountain and slamming it onto the mahogany table.
Looking down at Little Miss Bossy Boots, I’m struck with an idea that is probably one of the worst I’ve had in a very long time.
“This is the worst idea ever!” Polly groans from the back seat of Cynthia’s red Mercedes.
My ingenious plan was to attempt to bond with Polly, and I figured what better way to do that than while shopping.
Obviously, I thought wrong.
“I have a million and one things to do today, but thanks to my mother’s bright ideas, I’m stuck babysitting you.” Polly huffs, slamming back into the leather interior.
After twenty minutes of circling the local mall, we finally find a parking spot, and Quinn zips into the space with ease.
“Ooh, there’s something so hot about a man who can handle a high-powered vehicle,” Polly purrs, running her fingertips through Quinn’s hair as she leans over from the back seat.
Before I have time to break her fingers, she quickly exits the car and slams the door shut behind her.
Quinn places a hand over mine, stilling my fingers from clawing at the upholstery. “She’s doing it to get under your skin,” he says with a chuckle as he turns off the car.
“Yeah, well, it’s working,” I scowl, hating that I get so jealous when Quinn is involved.
“Don’t let it.”
But that’s a little hard when I watch Polly through the driver’s window, intentionally leaning over to tie her laces up with her butt pointed directly at Quinn’s face.
“Do not look out that window,” I order, grinding down on my jaw as she turns over her shoulder and winks.
“That shade of green suits you.” Quinn laughs, chewing on his lip ring.
“I’m not jealous.” I pathetically scoff because I amsojealous.
“Oh, okay then,” he says, slowly turning toward the window to look at Polly.
“Don’t you dare,” I say, snagging his jaw and turning his face my way. “You’re a jerk.”
“You know what would really get to her?” He grins, inching closer to my lips.
“What?”
“This.” He closes the distance between us, painstakingly slow, before finally placing his warm lips on mine.
The kiss is meant to be innocent, but my hungry mouth has other ideas.
The moment our tongues intertwine, we both moan at the contact, and Quinn takes control, wrapping a hand around the back of my neck and drawing me impossibly close to his devilish mouth. As his barbell seeks out every corner of my mouth, a loud knocking on the window breaks us apart.
It seems we’ve both forgotten we’re out in public.
