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“Would you do it?” she asks, a hopeful look on her face.
“Of course.”
Loud shouting comes through the open window of the library, drawing our attention to the court where the game is well underway.
Nate is yelling something at one of his players. On the other hand, Quinn is standing stoically on his side of the court; his arms crossed over his chest as he watches the game unfold. He’s wearing one of those basketball jerseys that leaves his arms bare, his muscles flexing. He has nice arms, long and toned, his palms so big they can easily wrap around my waist and pull me closer. Just like his fingers that were…
“Basketball seems to be popular,” Gigi’s soft voice startles me from my thoughts.
I keep my eyes on the court, hoping she doesn’t notice the flush spreading through my cheeks. “It is. We were really lucky Quinn and Nate volunteered to keep the classes going over the summer, and the kids seem to love it.”
Gigi glances toward the court, where a group of girls is sitting on the sidelines. “Yeah, I think some of them are there just for the show.”
I turn around and give her a pointed look.
“What? Just because I’m not drooling over them doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed. I mean, they’re smokin’.”
“Gigi!” I chastise. “Don’t you think they’re a bit too old for you?”
Her brows pull together. “I was talking about Teddy and Brian.” Gigi tilts her head to the side. “Who did you think I was talking about?”
Of course she did.
“Nobody. You better go and finish that essay of yours, you hear me?”
Gigi glances at the court. “Although I guess Nate and Quinn aren’t too shabby to look at either.”
“Gigi,” I say in warning.
The girl bites the inside of her cheek. “Yes, ma’am.”
Shaking my head, I go toward the door. Seriously, these kids will be the death of me. Once I’m at the door, I look over my shoulder. “I’ll get that letter written for you by next week.”
“Thank you!” she yells after me, already typing furiously.
“You’re welcome.”
With that, I continue on my way down the hall. Every couple of hours or so, I make rounds around the center to ensure everything is in order and kids aren’t doing anything they’re not supposed to. Most of them are good kids, but at the end of the day, they’re just kids. Plus, we have a lot of teenagers. I caught some of them more than once sneaking around and hooking up.
Once that’s done, I’m about to head out front when I hear shouting coming from the backyard. I stop, debating for a split second on what to do.
“Seriously, Vanessa?” I mutter to myself, going toward the open door. “It’s just Quinn.”
But it was easier said than done. I don’t know why I’m so nervous anyway. We’ve barely seen each other since that day he brought me brownies, and we had sex at my place. And on those few occasions, our paths did cross either at home or here; he would always act like he did before we hooked up.
And what a hookup it was. My stomach still quakes when I think about it. Think about Quinn. The way he barely held on when I went down on him, and then his enthusiasm when he picked me up and took me to my room, where he proceeded to return the favor before we finally had sex.
Hot, sweaty, mind-blowing sex.
My steps falter when I catch sight of him through the doorway. Quinn grabs his shirt at the back of his neck and pulls it over his head. The material peels off, leaving all that glorious dark skin visible.
Holy moly.
By the way my breath hitches, you’d think this is the first time I laid my eyes on him, but damn, that man is gorgeous. I’m half tempted to pull him out of here and lick that sweat…
“Miss Dawson!”
I turn toward the sound of the voice just in time to see an orange ball flying toward me.
