I breathed a little easier.
Right. Quinn hadn’t worn protection, but I had.
I always did.
I took off my boots and traded my lace romper for some flannel pants and a sweatshirt before going back out to the living room, where Quinn had turned on a lamp. He was completely dressed again but holding his coat and scarf, looking at some pictures I had framed on the mantle.
“When was that?” He gestured to a photo of Claire, Margot, and me in formal dresses.
I went and stood next to him, arms crossed over my chest. “Prom.”
“Cute. And that one is Alex’s college graduation?”
“Yeah, I didn’t walk in mine.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Too much fanfare, I guess? I’d earned the degree; that’s what mattered to me, not the silly hat.”
“You are truly a no-frills woman.”
“I guess so.”
He turned toward me. “Everything OK?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” I met his eyes, but I had to work very hard to keep my expression neutral. I didn’t want him to think this was anything different than what I said it would be. That he was anything more to me. That this mattered.
Because it didn’t. It couldn’t.
“I don’t know.” He knitted his brows. “You seem a little off.”
“Well, I’m not. I’m fine.” Cool as a cucumber.
“OK.” He looked at me a moment longer, trying to read me, and I willed my face to stay impassive.
“Maybe I’m tired,” I said.
“Of course. I’ll let you get some sleep.” He leaned over to kiss me, and I gave him my cheek. At the brush of his stubble on my skin, my insides swirled a little, remembering the feel of it between my legs. He left his lips on my cheek a moment, then straightened up. “Night.”
“Night,” I said, walking toward the door. At this point I didn’t trust myself to look him in the eye. I opened it and he walked out without another word.
After I closed it behind him, I stood there staring at the door, chewing on a thumbnail, hating myself for being so cold to him after such a nice night.
The knock on the door startled me.
I took a deep breath before pulling it open.
“Was it too much for you?” Quinn asked, his blue eyes serious. “What I did?”
“Which part?”
“I don’t know—any of it.” He ran a hand through his hair. It still looked perfect. “The stuff at the restaurant. The window and the kneeling and the scarf. The broken rule.”
God, Quinn. Don’t look at me like that. I’m completely unable to handle my own feelings, let alone yours.
And I had no idea how to answer his question. The truth was complicated. If I considered each thing alone—the restaurant, the living room, the broken rule—the answer was no. None of that was too much for me. I’d had fun at the restaurant, despite the hideous romantic gestures and embarrassing nicknames. Sure, he’d made me squirm, but secretly I’d enjoyed being the sole focus of his attention.
I’d enjoyed his little shame game in the living room too, loved knowing that bossing me around like that was turning him on—it turned me on, too. Had he been a little rough? Yes. But rough I could handle. Gentle was a whole different ballgame.
The broken condom rule was more troublesome, but even that I could chalk up to simply getting carried away in the moment.
But put them all together, and this felt too all-consuming, too good from every angle, too big for me.
All I’d wanted was a little man candy, and he was offering me an entire meal.
“Say something,” he implored. “I’m starting to feel bad.”
I felt myself cracking. “Don’t. Don’t feel bad.”
“I’m sorry if—”
“And don’t apologize. For God’s sake, Quinn. I had a great time tonight. I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do or wouldn’t do again.”
“Really?” He looked relieved.
“Really.” I wrinkled my nose. “Well, maybe not everything. I don’t think I ever need to be called dumpling again.”
He laughed. “I’ll stick to love bug.”
“Don’t you dare.”
We smiled at each other a moment, and even I felt reluctant to say goodnight.
“So does this mean you’ll go on another date with me? Because that’s what I want. Something more than just no-strings sex with you.”
I winced. “I don’t know, Quinn. I’m feeling a little…off kilter right now. I need to think through some things.” And you need to stop looking at me like that. Your face is totally incompatible with rational thought.
“I understand. I’ll let you get some sleep.” He looked down at the scarf in his hands, then met my eyes again. “You know, if it makes you feel any better, you’ve got me off kilter, too.”
“Jesus. Shouldn’t one of us know what the fuck we’re doing?”
“Oh, I know what I’m doing,” he said with a wolfish grin. “It just took me by surprise. Night.” He disappeared down the stairs, and I shut the door before I lost my mind completely and asked him to stay.
I didn’t fall asleep until well after two in the morning. I was agitated and restless—I couldn’t turn off my brain, and since my body was wired to it, neither could find any peace.