Now the grin cocked up on one side. “Because you used to, you know. You told me.”
“You need to forget about that.”
“Have you?”
“Yes,” I snapped. “That was a long time ago. Back when I was young and impressionable and believed in love.”
His brows went up. “You don’t believe in love anymore?”
“Not the romantic kind. That’s a fantasy used to sell things like lipstick and roses and diamonds.”
“Pretty jaded for twenty-seven, aren’t you?”
I resumed heading up the stairs. “I’m not jaded, Quinn. I’m just a realist.” And I’ve been burned before, trusting guys way less attractive than you.
He said nothing more, and I let myself into my flat. As soon as the door was shut behind me, I leaned back against it, exhaling and fanning my face.
He still got to me. That was so aggravating.
I mean, how was I supposed to sleep at night? Quinn Rusek was one fine piece of man candy, and I had a sweet tooth for him that wouldn’t quit.
But he’d made fun of me! Again! A nice guy would have at least pretended not to remember what I’d said. Or maybe apologized for humiliating me. Or not have brought it up at all!
What an asshole.
A hot asshole—the worst kind.
Curse you, Alex, and your generous heart.
And curse you, Quinn, for getting under my skin again. You stay away from me.
But a traitorous little part of me hoped he wouldn’t.
(Bet you can guess which part.)
Three
QUINN
Damn, she was gorgeous.
Standing there at the bottom of the steps, I couldn’t stop smiling. I heard the door to her flat slam shut and then a thump, as if she’d collapsed against it. Poor thing. I probably shouldn’t have brought up the night she told me she loved me, but she was acting so cool, brushing me off like that. If it wasn’t for those flaming red cheeks, I might have thought her disinterest was genuine and just let it go.
But I hadn’t been able to resist trying to get a rise out of her—to see if that girl I knew was still there underneath that frosty exterior, the little spitfire with the big eyes and bigger mouth, the one who believed me when I told her hanging by her knees from a tree branch would stretch her bones and make her legs longer, the one who’d gotten so mad when she found out I’d made it up that she’d stomped on my foot, told me she hated my guts, and vowed she’d never talk to me again. (She lasted two days.)
Recalling the way she’d stomped up the stairs just now, I laughed a little. Oh yeah, she’s still there.
And what about that girl who’d followed me into the bathroom and put her hands on me…was she still there? The one who had no idea how tempting she was, how badly I’d wanted to kiss her, how uncomfortable I’d been with the feelings I had for her. I’d practically lived at the Owens house growing up—Alex was my closest friend, and Jaime was his younger sister! A good friend just didn’t do that. And Mr. and Mrs. Owens had been so generous to my mother and me. For fuck’s sake, they were paying more than half my college tuition. Even at eighteen, I was old enough to recognize there was a line there that should not be crossed.
But God, I’d wanted to. I’d wanted to cross that line with every part of my body, hard and often. I’d thought about it for months, been tempted a million times. In fact, I’d almost asked Alex if he’d be OK with my asking her to the prom, but chickened out. Instead I’d asked Danica Newman, and while she blew me at the hotel party afterward, I imagined she was Jaime and came so fast I almost forgot to give a warning. But that was as close as I’d ever thought I’d get to the real thing.
So of course when she came on to me in the bathroom during the party, I’d reacted badly. I hadn’t meant to laugh, but what else was there to do? I was off guard and nervous and so fucking turned on, I couldn’t help it. It was so unfair, like God was testing me, seeing if I was really worthy of her family’s generosity. The one girl I couldn’t have was the one I wanted, and there she was with her hand on my dick, her perfect tits filling out that red bikini, and that pouty little mouth begging to be kissed (seriously, the number of times I’ve jerked off to the memory of her in that red bikini is staggering). I’d been so close to giving in.
And then she told me she loved me, and I lost it.
It was just so sweet, and her eyes were so sincere. She trusted me. She’d have done anything I wanted her to.
I couldn’t take advantage of it.
Believe me, in my fantasies, that night went down a whole different way, but I stand by my choice to be a gentleman.
Except now I was being punished for it!
OK, maybe I shouldn’t have poked at her just now, but fuck, that’s what felt natural with us—I hadn’t seen her in a while, but sometimes being with someone from your past is like going home again. No matter how long it’s been, you don’t forget the way.
I went back into my temporary digs and sat on the couch, thinking about the last ten years, and how far from home they’d taken me. Although modeling had never been my dream job, I’d jumped at the opportunity to make the kind of money the scout had promised—and he hadn’t lied.
The amount of money I made shocked me—enough to live well in L.A. and pay off all my mother’s debt, make it so she’d never have to clean houses again (although I couldn’t convince her to leave her house or her restaurant job). Enough to cover all her medical expenses after I discovered how sick she was. Enough to make the end of her life as peaceful and full as possible.