Chapter 18
I’ve never been nervous to show a woman my place before.
Excited? Yeah, of course. Whenever I’ve brought one home in the past, it was usually to fuck.
We’d both be too busy with other things to pay much attention to our surroundings, which meant there was no need for tours or small talk.
The person I was with knew the deal, and I made sure I kept things on track, even on the off chance they started getting ideas they weren’t supposed to.
Tonight—or this morning, I guess—things are different.
This isn’t some random hookup I’m guiding inside, and there’s no chance of us so much as sharing a room, let alone having sex.
Quinn’s eyes inspect the condo in a way that has my heart thumping with unfamiliar anxiety.
I’m not a total slob, but from what I saw of her apartment earlier, she might not agree.
She had more organizational bins and bookcases neatly stacked than I’ve ever seen outside of a department store.
There aren’t boxers thrown over the back of my sectional or packets of condoms left strewn about on the coffee table, yet I feel like she’s judging me.
It’s still up in the air whether it’s in a good way.
The leather couch is fairly new, as is the matching chair in the corner of the room, surrounded by the floor-to-ceiling windows I had tinted with one-way film a week after moving in.
You can see the ocean from wherever you stand, so I kept the furniture minimal, not wanting to overshadow the view.
Nobody pays what I did for a place here, in this exact corner on this exact floor, if they don’t want to wake up every day to the ocean.
Or maybe they do and I’m a total fucking loser.
I adjust the strap of her bag on my shoulder and wander into the kitchen to grab two bottles of water from the fridge.
They’re chilled to perfection, and I swipe my thumb along the dew before returning to Quinn’s side.
She’s deeper into the room now, drawn to the windows the way I was the first time I was here.
“You never told me if you like the beach,” I say.
“I prefer the water to the sand. Similar to Wes, I guess.”
I battle a smirk. “You don’t like sand in your ass?”
“You do?” She flashes me a curious glance over her shoulder. “Actually, forget I asked that. You probably roll around in it like a dog.”
“That depends, actually.”
“On?”
“If that’s a turnoff for you.”
Her laugh floats through my living room as she looks back out the window. “I’ve never thought about it.”
“With the risk of disappointing you, I actually don’t roll around in it.
But I do love a good sandcastle. Me and a few of the guys built a massive one last year.
And I’m talking it had levels, Quinny. Aubs and Brielle spent a good chunk of time collecting shells for us and detailed the fuck out of it. ”
She already knows Brielle from all of the times she’s hidden herself in Blank Page to people-watch, or stalk, as Wes calls it. Aubrey, though, I’m not sure if she’s ever met. I think she’d like her. They’ve both got a killer glare and a habit of knocking a cocky guy off balance.
“Did it have a moat?”
I guffaw. “Did it have a moat? Who do you think I am? That’s the most important part.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it, I guess.”
“Nah, I’ve got pictures.”
Before she can answer, I’ve got my phone out, scrolling through my photos.
Her gaze burns my knuckles as I search for July of last year.
There are far too many pictures of the guys in the clubhouse and screenshots from the group chat all the guys are in that by the time I find what I’m looking for, it feels like hours have passed.
Pulling up the sandcastle pic, I lift my eyes to capture her reaction.
I’m not expecting to see her cheeks a deep red or her stare slightly glassy.
My stomach crawls in on itself as I begin to worry I’ve kept a nude or something and unknowingly shown it to her on my search, but I don’t keep that shit on my phone.
I know that. Regardless of how many I’ve been sent, I’d never keep one somewhere anyone could access it.
Confusion lingers in my voice. “What?”
Quinn blinks, her eyes focusing a bit. It’s not until I watch her lick her lips and peer up at me that I realize what that look was. My dick starts to thicken in my jeans as I register the change in the air. The soft caress of arousal that’s draped over us like a cocoon, warm and inviting.
The picture isn’t solely of the sandcastle.
It wasn’t intentional on my part to choose this exact shot, but I can’t say that I’m complaining.
I’m squatting beside the right side of it, wearing only a pair of mid-thigh, hot pink swim trunks that I remember nearly cutting off my circulation while I held that position, with dark-tinted Ray-Bans perched on my nose and a baseball hat on backward.
My hair was a bit longer then and curled wildly beneath the cap as it dried from my dip in the ocean.
I know I look good. I’d narrowly avoided a group of older women who were tanning a few feet away from our group and had giggled so loudly while we were working on our sandcastle that Aubrey actually heaved our giant umbrella from the sand and planted it directly in their view, blocking us off.
No reaction from anyone has ever had such an impact on me as this right here.
Quinn’s pupils are still wide, swallowing up that soft blue-grey I can’t get enough of.
I’m drawn to her in a way that I can’t begin to understand.
All I know is that I’ve felt this pull from the first day I entered Blank Page, and it hasn’t disappeared since.
Is she finally feeling it, too?
Because if this photo is enough to spark this intense of a reaction from her, then maybe I’ve got a better chance than I thought.
“It’s a . . . nice castle,” she mumbles.
Afraid she’ll get spooked and run right out the door, I keep my movements slow as I lean closer, just enough that I can inhale her perfume. Even after one hell of a long night, she still smells so damn good. Like spice and fruit and woman.
I drop my voice, keeping it soft. “Yeah? You like it?”
“Very much.”
“What’s your favourite part?” I’m teasing her now, but I don’t know if she realizes it.
Her mind’s still running, working too hard.
I lift my hand and tuck a chunk of auburn hair behind her ear, letting my knuckle run along the back of it.
Her skin is so warm beneath my touch, and now that I’ve felt it, I don’t want to stop.
It’s intoxicating, the way she makes me feel.
I’m so desperate for a crumb that the moment she drops one for me, I’m licking it up and opening my mouth to beg for another one.
It should be terrifying. Maybe it is. Hidden somewhere deep beneath intrigue and desire, I should fear her and the tantalizing power she holds over me.
Yet I know she doesn’t want it, and that settles me.
Despite Kellan’s worries, I know she isn’t playing me.
This isn’t some game she’s invented because if it were, she’d have won a long time ago. The thrill would have worn off by now.
Her throat works as she swallows. My tongue tingles with the urge to lick up the side of those muscles so I can learn what she tastes like. I ache to touch her properly, let alone get my mouth on her. There’s no way I wouldn’t be shooting into my pants the moment she let me.
If she lets you, says the annoying voice in my head.
Ignoring it, I clear my throat. The strained noise is enough to snatch her from the spell she was under. I can’t decide if that makes me relieved or annoyed that the moment’s over.
I can’t take my eyes off her. She pulls back, throwing her guard back up without hesitation, and I make no move to stop her. After the night she’s had, I wouldn’t trust her to do anything else. It’s a familiar sight, and that’s settling in some weird way.
Still, she doesn’t try to run.
Locking my phone, I adjust her bag again. “Let me show you your room. We need to at least get a couple hours of sleep.”
“Thank you,” she says distantly.
The guest room is at the end of the hall, directly across from mine. I pop the door open and gesture for her to step in before following and setting her bag on the king bed.
My mom chose the furniture for both bedrooms and the office that I’ve only stepped foot in a couple of times.
From the black light fixtures, matching wrought-iron bed frame, and single-drawer side tables, it’s very minimal.
With all the sun this room gets, there was really no point in opting for lighter furniture.
Now that I think about it, the colour scheme feels a bit bachelor pad.
I swallow the laugh tickling my throat and pat my thighs.
“There’s a remote in the nightstand that controls both the blinds and the lights.
If you want to shower, there’s a bathroom through that door over there, or you can use the main one down the hall.
Do you need anything else before I head to bed? ”
It’s a bit awkward between us now, and I can’t say I’m surprised. It’s not from the moment earlier, but rather the fact that she’s here, staying the night at my place when we haven’t spoken outside of the coffee shop before. Still, I’m not bothered by it.
I can handle a bit of awkwardness.
“No. I’ll be fine. Your room is . . .?”
“Right across the hall. If you need anything, you can just let me know. I sleep with the door cracked a bit. When are you wanting to head to the café?”
Her brows tug a bit. “I’ll need to call Ruthie before I go to sleep and let her know what’s going on. There’s no chance she isn’t already there, about to call anyway. So, I guess, whenever you want to drive me. Tomorrow is going to be a lot.”
“I’ll be leaving for the stadium at nine. If you’re good for that time, I’ll drop you off on my way.”
There’s a beat of silence before she turns, eyes jumping up to mine. Her hands are flush to her sides, but her fingers are moving, betraying her anxiety.
“How long am I staying here?”
“However long you want to. Tonight was mandatory, so I knew you were alright, but if you want to find somewhere else tomorrow, I won’t try to force your hand. Even if I want it to be here.”
Her shoulders lower a bit, making my chest puff. “That’s a tomorrow problem, I guess.”
“Yeah, it is. Just focus on sleeping tonight,” I murmur.
Unable to help myself, I pinch the same piece of hair that’s fallen out of place at her cheek and curl it around my finger.
She doesn’t tug it away and instead lets her lashes flutter a bit, like she’s battling falling asleep right here.
I exhale, struggling not to lift her clear off her feet and tuck her beneath the thick black blanket.
“You need anything, Quinn, you let me know, yeah?”
She nods. “Yeah.”
“Alright.”
After tucking her hair back again, I stroke her cheekbone and then drop my hand. My steps are forced as I set a water on the dresser and leave the room, shutting the door behind me.
Only once I’ve gotten into my own room do I realize the hand I used to touch her is trembling.