Chapter 6
Quinn
Me: Hi, it’s Quinn. We were talking at the bar the other night, remember?
Cassie: I recall talking to someone. I didn’t catch his name though. Might have been you?
Me: Was he really good looking?
Cassie: No. Ugly as sin.
Me: Ha. Sounds about right. Nick wouldn’t want us talking. This is a really bad idea. I shouldn’t even be texting you. He’ll lose his shit if he finds out.
Cassie: What’s it got to do with Nick?
Me: Nothing. Everything.
Cassie: And yet you still messaged me?
Me: Yeah.
Me: Been thinking about you.
Cassie doesn’t respond for what feels like hours but is probably only about ten minutes. I’m not normally one to seek out trouble, but those incredible blue eyes of hers have filled my dreams over the past few nights and whether Nick likes it or not, I’m drawn to her in ways I can’t even begin to explain.
Glancing down at my phone again, I notice there are no little dots flickering across the screen, no indication that she’s messaging me back.
Fuck.
I’m such a dick. I shouldn’t have reached out to her in the first place. I shouldn’t have pushed things. I knew better, and yet I did it anyway. If Nick finds out Cassie’s name is even in my contact list, he’ll probably have a hit put out on me. I’m totally going to hell for this. I hope my funeral is a decent send-off. Reed will make sure of it, won’t he? I can’t exactly rely on Kael to throw something together. Can you imagine? With Kael in charge of proceedings, I’ll likely end up with strippers and a fucking keg at my wake, and well, Jaxon…
My phone pings.
Cassie: I’ve been thinking about you, too.
My back snaps straighter than a hockey stick as I stare down at the screen. Oh man . I’m in big trouble. Hell. Did I mention hell? I should have mentioned hell, because I’m pretty sure I’ve got a one-way ticket to Hades, and I’m heading there real soon.
Dead man walking.
I read the message again .
I’ve been thinking about you, too.
Grabbing a beer from the refrigerator, I walk over to the living room and collapse onto the oversized couch. Crossing my feet up on the coffee table in front of me, I run one hand back through my hair while still staring down at my phone.
I’ve been thinking about you, too.
Danger signs flash in front of me. Sirens. Red lights. Alarms. There’s some dude screaming into a megaphone for me to toss my phone on the ground, put my hands up in the air, and then walk away slowly. I heed the stern internal voice telling me this is wrong. But yeah, fuck that. Because the ties that bind us aren’t always visible, but that doesn’t mean they’re not there. And this is one tie I don’t plan on severing.
I type out a quick reply…
Me: Feel like shit going behind Nick’s back.
Cassie: Nick is a big boy. And we’re just friends, right?
Me: The guys don’t think we should be friends.
Cassie: Apparently you agree.
Me: That’s not true. I want us to be friends. But Nick would kill me if he knew we were even talking.
Cassie: I’m looking at him right now. Should I say hello for you?
Me: Don’t you fucking dare. Wait. You’re with Nick?
Cassie: Yeah .
Me: WHY?
Cassie: Oh, SHOUTY capitals. Dinner at his folk’s place.
Me: Sorry, didn’t mean to shout. I hit the wrong button. Fat fingers.
Cassie: Lol. We get together about once a month. It makes his parents feel better knowing I’m still around.
Me: Annie and Tom are good people.
Cassie: They are.
Me: Can’t imagine what they’ve been through. But why is Nick watching you?
Rising from the couch, I wander over to look through the rain-soaked windows to the dark street below. Typical cold, wet weather for this time of the year and just the thought of being caught out in it is enough to make me shiver.
Streetlights shine off in the distance as I gaze out over the city. It’s so quiet in my apartment. So peaceful. The only sounds I hear are the occasional jets flying overhead and the distant hum of traffic crossing the Brooklyn Bridge to the east.
I crack open my beer and take a swig as another message pops up, and I’m sorry, but whoever said it’s impossible to decipher emotion through a text message is way off because Cassie’s tone practically seeps with annoyance.
Cassie: Because that’s what Nick does.
Me: He cares about you .
Cassie: How do you know?
Me: I’m a mind-reader.
Cassie: You’re an idiot.
Me: See? I totally knew you were going to say that. Maybe he’s watching you because you’re smiling like a lunatic while you’re texting me. Is that it?
Cassie: I’m smiling because Annie just brought out dessert. I like you. But I like cake even more. Talk later?
Staring down at the screen, I can’t wipe the stupid smile off my face. What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve never had a reaction like this to a girl before. And never before has a single word held so much promise. Later. It’s like when you were a kid, begging your mom for something totally unattainable, and she’d say, ‘I’ll think about it.’
Fucking awesome. You’re in with a shot.
I send back a quick reply.
Me: I’ll hold you to it.