Read Page 92

“Sorry.” I started to stand and give her her chair back. “We were just talking.”

But she waved me back down. “No, it’s okay. Stay. I can sit by Quinn. He always smells good, anyway. I can drink my latte and sniff him all hour.”Advertisement

Yes, that’s what I usually did all hour too, sans the latte.

He entered the room then, talking to Ten who entered with him, now wearing a T-shirt.

Everything inside me perked to attention.

Next to me, Caroline sucked in a breath.

Quinn looked amazing; his hair was styled as if he’d hand combed it and his shirt was one of those plaid, form-fitting button-up things that conformed to his large frame snugly enough to make my mouth water.

“...and then she scratched the shit out of my back when she came,” Ten was saying. He lifted the back of his shirt that I could now read: “Hey! The chick who usually sucks my dick has a shirt just like yours.” Then he twisted his torso to show off long red scratch marks on his back to Quinn...except all of us saw them.

My mouth fell open as I glanced at Caroline.

Her face went sheet white as she surged to her feet. “Oh. My. God.” Gritting her teeth, she glared at Ten as if she would gladly murder him in that second. She literally quivered as she fisted her hands at her sides.

He paused when he noticed the force of her attention. Dropping his shirt casually back into place, he frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”

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“You know what,” she snarled. “You are. You make me absolutely sick. The way you whore around is appalling. You’d have to dip your dick in acid to clean off all the girls you’ve ever had.”

Pulling back in surprise from the venom of her statement, he started to shake his head, only to snort and ask, “Why would I want to clean that shit off? Took me years to build up that much pussy.”

“Oh...you...” Her rage was so toxic I think it bubbled over into me, because I suddenly felt the urge to—

Snatching Reese’s cup off her desk, Caroline upended the entire drink on Ten’s head.

“My mocha!”

“Shit, woman! That’s hot.”

My mouth fell open as chaos erupted: Caroline fuming, Ten trying to shake off the wet steam oozing down his face and appalling T-shirt, and Reese bemoaning her lost drink. Then Caroline shoulder-checked Ten hard before she stalked off down the steps and out of the room.

Quinn glanced at me questioningly, then he did a double take when he seemed to realize Reese was going to sit by him today instead of me. I swear a smidgeon of hurt entered his eyes, but Ten stole our attention when he started cussing.

“What the fuck was that about?”

I didn’t feel like telling him Caroline had figured out he was her secret admirer, but Reese had no problem clearing her throat and saying, “Maybe next time don’t talk about your sex life in front of her, okay, moron? Maybe then I can actually drink my morning dose of sugar and caffeine instead of watching it wasted all over your stupid, idiot head.”

Ten spread his arms and gaped at her. “I’m covered in second-degree burns over here and you’re worried about your fucking drink?”

“Well...yeah.” Reese rolled her eyes. “And you’re fine. They’re probably not even first-degree burns, you big baby.”

Ten sniffed and turned around to march off. “Unbelievable.”

Reese sniffed too. “I’m not going to be worth anything without my fix.” She stood up and wished Quinn and me a good day before she too took off.

Leaving me alone with Quinn Hamilton.

My breath hitched in my chest as I glanced uneasily up at him.

But he just smiled his usual, warm smile as if he hadn’t been inches from kissing me two nights ago, as if he hadn’t broken my heart when he’d turned to Cora after singing to me, as if I was just a friend who meant nothing more than biology study sessions and the occasional conversation. Then he took Reese’s abandoned chair and sat next to me.

“I haven’t seen you since Saturday to ask if you had any fun on the date,” he said, pulling out his notebook and flipping it open.

My lips parted as I stared at him.

When I didn’t answer him soon enough, he looked up. “Cora says we both got pretty drunk.” He leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “Are you like me? I can’t remember…anything.”

My mouth worked, but when no words came, I closed it. He didn’t remember? Any of it?

I wasn’t sure if I should feel relieved or crushed.

I began to shake my head, slowly at first and then with a little more speed. “No,” I croaked. “No, I don’t remember anything, either.” pqdm.com