Chapter Ten: Quinn

Chapter Ten

Quinn

“So, this is my home,” I say, stepping into the loft. I pull my purse off my shoulder and take my laptop from Archer, setting them on the bench next to my door. I traded my heels for comfortable walking shoes before leaving the office, and kick those off, using my foot to push them under the bench.

Archer takes his shoes off as well and moves close behind me, looking around. A fat orange cat trots over, meowing when he sees us.

“This is Neville.” I pick him up and he instantly starts purring. “The half-cat.”

Smiling, Archer holds out his hand for Neville to sniff. Deciding Archer isn’t a threat, Neville rubs his face on Archer’s fingers. “I can see why you don’t want to give him up.”

“He’s a lover. I wasn’t sure how the other cats would react to him, but they get along fine. The other three are all females and boss this fat guy around.” I walk inside, letting Neville jump out of my arms. “They’re all from the same litter. Someone a few floors down found them in the alley and as soon as I saw them, I couldn’t resist.”

A little voice in my head is yelling at me to stop talking about cats.

“They’re easy to take care of and keep me company.”

Why can’t I stop talking?

“And I don’t have to worry about them throughout the day.”

Neville runs into the kitchen and starts meowing, signaling the others to come join him.

“I always feed them when I get home.”

A dark gray and black tabby winds around my ankles, almost tripping me.

“Bellatrix,” I say, bending over to pick her up. She darts forward, jumping onto the large island counter. The living space in the loft is open, with the living room, kitchen, and dining area all melding together. The entire building was renovated not all that long ago, given a crisp, modern appearance that’s a little bit too contemporary for my liking. My decor is mostly bohemian, and the clash of styles works in a weird way.

It’s home, and I love it.

All too aware of Archer’s eyes on me, I get a can of cat food from the pantry and dish it up, feeling very much like a crazy cat lady as I carry the bowls from the counter to the floor, trying not to trip over the four loudly meowing cats snaking around my feet.

When I turn back around, Archer is standing next to the floor-to-ceiling window in the living room, looking out at the city below. He took off his suit jacket and button-up shirt, leaving just his undershirt on. I run my eyes over him, taking in every inch of his tall body. The white fabric of his undershirt is stretched tight over his muscular arms. It’s untucked, hanging unevenly over his belt. I can’t help but notice the nice curve of his ass and the bulge from his cock behind his dress pants.

My lips part and I remember how it felt, just for that short moment, pressed against me as we stood in the kitchen as the storm raged around us. Through his pants, I could tell his cock was big.

His touch was deliberate, meant to get under my skin, but he knew what he was doing. My nerves tingle as I think about it and some of that annoyance comes back. Good. I need to hold onto it, or my resolve will crumble.

Archer runs a hand through his hair, messing it up, and angles his body toward mine. I shift my gaze from his crotch to his face at the last second, but it might have been too late.

“I’m going to get changed. You can watch TV or whatever.” I whirl around and take off so fast I walk right into the counter. Trying to internalize my pain, I press my hand over my hip where it hit the corner and hurry into my room.

I shut my door and lean against it, hand flying to my chest like that will slow my pounding heart. Get it together. Pushing off the door, I pull the hair tie from my ponytail and go into the bathroom, giving myself a hard look-over.

I wear makeup to work most days, nothing crazy, just a little bit of foundation and mascara to make me look put together. I grab my makeup bag and hesitate, not wanting to look like I tried too hard.

This isn’t a date.

Deciding to do my makeup after I agonize about it some more, I plug in my curling iron and quickly run my brush through my hair. While it heats up, I strip out of my clothes and trade my comfy t-shirt bra for an uncomfortable pushup, topping it with a low-cut shirt and tight black pants.

I curl my hair in record time and go with light eyeliner and red lipstick. Just enough to make it look like I tried, but not that I’m trying too hard.

I think?

Maybe?

I roll my eyes at myself and unplug the curling iron. Grabbing a pair of heels, I go back into the living room and find Archer lying on the couch. Neville is curled up on his chest, and Archer’s eyes are shut.

“Archer?” I say quietly. His breathing is slow and rhythmic. He did say he was running on hardly any sleep. Frodo’s voice gets my attention; Archer had turned on Lord of the Rings. Smiling, I pull the blanket off the back of the couch and spread it over Archer.

*

“Morning, sunshine.”

Archer sits up, blinking. “Shit. I fell asleep.” He stretches his arms up over his head, and the hem of his shirt goes up an inch or so, showing off his fit abdomen. My eyes go right to the little trail of hair leading to his big cock. “How long was I out?”

“The movie isn’t over yet, so not that long.”

“You should have woken me up.”

“Nah.” I wave my hand in the air. “It was much more fun to draw all over your face in Sharpie while you were sleeping.”

His eyes narrow ever so slightly. “You wouldn’t.”

I lean in. “Oh, I would. But I didn’t. Not this time. You looked a little too helpless. I knew you were tired.”

“I’d say I’m surprised I fell asleep, but I’m not.”

“That’s why I didn’t want to wake you up. I haven’t worked a hundred-hour week at the office, but I’ve pulled some long nights and know how awful it is when you’re running on no sleep.”

“I’m used to it.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s good for you. We can order takeout and you can go back to sleep if you want.”

“And stay the night here?”

“Don’t get any ideas, Dr. Jones. Your ass will be sleeping on the couch again.”

“The couch? This place is too big to only have one bedroom.”

“True, but that doesn’t mean you can sleep in it.”

He rolls his neck. “You’d really make me sleep on the couch over a comfortable bed?”

“No, I wouldn’t. But I don’t have another comfy bed. The second bedroom is set up—”

“For the cats?” His perfect lips curve into a smartass smirk.

“As a home office.” I cross my arms, wondering if I’d be able to slip the cat-tree into the closet before he walks past. I twirl a curl around my finger. “Want me to order Chinese?”

“No, I said I wanted to take you out.”

“So you do want this to be a date.”

“Would it be a bad thing if it was?”

My body is saying no, it wouldn’t be bad. It’s begging and pleading for me to go, reminding me just how long it’s been since I felt the touch of a man. But my heart…it’s screaming even louder, telling me yes, it would be a very bad thing.

“I don’t know.”

Archer stands, and his cock is right at my eye level. I turn my head up, meeting his eyes.

“What do you have to lose?” he asks.

Everything.

“Fine. Let’s go on a date.”

“Don’t tell Dean.”

I roll my eyes and let out a sharp breath. Of course he has to bring up my brother. “I send selfies from all my dates to my brothers.”

“Really?”

“Yes, for their approval,” I say seriously before shaking my head. “You know what’s kind of crazy?”

“What?”

“I’m my own person and I’m able to function without telling my brothers everything.” I put my hands on the arms of the lounge chair and stand up. “I’m going to get changed.”

“Again?”

“I’m wearing my pajamas. I changed after you passed out on the couch.”

“Oh.” He looks me over. “You look good. I didn’t even notice.”

I will not blush. I will not blush. I will not—dammit. “Well, I think everyone else will notice my pants have little dancing elephants on them. And I’m not wearing a bra.”

“I did notice that.”

“Pig.” I cross my arms over my chest.

“That’s making it worse, Quinn.”

A quick look down tells me crossing my arms just pushed my tits together so they’re almost spilling out of my tank top.

“I’ll be right back.” I clamp my hands over my breasts to cover my nipples and do my best not to run away. Deciding not to go with the sexy outfit I’d previously picked out, I pull a blue dress over my head. I discovered a while ago a cute yet comfy dress can make it look like you put more effort into your outfit than you actually did. Dresses seem to have that effect, fancying-up your appearance simply by not being pants.

“I still think you looked good in the pajamas,” Archer says when I emerge from the bedroom. “But I do like this too.”

“Thanks.” He put his button-up back on and has the sleeves rolled up. I don’t know why that look is so damn sexy, but it is. “The professional look works for you.”

“I prefer my scrubs with a stethoscope hanging around my neck so everyone knows I’m a doctor. But, unfortunately, I didn’t bring them.”

“You’re going to have to pretend to be a lowly peasant like the rest of us.”

“If that’s what it takes to get you to go on a date with me, I’m willing to take one for the team.” He moves to the door and puts on his shoes. “Shall we?”

“Hang on, I need to get my selfie to send to Dean.” I put my arm around him, doing the cheesiest pose I can think of, and snap a picture. “And now to caption it…” I pretend like I’m writing a text message. “Archer is taking me on a hot date tonight. Don’t worry, we’ll use protection.” I flick my eyes to him, smiling. “Sent.”

“Hilarious, Quinn. We both know Dean would try to kill me if he thought I was hooking up with you.”

“He would kill you.”

“He’d try.” Archer hands me my purse. “I could take him.”

The image of Archer’s bulging biceps is seared into my memory. “Yeah, probably.” I punch in the code on my alarm and open the door. “I guess we better not tell him then.”

*

“Now this one is serious,” I say, tipping my head up to look at Archer. We’re slowly making our way along the Riverwalk after getting dinner and drinks. I might be a little buzzed. Whether it’s from the alcohol or the electricity humming between Archer and I, there’s no way to tell.

“I’m ready.” Archer takes my hand, lacing his fingers through mine.

“You’re alone in the car and ‘Living on a Prayer’ comes on. What do you do?”

“I turn that shit up and belt it out. Which I’d do even if I wasn’t alone, just to warn you.” He pulls my hand back, bringing me to him. The wind picks up, and I shiver. Archer lets go of my hand to wrap his arms around me. The feeling he gives me can only be described as butterflies, and I haven’t experienced anything like this in years.

“Did I pass the test?”

“Yes,” I tell him. “But things are about to get more intense. “What if ‘Shake it Off’ comes on next?”

“I’m alone?”

“Totally alone. On a country road.”

“Hmmm.” His hands slide up and down my back. I shiver again, but not from the cold. “That song is catchy. I’ll be singing and dancing.”

I laugh, throwing my head back so the wind doesn’t blow my hair into his face. “Do you even know the words?”

“No. I know what song you’re talking about. I think. Maybe? I don’t want to fail your test.”

Hooking my arms around his shoulders, I shuffle closer until my hips brush his. “There was no test. Mostly because I wasn’t keeping score.”

“You put me through all that for nothing?”

“Guilty. What are you going to do about it?”

In a sudden and swift movement, he scoops me up and turns to the river.

“Archer,” I squeal, clinging to him tighter. “Don’t you dare!” We both laugh and his hands linger over my body as he sets me back down. We stand there, close together, both of our hearts pounding. The wind blows my hair again and Archer gathers it in one hand, moving it to the side of my neck.

“Have you decided yet?” His deep voice cuts through the night. He looks into my eyes when he talks and the confidence is sexy on him. It’s not over the top. It’s not hyped up to over-compensate for something. It’s completely genuine and is doing bad things to me right now.

Bad things that would feel so good.

“On what?”

“On whether you want this to be a date or not.”

I bite my lip. “You have to answer one more question first.”

“If your question is if I put out on the first date, I have been known to.”

Laughing, I bring my hands down from his shoulders, splaying my fingers on his chest. An attractive man who can make me laugh…I need to run far, far away. Because as much as I want this to continue, I know it won’t.

It can’t.

“That’s kind of along the lines of my question.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “I like where this is going. What’s your question?”

“If this is our first date, will you take me out on a second?”