Page 12
She laughs despite herself, shaking her head. “You’re exhausting, Larkin.”
“Yeah, but I’m growing on you.” I shoot her a quick grin. “Like a very charming fungus.”
Quinn rolls her eyes, but I catch the way the corner of her mouth twitches.
I pull up two blocks away from her building like a responsible criminal.
The last thing I need is someone seeing Coach Brennan’s daughter climbing out of my Porsche at midnight. I kill the engine and we walk the rest of the way without talking.
Under the streetlight in front of her building, I stop.
She turns to face me and fuck — there it is again. That mouth. The same one that softened against mine an hour ago. The same one that’s currently pressed into a tight line.
I don’t even think about it.
She’s standing there under the light by her building, cheeks still pink from the cold, looking up at me with those big blue eyes, and kissing her again feels like the most natural fucking thing in the world.
So I step in, dip my head, and go for it.
Quinn’s hand lands flat against my chest before I get close.
I stop.
“I’m not one of your puck bunnies, Wyatt.” Her voice is quiet, but there’s a sharp edge underneath it that wasn’t there two seconds ago. “And I never will be.”
The words land like a liver shot from a gorilla.
For half a second, everything stalls.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Yeah, I heard her. I just have no fucking clue how we got here.
She looks pissed. Royally pissed, actually. But there’s something else underneath it that makes me straighten.
“Whoa.” I take half a step back. “That’s not what that was.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Her hand drops from my chest, but she doesn’t relax. If anything, she folds her arms tighter across herself.
“Because you kissed me once, and now you apparently think you can just do it whenever you feel like it.”
I blink at her. “I thought you liked it.”
The second the words leave my mouth, I know they’re the wrong ones.
Her eyes flash. “I did.”
That shuts me up.
She glances away for a second, toward the door, then back at me.
“I liked it,” she repeats, quieter this time. “That’s kind of the problem.”
