Текст книги "About Last Night..."
Автор книги: Belle Aurora
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
Chapter Fourteen
Mia
My day passed relatively quickly. I couldn’t believe Ella, Pip, and I managed to organize a charity event from top to bottom in only two days, but that was why we worked for Addison Ltd. We were good.
After my meeting with Nicholas the morning prior, I was called into the office of Addison Dietrich. It surprised me an awful lot that she still carried her ex-husbands last name. But then, that wasn’t my business.
The stunning blonde had been facing out of the window when I knocked. Then she turned and my heart started to race. She didn’t look happy.
“Mia. Sit, please.” She added the please, but I don’t think she meant it.
I didn’t dare speak. This woman was fierce. A mental image of Addison Dietrich in female Viking armor, holding a sword and shouting as she felled a man with a single swipe of her blade crossed my mind, her blonde hair braided at the sides, her current scowl present. The man felled was Nicholas.
I gulped. “Have I done something wrong?”
Oh, God, I sounded weak. And like a bear, she smelled fear on me. I know this, because she grinned, catlike. “I don’t know. Have you?”
My head tilted in thought as the previous day ran through my mind in fast-forward. “No.”
She ran a delicate hand over the front of her little black dress, smoothing it over. “Firstly, I wanted to welcome you to the team.”
It seemed the right time to say “Thank you,” so I did. But I added, “I’m happy to be here.”
Her grin fell from her face and she looked me up and down as if to say, ‘You should be.’ Rather than saying that, she uttered a cool, “I saw you had the misfortune of meeting Mr. Dietrich. I’ll not apologize for his behavior, because I’m not his mother, but you’ll be glad to know he doesn’t normally work from the office so he won’t be seen.”
I was confused and made the mistake of stating, “Mr. Dietrich was a complete gentleman. He seemed very nice.”
Her eyes flashed and her voice turned an eerie quiet. “A gentleman was he?”
I realized I had fucked up, and tried to fix my relationship with my in-office boss. By fix, I mean fuck it up further in a huge way. “What I meant was that Nicholas helped prepare me by giving me a few tips.”
Oh, shit. Had I just called my outer-office boss by his first name?
The air around Addison turned ice-cold to match the frost forming in her eyes.
But I didn’t stop there. Almost wheezing in distress, I added, “Mr. Dietrich was completely professional. At all times. Even when I accused him of following me. Not that he was. He was just a guy on my bus. I didn’t know he was my boss when he smiled at me.”
Well…shit.
Addison’s cheeks had flushed Barbie-pink. “I see,” she stated, and I wanted to yell, ‘No, you don’t!’ but I feared anything I said further would be held against me in the court of Addison. Clearing her throat, she ran a finger down the cool wood of her desk. “I need you to understand something, Mia, because you’re a pretty girl.” Her icy gaze met mine. “If you fuck my husband, I will end you.”
My mouth rounded in shock.
Before I could speak, she went on, “I don’t make threats. I make promises. I’ve been in this industry a long time, and if I find that you and…” she gritted her teeth and hissed out, “Nicholas have been disregarding our office fraternization policy, you will never work in events ever again. Not in this city, anyway.”
My blood ran cold. My face pale, and I sputtered feebly, “I-I-I-I don’t even know him.”
Addison Dietrich smiled. “Good. Then you don’t have anything to worry about.” She extended her arm to the door. “That will be all for now.”
As I numbly stood and walked out of the office, Addison called out, “Oh, and Mia?”
I turned and waited. She searched my face a moment before adding sincerely, “Nice work on the Johnson’s charity dinner.”
Walking back to my desk, I sat and wondered how I could go so quickly from yesterday’s highest high to today’s lowest low.
The sad truth of it was that some things could only be cured with a doughnut. Or three.
My brother had been pestering me for some time now about coming to my new apartment, so when he called offering to pick me up and take me to dinner, I accepted immediately.
The truth was Harry was my biggest fan, and I was his. Oh, sure, I tried to act the grownup, but sometimes, all I wanted to do was vent then cry on his shoulder like I had done so many times during high school. He was my hero, my champion, the only man in my life I would ever truly trust and feel safe enough to rely on. My brother was a good man with a gentle heart. I loved him a lot.
He pulled up out front of my work and wound down the window as I walked to the car. “Excuse me. Have you seen a short, annoying girl with gigantic ears and a gimpy leg? Chews gum like a horse and answers to Minnie?”
Shaking my head, I stepped into his silver sedan, buckled up, and then punched him in the arm. Hard. “Good afternoon to you too, butthead.”
He chuckled. “Why am I suddenly allowed to see your apartment? Are you out of food already, or did you just give in knowing I’d wear you down?”
My smile was weak. “I know you’re busy. You don’t need to babysit me.” A jolt of pain in my arm stunned me as my brother punched me. Rubbing my arm fiercely, I shouted, “What the hell was that for?”
Harry looked irritated as he drove on. “You think the only reason I wanted to come see your place was out of obligation?”
I stared at him with a face that read, ‘You’re trying to tell me it’s not?’
He glanced over, read my face, and shook his head. “I’ll admit I’ll always feel responsible for you, Mia, and I won’t apologize for that. But did you really think I only wanted to see your place because I’m checking up on you? Maybe it’s because in the past five years I’ve only seen you at holidays. Or maybe it’s because you make me laugh and I have fun with you.” His voice turned quiet. “Maybe I just missed my damn sister, Mia.”
I felt the beginnings of an emotional outburst starting at the way the bridge of my nose started to tingle. Blinking away tears, I confessed quietly, “I missed you too, Har.” Coughing away my haywire feelings, I asked, “But you’ve got Quinn, right?”
Harry snorted then teased, “He’s my friend, Mia, not my boyfriend. We hang out a few times a week. Most nights, he’s busy, which suits me just fine considering I work nights.”
I couldn’t help myself. “What does he do at night?”
Harry stilled, thinking of his answer. “He dates a lot.”
I smiled to myself at my brother’s blatant lie. He was a good friend. I thought back two years ago. It was Christmas, and Harry had a little too much to drink. He had caught a cab straight from work at the bar to Christmas dinner at Mom’s, and by the time he arrived, he was already three sheets to the wind. It made for an interesting dinner, with Mom yelling an appalled, “Oh, my God, Harry. Are you drunk?”
Harry just hugged her, picking her up and spinning her in circles, laughing. “Yeah, Mom. I’m drunk. But guess what? I’m over twenty-one and spreading the Christmas cheer!”
He spotted me then and his smile waned. “Mia?”
I had lost a considerable amount of weight before coming home for Christmas. I smiled. “No. My name is Juanita. I’m here for the food.”
Harry grinned and came at me, hugging me tightly. “Get over here, smartass. Jesus! You look great, Minnie!”
Mom huffed. “She’s losing too much weight. It’s not healthy.”
But Harry just looked at me with pride. “Well, I think she looks beautiful.”
After our feast, Mom had retired claiming a headache, and being jetlagged from my flight home, I said goodnight to Harry, leaving him to watch TV on his own. I made my way upstairs, changed into pajamas, and brushed my teeth. Christmas dinner was heavy, and I desperately needed a glass of water to keep by my bedside, so I made my way downstairs.
I expected Harry to have fallen asleep. I didn’t expect to overhear him on the phone.
“Come on, Quinn, I’m bored. Let’s go out!” I had only heard one side of the conversation, but it went something like this: “Are you fucking kidding me? A client on Christmas?” A slight pause. “Yeah, well, I guess rich housewives get lonely on the holidays too. I hope DFT’s paying you triple-time, bro.”
My brow creased. What was DFT? Was that where Quinn worked? I made a mental note of the business name.
Harry sighed. “Yeah, yeah. Go service your lady of the night. At least one of us is getting lucky and getting paid for it.”
Curioser and curioser.
Harry had ended the phone call as I made my way into the family room. He looked up at me. “Can’t sleep?”
“Just need some water.” I smiled as I walked to the kitchen, quickly retrieving a glass of water, bidding goodnight to Harry and heading back upstairs. I was stopped at the sound of Harry’s voice.
“Mia?”
I stilled at the foot of the stairs and turned to face him. “Yeah, Har?”
He looked at me then, but it was different from the many times before. He searched my face as if he was looking at someone he no longer knew. “You look good, kiddo.”
As soon as I entered my bedroom, I closed the door behind me and retrieved my laptop from my bag. I typed quickly, searching for Matt Quinn and DFT, but no searches matched. Trying once more, I simply typed in DFT and waited.
I clicked on the first entry and began to read.
Women’s services… Hire-a-date… Satisfy your hunger… Escorts for every occasion…
I replayed what I had heard of Harry’s conversation with Quinn. “Yeah, well, I guess rich housewives get lonely on the holidays too. I hope DFT’s paying you triple time, bro.”
It all made sense. My mind was blown. That was the night I discovered Matt Quinn was an escort for hire. A prostitute. And that would cement my plan two years in the making.
My brother drove in silence as the radio played in the background. An idea hit me and I turned to him. “Do you remember when Josh Turner backed out on me at prom and you came as my date?”
Harry’s brow furrowed. “Yeah?”
“Remember where you took me afterwards?”
He shrugged. “Sure. We went to Giovanni’s for pizza.”
Nodding slowly, I turned to face the road and uttered a nonchalant, “I could really go for a slice right now.”
Without a word, he made a turn at the next traffic light and started driving in the opposite direction. “A Giovanni’s pie it is.”
The groan that escaped me was long and low. I rubbed my belly and turned to Harry. “Oh, God, I ate so much. Why didn’t you stop me?”
He looked down at his own slightly protruding stomach then scowled at me. “Why didn’t you stop me? This is all your fault. I was doing so well before tonight.”
I snorted then uttered, “You can do without steamed vegetables and tasteless chicken for one night, you know? You’re pushing yourself too hard. If you don’t treat yourself every now and again, one day, you’ll snap and eat everything in sight.” Eyes wide, I looked at him and assured quietly, “Trust me. I know.”
His face pinched as if he were thinking. “You wanna workout together sometime?”
A pleasant smile crossed my face. “Sure. Actually, that’s a great idea. That way if one of us wants to miss a day, the other can chew their ass.”
The car slowed as we approached my building. He parked in my allocated space, considering I had no car, and we made our way up to my apartment. As we walked to my door, Harry made an awful joke about a Rabbi and his dog, and even though it was stupid, I laughed so hard I snorted.
My snort-laugh alerted Terry to my return, and the apartment door opposite mine flew open. A very gay, very attractive man in white shorts and a light pink tank emerged holding two cocktail glasses of some sort of concoction with tiny umbrellas and a pineapple garnish, and he sang, “Margarita night! Holla!” But then Terry saw Harry standing behind me. “And who is this?”
I smiled at my friend. “Terry, this is my brother, Harry.”
Terry stomped his foot lightly and made an awww-face. “Your brother?” He handed both Harry and me the margaritas and pulled us into a group hug. “It’s so good to meet you, brother Harry.” He let go and grabbed our free hands, pulling us toward the open apartment door. “Come on in. Bill’s making more drinks, and nachos are just about ready.”
Harry’s face screamed ‘help me’ and I swallowed down a laugh. Gently extricating myself from Terry’s falcon-like grip, I tried to save us with, “Actually, Terry, Harry just came down to see my apartment.”
Terry simply snorted. “Oh, honey. There’s nothing to see there.”
My face bunched. “Hey!”
Terry looked to me and uttered a contrite, “Sorry, sweetie,” then turned to Harry and made a face that said, ‘No, really, it’s hideous.’
Seeing I wasn’t following him, Terry rolled his eyes, raised his hands above his head, and gave in with a curt, “Fine!” He turned to Harry and muttered, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He threw a smile my way. “When you’re done in…” Terry fought a shudder as he pointed in the direction of my apartment, “…in there, come over so we can watch trashy reality TV together.”
Terry sashayed into his apartment, closing the door behind him, and Harry turned to me slowly, holding up his cocktail glass. “So, that was the freakiest thing I’ve ever experienced.”
From behind the closed door of the apartment opposite mine came a sassy and loud but muffled, “You’re welcome, brother Harry!”
Laughing under my breath, I unlocked my apartment and went inside. I turned on the light, dropping my bag by the kitchen counter, and explained, “Yeah. They’re a little nutty, but they’re super sweet and really funny.”
Harry closed the door behind him then sipped at his margarita. “So, I’m guessing that was Terry, of Bill and Terry.”
I sipped at my own drink, nodding with my eyes full of humor. Harry just shook his head, muttering, “Margarita night, trashy TV, and nachos.”
His eyes scanned the small space that was my home and his brows lifted. “Sheesh. He wasn’t kidding, was he? It’s kind of bare in here.”
My shoulder jerked in a small shrug. “I like to think of it as charming.”
“Charming? To who, a hobo with no other options?”
That didn’t offend me. I simply grinned. “I like it.”
Harry smiled then. “You would. Always did like unusual.” He lifted his margarita in a toast. “To your new place. And may God have mercy on your soul.”
We clinked glasses and drank. I sat on the counter while Harry took the only seat available in the apartment. A bright pink beanbag.
Chapter Fifteen
Quinn
Work had officially become tiring. It had been a long while since I had worked this hard in a week, but the clients were there and my time was free, not to mention the money for this week alone would amount to what some people would earn in a year.
Money had always motivated me, but for some reason, it was no longer doing its job at making me happy. I was tired. Exhausted. All I wanted to do was go for a walk along the beach then get a full night’s sleep. It didn’t seem like a difficult request.
Okay, so maybe there was an underlying fact to my bad mood. Perhaps it was because I had waited for Maya to call¸ as she said she would, and then she didn’t. I waited till the very last minute before I gave up on her, and showered before meeting with Camilla.
Camilla was a woman in her late-forties who had an obsession with erotic romance novels. She was a divorcee with three children who were all in their teens. Camilla was lonely. She craved intimacy, and she chose me to deliver.
I didn’t see Camilla all that often, perhaps two or three times a year. It made me feel like shit that she had to save her money for that long to secure a visit with me. It bugged me so much that when her last appointment, three months ago, was booked on her birthday, I called Candy to tell her to charge the appointment to my credit card.
It didn’t seem fair that she pay an arm and a leg for an hour of my time on her birthday. Needless to say, Camilla enjoyed her birthday present immensely.
I had received my instructions beforehand, as per usual. It was pretty straightforward stuff. If I were a new escort, it would probably creep me out, but I knew Camilla, and if what she liked was to recreate some of her favorite erotic romance scenes, then who was I to judge?
I was Camilla’s only real option. Some of the scenes she wanted to try were pretty racy, and even dangerous. I was touched that she trusted me to keep her safe.
When I arrived at the hotel, I made my way to the concierge and requested the room key that had been left for me. Candy sent me an email to let me know Camilla would be in the room for an hour prior, preparing herself. I received the key in a shimmering cream envelope and made my way to the elevator.
I watched every floor tick by as my thoughts drifted to Maya. Why hadn’t she called? Was she okay? Had something happened? I shook my head, pushing the thoughts away.
Camilla. I was here for Camilla. I needed to get my head right.
Looking down at my key, I made my way to room 701, took a deep breath, and then slipped the plastic card into the slot. The light turned green. I opened the door gently as I could, and entered the room.
Darkness greeted me. It was a good thing I had been in these rooms so many times before, or navigating around the furniture would be hell. The curtains were drawn tight. Not a speck of light was showing, even though the sun hadn’t fully set.
I slowly walked over to the foot of the bed where Camilla lie feigning sleep. As I moved, I lifted my hand to work on the buttons of my white shirt. It fell to the floor with a whoosh. I slipped off my shoes and socks, leaving me only in my black slacks, then put my knee to the bed.
The mattress squeaked lightly and I heard Camilla take in a breath. Had she touched herself before I arrived? Was she dripping for me?
I studied my part well. Leisurely, I climbed over her with my knees by her thighs. My eyes had adjusted to the dark. I could make out the outline of her body, her curves, and her breasts. I lifted my hand to run my fingers down the side of her throat. That was Camilla’s cue.
She gasped loudly. “Who’s there?”
I smiled. She really did love playing a part. I couldn’t blame her. It was freeing to not have to think about your next move.
Sobering quickly, I drawled, “I’ll be whoever you want me to be, baby.” Then I ran my finger over the lace of her bra and the curve of her breast then into the valley between them.
I heard her swallow hard. She croaked, “Who are you? I don’t know you. Get out or I’ll call the police!”
My laugh sounded cruel, harsh. “No, you won’t, Camilla. You like the feel of me, of my body. Feel me.” I ground my hard length into the soft skin of her bare thigh. “Feel how hard I am for you.” I separated from my script then, only for a moment. I reached for her hand, gripped her wrist, and brought her palm to my material-covered, throbbing cock. I wrapped her hand around my hard length then placed my hand around hers, forcing her to gently jerk me. My voice went hoarse. “You want this, Camilla. I know you do.”
As per script, she didn’t respond, but her breathing turned heavy. I uttered softly, “It’s okay, baby. It’s all right. I’m not here to judge you. I just want to make you feel good.” Leaning down, I kissed the exposed side of her neck then whispered against it, “Let me make you happy.”
With a soft groan, Camilla’s stiff body slumped, her arms out by her sides. I had just been given full access.
Camilla was tall for a woman, but still short against me. She had an athletic body because of the marathons she liked to compete in, and had little in the breast department, but her ass was enough to hold onto. I gave her what she needed to feel feminine. I knew this, because she always wore sexy underwear, even when she wasn’t seeing me. I knew this, because she told me so.
I liked that she had that, that she had something she liked about herself. Women could be so critical on themselves. They could be their own worst enemy when it came to body image.
What women didn’t realize was that most men weren’t worried about a little extra weight, or cellulite, or even stretch marks. At least, for me it wasn’t an issue. We liked you in bed, as long as you were enjoying yourself. A horny woman was always a turn on.
My tongue darted out as I licked the side of her neck, silently thankful that she hadn’t put on any perfume. I gently sucked, careful not to leave marks, then nipped the skin there. With my chest pressed to hers, I felt her nipples go taut against me.
My hands found hers and slowly, I raised them above her head, holding them down firmly. But we both knew the truth; she could easily escape if she wanted to.
Camilla didn’t want to.
My lips found hers and I was pleasantly surprised at the sweet, minty taste of her mouth. I hated the taste of wine and, quite frequently, had to work past it. I kissed her deeper and she sighed into me.
A kiss was nothing but clinical to me. I felt it, but I didn’t really feel it at all. To me, it was the equivalent of somebody touching my arm. I could feel it, and it felt pleasant, but that was all. That was where it ended. I was desensitized.
Camilla seemed to enjoy my body weight on her, so I left it there, slowly grinding my hips into hers. With one hand, I worked on my button and zipper then worked my pants down my legs. I kissed Camilla harder, pushing her hands down in warning as I lowered my own to remove her panties. Then, in one swift move, I rolled us. We had switched places.
Camilla was wet already. Sopping wet. As I lay back on the bed with my hands on her hips, she ground her bare pussy into my thigh. My cock jerked. I could smell her. My mouth watered.
Would I ever get sick of sex? No. I didn’t think so. I loved it too much.
My hands slid up her hips to hold her just under the arms, then I pulled. She landed on top of me and my hand tangled in her hair, pulling her mouth to mine in a searing kiss. She moaned lightly and I felt pre-cum bead at the tip of my burning cock.
I wanted to fuck her, but this wasn’t about me. It was about Camilla. My arms went around her as I sat up, taking her with me. I pulled back, and with a rough tug at her bra, her breasts were free. I lowered my face and took a small nipple into my mouth. It was my turn to groan.
Fuck, but I loved tits.
Camilla gasped for breath above me. Her hands went to my head and her fingers ran through my hair before grasping tightly. When I nibbled at her taut bud, her grip tightened as she panted. The harder she tightened her grip, the harder I nibbled.
She was well and truly ready, my thigh covered in her juices. And I wanted nothing more than to eat her pussy till she came on my face.
I loved it when they came in my mouth. It was dirty, and hot, and uncivilized. And I fucking dug it.
I lay back down, holding Camilla by the waist, keeping her in a sitting position. Gripping her tightly, I lifted and pulled forward. She moaned out an unsteady, “Oh, Jesus,” as my lips came into contact with hers, and not the ones on her mouth.
My tongue dipped in, tasting her musk. She tasted spicy and sweet. I dipped in for another taste. Then it came to me. She tasted like cinnamon. I liked cinnamon.
With her knees at the sides of my face, I ran my hands down them as I delved deeper. I kissed her, and sucked her, and licked her. I swirled my tongue inside of her, up and down, then sucked on her hard little button. She screamed brokenly and her thighs tightened around my head, holding me in place as she began grinding herself into my mouth. I wished I could reach my cock. I wished I could grip it hard and jerk it harshly. I wanted to come so bad that I almost forgot what I was doing.
Camilla worked herself into me as I ate her. She loved this as much as I did. My hands reached back and found her soft, tight ass. I dug my fingers in, squeezing hard. I pulled back to growl, “God, you’re so fucking sweet. I could eat your pussy all day long, baby.”
I couldn’t begin to tell you how many women I have said that exact line to in the past four years. I couldn’t tell you, because it was almost every time. And that was a lot of occasions. Well into the thousands. They were just words, but the women liked them.
My lips sealed over her sweet spot and I sucked hard. Camilla whined softly then louder and louder. Her legs tightened around my head harder and harder, till she let out a hoarse yell. I licked at her entrance and felt it pulse against my tongue.
Oh, yeah. That was the shit right there.
Before she could recover from her orgasm, I reached under the pillow and pulled out the condom Camilla let Candy know would be there, ripped it open with my teeth, and then pushed her back on the bed as I sheathed myself. She collapsed, completely slumped. I smirked at her limp body, knowing this was exactly what she needed.
With my throbbing cock in hand, I stepped off the bed and stood at the side of it. In one quick movement, I hooked an arm under Camilla’s belly and pulled her back to the edge of the bed I stood at. I arranged her as I wanted her; she didn’t need to do a thing.
I placed her knees at the edge of the bed and helped her to rest on her hands. I liked doggy and knew she liked it too. True, I wasn’t exactly sticking to the script, but I was sure if Camilla didn’t like this she would tell me.
My hand came down on her ass cheek and the slap echoed throughout the room. Crack! Left then right. Over and over till her body squirmed. I grasped my cock then ran it through her nectar, lubing so this would be as pleasurable for me as it was for her.
I pressed my groin to hers, leaning over her to run my hand up her back and press gently between her shoulders. She understood and lowered her face to the bed, her ass in the air.
The head of my cock slipped inside of her and she gasped, “Oh, God.”
She was a religious little thing. But God wasn’t going to help her today. I teased her, lightly moving the tip in and out, sliding fully out of her and rubbing my engorged head against her puffy lips.
I gave myself a mental pep talk. Don’t forget…this is about her. This is about her. This is about her.
God, I was a horny toad.
Slowly, I drove my length inside of her without pause, needing her to feel every single inch as it penetrated. She panted breathlessly and I felt her pain, the need to go at it rough and hard. Bottom to groin, she was fully impaled on me, and it felt great.
A rough rumble came out of me. “You ready, baby?”
Her response came in the form of her ass pushing back against me as she moaned long and low.
Pulling out almost completely, I thrust back inside of her warm pussy. Her moans drove me. With every needy keen, I thrust harder, then faster. Before long, I held her hips as I powered into her. I was ready to blow, my movements becoming irregular and jerky. Then Camilla’s back bowed and her body went rigid. She did this soundlessly, but after a few more seconds of pounding into her, I felt her clamp around me erratically.
That was all I needed. The light turned green and I sped off to the homestretch. Placing an arm under her belly, I pressed my chest into her back, restricting her movement and thrusting into her wet core hard and deep.
It didn’t take long before I felt the telltale tingles at my lower back. My vision went black as I thrust deeper and deeper before finally, colored spots danced behind my eyelids a moment before my body went stiff. I held my breath and gritted my teeth as my cock jerked inside of Camilla, filling the condom with come.
I held Camilla in my arms a good thirty seconds before I could move again. I slipped out of her and gently lay her on the bed, covering her with a sheet. She sighed dreamily, and I knew she would be asleep by the time I came out of the bathroom.
That was one of the reasons I liked Camilla. There was never an awkward goodbye. She fell asleep and I left. Till next time.
Making my way to the bathroom, I cleaned myself up and dressed, then quietly made my way to the door. I listened to the soft snoring of Camilla as I made my exit. I left my key on the table by the TV and closed the door behind me.
I stood in the hall, rubbing the back of my neck. I was officially fatigued, drained, and yet, I wanted to know if Maya was awake. I wanted to hear her voice before I went to sleep.
The first thing I did when I pulled into my building was turn on my cellphone. I didn’t even think before I called.
She sounded groggy, as if I had just woken her. “Quinn?”
Shit. I hadn’t checked the time before I dialed. I pulled my phone away from my ear and saw the time.
1:32 a.m. Yeah. Shit is right.
“Hey, sorry I woke you. I just wanted to check on you, see if you were okay.”
She sounded confused and adorably sleepy. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
I wouldn’t scowl. I wouldn’t. “You didn’t call.”
I heard ruffling in the background as I imagined she sat up. “I know. I sent you a text.”
Then I did scowl. “No, you didn’t.”
She argued right back. “Uh, yes, I did.”
“Didn’t.”
“Did!”
I fought a sigh. This was going nowhere fast. “Would I be calling to make sure you were okay if you had sent me a text?”
She paused. “Hold on a second.” She pressed buttons on her cell and I pulled it away from my ear as it beeped again and again. She muttered, “Shit,” then came back sounding apologetic. “You’re right. I did write out the message, but it’s still sitting in my drafts. I must’ve never hit send. Sorry, Cap’.”
I smiled at one of my many nicknames. “It’s all right. I really just wanted to make sure something hadn’t happened to you.”
Her voice came across pleased. “You didn’t need to do that.”
My response was immediate. “I wanted to.”
She swallowed hard then replied softly, “I’m okay.” Then she paused a moment before whispering, “Goodnight, Quinn.”
My heart skipped a beat, and it shocked me. “Sweet dreams, babe.”
She hung up and, looking down at my phone, I thought about the husky sweetness of her voice. I’d bet my life she had a soft pink blush on her cheeks.
It took me five minutes of thinking to realize I had been standing outside my front door, in the hall the entire time.
