I barked out a laugh. “How the hell would you know?”
He tipped his head a tiny bit, gesturing behind him. “I could see you from way over there. In the dark, where nobody knew I was even here.” His lips crept up at the corners, a sinister expression turning my stomach into balls of chaos, crashing and exploding inside of me with violent randomness. “Now, are we going to discuss this like adults, or do you want to bicker some more? I haven’t got all night, Kinsley. In fact, I’m going to be leaving soon, and I’d rather make sure this shit was settled first.”
“Look,” I sighed, but the pounding in my chest made it sound like a shaky breath falling from my lips. I swallowed hard. “I don’t know who you are, or why you insist on continually pissing me off, but whatever this ‘shit’ is that you need to settle, you don’t need me for it.” I took a step to the side to walk around him, but his massive frame got in my way. I tipped my head back to look up at him. “What do you want, Quinn?”
His long lashes cast shadows over his cheeks, the dancing flames from the fire making them jump about. That’s when I noticed a small scar in his right eyebrow. I was so close to him I could see a few freckles across his nose, so light that they were easy to miss.
“Finished staring at my face?” he growled.
I blinked a few times but didn’t look away. “I wasn’t,” I lied. “I was wondering where your next cut is going to be, or the next bruise.” I let my eyes wander over his features, taking note of the defined cupid’s bow in his top lip, and the small dimple in the center of the bottom one. God, he was beautiful up close. A shame he was such a dickhead. “Maybe even a black eye on the other side?”
Quinn’s hard expression relaxed, and he straightened up. “You pay attention to me,” he stated.
I shrugged a shoulder. “I’m an art major. I pay attention to everything regardless, so don’t go thinking you’re special.”
“So, we’re all art to you?” he snorted.
“Sometimes, but you… I’d say you were abstract.” I grinned, adding a touch of snark.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
I snorted. “You take English, I’m sure you can figure it out.”
I looked over Quinn’s shoulder, what I could see anyway, and spotted Miley and her friends staring at us. “Look, this was soul-destroying, but I should get back to the girls—they’re waiting for me.”
Quinn shook his head. “Just give me five minutes. Over there, in private.” He gestured to the shadows where he’d come from.
I flinched in surprise, my brows shooting upward. “You’ve just taken up at least ten of the precious minutes I’ll never get back.”
He reached out and touched my bare forearm, his warm fingertips causing my skin to break out in goosebumps, tiny prickles racing up my arm like reverse dominoes right to my scalp.
“Two, then. Everyone’s already staring, and no doubt Colby has passed on that we’re together, so talking to me isn’t going to look out of the ordinary, is it?” he ground out.
I narrowed my eyes and glared hard. “Fine, but if you try anything stupid, I’ll make you regret the day you ever spoke to me.”
His brows furrowed. “Try what, exactly? Kinsley, what do you think I’m going to do?” His concerned face gripped me, my heart racing again as he examined my features too close for my comfort.
“I don’t know, Quinn, why don’t you tell me?”
“Hey, I want to talk to you about something, okay? I’m not going to touch you… At all.” He glanced around once. “If I were, I’d be fucking stupid to do it with this many witnesses.”
My shoulders dropped, and I huffed out in resignation. “If it means you getting out of my face sooner, then sure. Let’s discuss whatever the hell it is you want.”
He turned, and I walked beside him, nodding to Miley to let her know I was okay. Phoebe and Jojo were staring after me, while Josh and Rachel were busy talking.
Once we were out of sight, Quinn sat down on a long piece of driftwood, just enough space for me to sit, too, but I stood.
“Sit down,” he said, gesturing to the open space next to him.
“I’d rather not.”
He rolled his eyes. “You look fucking stupid standing there. How does it look for my girl to be avoiding me?” He smirked.
I scowled, my hands curling at my sides. “Not funny, and I still don’t know why you did that.”
“Sit, and I’ll explain. You promised me five minutes.”
“Actually,” I corrected him, “it was two, and you’ve had way more than that.” When he deadpanned, I huffed but sat anyway. “Okay, shoot. What did you want to say?” I breathed in, a fresh scent of body wash and aftershave flowing up my nose, the mix of citrus and something clean and fresh oddly complementing each other.
“Actually, it’s a proposition,” he said, breaking my thoughts, and my mouth fell open. Cool air blew across my face, drying my wide eyes.
I blinked fast, then choked on a bitter laugh. “Excuse me?”
“Jesus, not like that,” he admonished. “A deal. Kind of an I help you, you help me, deal.”
“Doesn’t sound any better.”
“Hey, then that’s you with the dirty mind, little miss.” He chuckled, then stopped when I looked pointedly at him, but his smirk stuck in place. “Okay.” He shifted in his seat, seemingly a little uncomfortable, then faced me. “I need you to be my girlfriend.”
“What?” I shrieked, my hands flying out. “Are you fucking insane?” I tried to stand, but his hand caught my arm. I spun and grabbed his hand, quickly twisting his thumb backward to make him let go. The bastard didn’t even flinch, so I added more pressure, pressing harder and harder until my hand was shaking from the force.
So much for not touching.
“Had enough?” he asked.
I looked down and saw that he’d already released me, but I’d kept pushing against his still suspended hand. In my instant response to being grabbed, I’d gone further than necessary to remove him. There was no reason for me to try to hurt him other than I couldn’t stop.
I let go, then rubbed my wrist. “Depends,” I fired back. “Are you going to try to grab me again?”
He held his hands up and shook his head. “Consider this a touch-free zone. I’m sorry if I scared you.”
My head tipped to the side. “You’re apologizing? You don’t seem the type to apologize for his behavior. In fact, I’d say you’d celebrate your asshole-ness if you could”
“Of course,” he replied, an indignant expression settling across his features. “I shouldn’t have done that, so I’m sorry.”
I watched him for a few seconds, guarding myself as I lowered to the space next to him. His warmth was welcome against my side from the chill that was growing in the late air.
“Okay, so why the crazy proposition?” I asked when it was clear he was waiting for me to relax. His deep blues were on me intently, running over my face and back up.
“I want to be left the hell alone,” he began, jerking his chin toward the party. “I get that it looks like I am right now and that this request is fucking weird—believe me, I know how ludicrous it is—but I know you want to be left alone too.”