But Karma and I weren’t on speaking terms, because the bitch took my dad and my uncle when they didn’t do a bad thing to anyone.
“I gotta get to class.” I turned back, quickly hugged Miley who held on a little too long, and walked away.
“Wait up,” Colby said, jogging to reach me. “I’ll walk with you.”
I looked around, noticing that everybody had gone back to what they were doing already, the show over, and nothing else to see. Except for two people who were looking right at us.
Leaning against the wall with a perfect view of what had gone down, his hands tucked into his leather jacket, and his black denim legs crossed at the ankles, was Quinn, his eyes fixed on me under his black baseball cap, his freshly injured face expressionless, with Josh at his side.
Quinn and I stared at each other until I reached the entrance to the hallway near the art room. It was only then I saw the darkness fall across his features, his eyes no longer on mine, but on Colby.
“Got anything interesting to work on for your fall project?” he asked as we headed inside.
I shook my head. “Not yet. I’ve still got a few more to catch up on.”
“Need any help?”
I tilted my head to look up at him, seeing he was already looking down at me, his eyes searching my face. He was a little closer than I was comfortable with, so I sidestepped a little while walking, so he didn’t notice. Only, he did. He stepped back into the space I’d just created. “Uh, no, but thank you. It’s just some business logo designs that Mr. Spiers said I needed to add to my work portfolio.”
“Well,” he said, nudging my arm. “If you want to go over anything I’ve already worked on, I’d be more than happy to show you.” His lips turned up, hitting his hazel eyes. “Well, if Quinn’s okay with it.”
My brows furrowed. “Why would it have anything to do with Quinn?” My immediate reaction was to tell him Quinn and I weren’t together, that he’d made it up and he has no say in who I spend time with, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it—something told me to shut my mouth.
“He’s…” Colby’s eyes widened, and he sucked in a deep breath at the same time he lifted his shoulders. “He’s intense. I’d hate to cause problems between you.” Colby’s probing inspection of my face, as though searching for something—a tell, maybe—had me averting my gaze.
“Yeah, well, that’s Quinn for you.”
Intense, moody, trouble, a douche… Yet, he’d made sure I got home safe.
Without looking, I knew Colby was still looking at me, the heat of somebody’s stare burning into the side of my face.
His arm brushed against mine as we walked, sending prickles to break out over the skin there, and my pulse to race, but it wasn’t the kind that felt good. Again, I tried to create a distance between us by slightly increasing the width of my stride, but it made no difference. He continued to intrude on my personal space.
“Uh, Colby?” I asked, still not turning his way.
“Yeah?” His voice was low now, the tone rumbling, and my skin crawled as goosebumps broke out all over.
“A little space, please?” I held my hand out, gesturing at the lack of distance.
“Oh, sure,” he apologized as though surprised. He made enough room that I could breathe again without feeling like I was sharing his air. He chuckled quietly. “I think I might have a problem with personal space when it comes to you.”
“Well, you need to fix that problem,” I said, stopping outside the door to the art studio.
He raised one brow, a cocky smirk settling over his features. “Maybe we could fix it so it isn’t a problem?”
I frowned and leaned away from him in disbelief. “You’ve just mentioned Quinn not being okay with you helping me, and now you’re hitting on me? Seriously?”
He shrugged this time, a knowing grin wide on his face, his eyes dancing with humor. “I don’t see Quinn here telling me otherwise.”
I balked, my lids widening. “I’m telling you otherwise,” I snapped. “I don’t need Quinn to warn guys away from me—I can do that all on my own.” When Colby just grinned wider, I pushed open the door to the room and walked in ahead of him. “Un-fucking-believable.”
Quinn’s offer was beginning to look appealing.
***
Once classes were done for the day, I walked out into the parking lot, spotting Miley and a few others standing near my car. I hurried over, wondering what was going on.
“Miley?” When I saw her face and the direction of her attention, my jaw dropped. “What the fuck?” My hands shot to my head, my fingers running over the top. “Oh, this day just gets better and fucking better,” I shot out sarcastically. I circled my car, checking for damage other than my slashed tire.
“Who could’ve done this?” Miley asked, coming over and putting her arm over my shoulders and hugging me to her side. “Kinsley, I’m so sorry. This isn’t a usual thing to happen here, I swear.”
Voices talked amongst themselves, chatter about what I’d done to be targeted flying around.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” I replied, ironically. “Apparently, trouble follows me wherever I go. I think I need to get a restraining order.”
That got a laugh from her, but she coughed it back. “Sorry, but that was kinda funny.”
I gawked at her. “I’m glad I could brighten your day.” I turned back to my car, wondering how the hell I was going to get home.
No.
He was the first thing that popped into my head, but I couldn’t call him for this; it wasn’t an emergency like the other night. I wasn’t stranded, and it was only late afternoon.
His words from that night came back to me, and rather than get caught up in another argument with him, I took out my phone and looked up my contacts.
“Are you calling your mom?” Miley asked, her arm sliding from around me.
“No, she’s at work on the other side of the city,” I said, still looking down. She wouldn’t be able to come out for me; she was working on a case and would probably be in a deposition. I found Quinn’s number, and a ghost of a smile passed my lips when he’d entered Quasimodo as his name. I pressed the phone to my ear and waited for it to ring.
“Kinsley,” Quinn answered, his voice rough, rumbling through the phone and tickling my ear.
The hair’s on my neck stood on end at the same time my breath caught in my throat. “Hey, Quinn,” I managed, and Miley’s eyes snapped to mine, wide open, her chin dropped, and her hand slowly coming up to cover her gaping mouth. That was odd, but I put that out of my head.
“What’s up?” he asked. “I take it something’s happened for you to call.”
“Ya think?” I fired back, closing my eyes in a silent cringe. I needed to control my runaway mouth. “Okay, so, one of my tires has been slashed—”
“What?” he ground out. “When?”
“No idea. I came out after my class, and I saw it. This car doesn’t come with a spare, and the repair kit probably won’t hold up to a huge fucking hole in the side,” I said, gesturing to the wheel even though he couldn’t see me.