A pacing figure scares the crap out of me as I step out of the building, my hand flying up to keep my heart from jumping out of my chest. It takes one heavy exhale before my pulse starts to race for an entirely different reason.
“Superman,” I coo, automatically reaching for him, only to be met with dead air when CK steps out of reach. “Wha—”
“I bet your mom will be happy to see the pictures of you and Grady together,” he says, cutting off my question and confusing me further.
“You’re mad I took a selfie with him?” I’ve taken pictures with a lot of people tonight. It’s a party—that’s what we do. “I wanted to take pictures with you too, but you had just up and left us.”
CK’s jaw works side to side, but he remains silent. Thanks to all the alcohol pumping through my system, each second that ticks by without him saying anything cranks my temper higher.
“Is it just Grady you have a problem with, or do you suddenly have an issue with Trav and Alex too?”
Again…nothing. Not a single word.
“You’re the one who’s been avoiding us all night.”
“Don’t be dramatic, Quinn.”
I suck in a breath, the air whistling through my teeth. “Excuse me?”
A muscle ticks on the side of his jaw, and I get an overwhelming urge to slap him.
“You’re acting like we all haven’t been together all night. And now you’re freaking out because I missed a few selfies?”
Now I’m the one not saying a word, literally biting down on the tip of my tongue to help rein in my temper. But…Jesus! No one triggers it worse than CK.
“You could have joined us, you know.” I wish he would have joined us. I know he’s been here, but I miss him.
He glances back over his shoulder, but the party, which has tripled in size since we arrived, is too far away for anybody to pay us any mind. “No, I couldn’t.”
“Why not?” Annoyance creeps into my tone.
“Because…” He grips the back of his neck, and I’m momentarily distracted by the pop of his biceps.
“Because why?” I take another step closer, only for him to step back again. “You’re not making any sense, CK.”
His cheeks puff as he blows out a breath, his eyes scanning me from head to toe. “Because any time I’m near you, I want to touch you.”
“And that’s a bad thing, why?” If I had my way, we’d be touching as much as is socially acceptable. Hell, I would take a page out of Mason’s playbook and push that envelope.
“Because—”
Ay dios mío. I’m really getting tired of hearing that word come out of his mouth.
“—then everyone will know we’re”—he circles a hand between us—“you know.”
He can’t be serious right now.
“Again,” I mutter through gritted teeth, “I ask, why would that be a bad thing?”
“Because.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, CK,” I shout, shoving my hands into my hair and yanking at the strands. “We’re back to talking in fucking circles.”
He drops his chin to his chest. “I’m sorry.”
Great, now I feel like an asshole. “I don’t need an apology,” I say, softening my tone. “But I do need to know why we’re not just telling them about us. If we do that, then you can touch me all you want.”
“What would we even tell them about us?”
I fall back a step, the question damn near knocking me on my ass. “Umm…that we’re dating.” My tone is pure Duh, it’s not rocket science.
“They’re never going to believe that.” It may be the alcohol talking, but I swear as his eyes take me in, they’re filled with disgust.
“Oh my god! You’re kidding me, right?” He flinches back when I step to the side to see around, and I growl. God forbid I get close enough to touch. Geez. “They know I like you.”
“Knowing you like me and believing we would actually be together are two entirely different things.”
I cross my arms in front of my chest, tucking my hands inside the bend of my elbows to keep myself from reaching out and strangling him. “It blows my mind how, for such a smart guy, you can say the dumbest things.”
“You say that, but only an idiot would believe I could be with you when you’re so clearly not on my level.”
#CHAPTER37
* * *
I’m a fucking idiot.
This whole night—hell, the last thirty-six hours have been a test of patience that has only helped push me into making one mistake after the other.
It was one thing when Quinn’s time was being monopolized by Emma and Kay. It was entirely another when I started putting purposeful distance between all of us because of my own insecurities.
What the fuck is wrong with me? Why is it that I let the sight of Grady push me into acting like not just a moron, but an asshole as well?
And, as if karma didn’t take a big enough pound of flesh via Quinn reining in her temper instead of coming at me like she typically would, it’s now coming at me for the dickish shit I said to her by having Grady be the one to find me hiding out where the Drunk Jenga is set up.
“Umm…you do know your girlfriend is pissed as fuck at you, right?” Grady nudges me with his elbow.
I’m not sure which fact I want to be true more—Quinn being my girlfriend or her being pissed at me. That hot-poker-slicing-between-my-ribs feeling is back because, again, I’m reminded that Quinn just walked away. No yelling. No cursing. No fiery temper putting me in my place.
That hurt.
That tells me just how badly I fucked up.
“I told you, Quinn’s not my girlfriend.”
I mean…she’s not, right?
“Yeah, oh-kay.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Grady smirk before lifting his Solo cup to his mouth.
“She’s not,” I reiterate.
“And why is that?” he challenges.
“Because,” I hedge noncommittally, keeping my focus off him and on the teetering Jenga tower in front of me.
“Oh, wow, things are so much clearer now.” I roll my eyes at Grady’s sarcastic comment. His sarcasm is amateur at best compared to those I live with.
Oh, shit!
It’s actually a goddamn miracle that Grady is the first person to approach me in the last two hours. There is no way the others—at the minimum, the ladies—are going to let what I said go, especially now that I realize how misconstrued it was.
I think Quinn had taken four steps away from me when I realized she thought I was talking about her not being good enough for me when that was the complete opposite of what I meant.
Fuck me.
“So is it because she’s not your ‘girlfriend’”—I do not appreciate the air quotes Grady puts around the word girlfriend, nor the fact that he is pulling me out of my thoughts—“that you’re all the way over here while she’s all the way over there?” He hooks a thumb somewhere behind him where I assume Quinn is.
I shrug, but Grady annoyingly waits out my stubbornness until I admit, “I can’t be around her right now.”