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“My mom left when I was fifteen.” The words were out of Shane’s mouth before he could stop them. He was as shocked as Quinn that he’d even spoken. And now that he was talking about his mom, he had trouble stopping. Maybe it was seeing Quinn and his mom that stirred up old feelings. Or maybe it was just that he trusted Quinn.

“She was really vibrant and always trying new things or wanting to go to new places. And my dad loved her completely. He’d give in to her every whim regardless of whether we could actually afford it. He bought her a new car and put in a swimming pool. He got her painting classes and tennis lessons and yoga classes. When she was done draining the family bank account and my dad’s business bank account, she left. We just weren’t interesting enough for her.”

“Fuck, Shane.”

He shrugged because he was suddenly feeling pathetic. “It’s okay. Broke my dad’s heart. Took him years to get over her.” He didn’t mention that he spent several years resenting his dad for giving her everything, letting her waste all the money that he worked hard for. For not being enough to keep her. But he got over that with the help of time. Now he just strived to be indifferent toward the memory of his mom.

“I’m sorry.”

“I heard that she passed away years ago. Dad’s better now. He and I are close. We usually meet up once or twice a week for a beer.”

“That’s cool. I never knew my dad. He left when I was a baby.”

“Got any latent daddy issues to match my mommy issues?”

“Nope,” Quinn said and flashed him a wide grin. “It’s hard to give a shit about someone you never met when you nearly lose the person you’ve loved your entire life.”

Shane chuckled. “Good point.”

He had his dad. And right now, he had Quinn. It was a good place to be.Chapter TwelveShane followed Quinn up the broken and weed-infested sidewalk to the rundown apartment building. Quinn looked nervous, constantly glancing over his shoulder at Shane as if he was expecting him to run back to his car. Shane just kept smiling. That was not to say that he didn’t hit the lock button twice more on the key fob when Quinn wasn’t looking. It wasn’t a great neighborhood.

His first instinct was to be pissed at Rowe for paying Quinn so little while working him like a dog. But while he didn’t know Rowe that well, he was sure that the man took great care of his employees. He suspected that Quinn was funneling the vast majority of his paycheck to his mother’s nursing home and seeing that she was always in good hands.

He was torn between being incredibly proud of Quinn and wanting to smack him for not taking better care of himself. Instead, he kept his damn mouth shut because it wasn’t his place to comment one way or the other. There were enough lines that had gotten blurred that day. He wasn’t making shit worse.

They tromped up the narrow, dark stairwell to the third floor. Quinn pulled his keys out of his pocket and fumbled with them for a second, trying to find the right one. “It should only take me a couple of minutes to throw some laundry in a basket.”

“No rush.”

Quinn finally found the right key and was about to put it in the lock when a loud voice bellowed on the other side of the door. A groan left Quinn and his shoulders slumped. This must not have been a good sign. “My roommates are home,” he grumbled and then unlocked the door.

Shane followed Quinn inside, struggling not to cover his nose against the smell of stale beer and dirty socks. The short hall ended in a square living room that was dominated by a massive flat-screen television and a leather couch. There was a small coffee table, but it was hard to see under the empty beer cans, fast-food bags, and other random bits of trash.

A giant tank of a man was sprawled on the couch in a pair of basketball shorts and a blue and white UK tank top. His blond hair was mostly hidden under a backward ball cap. He took one look at Quinn and his mouth dropped open.

“Holy shit! Q! You’re alive,” he shouted loud enough to send his voice bouncing off the wall.

“Ha ha, Vince,” Quinn said half-heartedly.

“Dude, I haven’t seen you in a month. I had Tanner stick his head in your room yesterday to make sure your dead body wasn’t on the floor or something.”

“Whatever. It’s not like you’d smell it over the stink in here.”

Vince flipped him off with a grin. “I’ll buy your prissy ass an air freshener. Who’s this?”

“Shane Stephens,” Shane said.

“A coworker,” Quinn quickly added.


Tags: Jocelynn Drake, Rinda Elliott Ward Security Romance