Quinton pulled into the driveway to Mr. Cole’s house. Both of us had been quiet for a few minutes now. Not an awkward silence. It was more him being quiet and giving me time to digest what he had told me. I appreciated his silence more than he would ever know.
I liked this side to Quinton. I liked most sides to Quinton. Not that I would admit that out loud to him or anyone else.
I unbuckled my seat belt and reached for the door handle.
“Babe,” he called quietly.
I looked to him in question and was surprised at what I saw. He looked angry. No, he looked enraged.
What the?
“What’s wrong?”
His eyes darted to Mr. Cole’s house then immediately came back to me. They were now guarded, he’d put his wall back up, hiding his emotions from me.
“Nothing,” he muttered quietly. Then, louder, he asked. “What are your plans for the night?”
What? Change of subject much?
“I’m going to go to bed,” I told him honestly.
Like I had energy for anything else. Please.
“Good,” he said. Then he demanded, “Now give me a kiss before you get out of my car.”
I couldn’t help myself, I laughed.
Please.
If he wanted a kiss, he could kiss my ass.
I did not think so.
I opened the door and slid my right foot out, placing it on the cement driveway.
“I will see you later, Quinton,” I told him as I climbed out of his car.
Kiss him, he’d said. Like I was at his beck and call. What an asshole.
He put his tongue in my mouth once, and the only way he’d pulled it off is because he’d surprised me. That did not mean we would be doing it on a regular basis.
I walked into the house without a backwards glance. If I looked back at him he might think I didn’t want him to leave me and I could really use some time to myself at the moment. I know that sounded absurd because I had had a whole month to myself, but I really needed to catch my breath.
The beeping of the alarm greeted me inside the house and I moved quickly to silence it.
“Ariel,” Mr. Cole called from the kitchen. “Is that you?”
“Yeah,” I shouted back.
“Come here for a second.”
I froze, not wanting to go there. He meant the world to me, but I wasn’t sure what to think in regards to him anymore. Too much had happened, and I hadn’t had enough time to process it yet.
I walked into the kitchen and stopped short. He stood with a hip against the counter in gray draw string pants and a black short-sleeved t-shirt. His hair was messy, as if he’d been pulling at it excessively. There was stubble along his jaw and he had dark circles under his eyes.
My heart clenched painfully at the sight of him. Was it my fault that he looked so bad? Had he not been sleeping?
“What’s wrong?” I asked in a flat voice.