Someone making up a story to keep me from being humiliated? Unheard of.
Meredith knew I was lingering at the meeting for one reason only: Quinn. And Quinn saw that I was being called out for it, and he stepped up. I could kiss him.
I don’t need dragons slayed or rescuing from a tower, but man, it feels good to have someone in my corner when I face the PTA.
As I’m packing up what remains of the cookies I brought, I hear Quinn behind me. “We should set a date.”
I spin around, dropping the cardboard box and watching the cookies spill out. “Oh no, what is wrong with me?”
“Five second rule!” Quinn is already squatting and rescu
ing semi-broken cookies from the floor and tossing them back into the box.
“Quinn. There’s no such thing as a five second rule.”
He stands up and shoves a shard of cookie into his mouth. “Says who?”
“You can’t prove a negative,” I say with a grossed-out expression, watching his sexy mouth devour my germ-covered cookie in a way that I wonder if he is intending to look provocative. He licks his lips and politely waits to speak until his mouth is empty.
“That sounds like a science thing. I teach English; we’re experts in bullshit.”
I exhale an exasperated laugh. “Then just come over and let me get you some cookies that have not been dropped on the sweat-stained gym floor.”
Quinn, for the first time, looks me up and down, and when he speaks, his voice is low. “I’d love to see your place.” The tone sends hot, invisible tendrils across my skin. If we go back to my place, he’s going to want to make out with me.
And I want that, right? Wait, no I don’t. What did I decide earlier about Shelby? This won’t help her social life one bit if her mom hooks up with a teacher. That’s what I’ve decided, and I shall not waver.
Although, Shelby is staying with her paternal grandparents for a couple of nights. You could just allow yourself to have a friend over? A friend who happens to be exceedingly attractive and looks at you like you’re God’s gift. Just this once?
“Okay. Let’s go, we can hammer out all the details there, where it’s more comfortable.” What am I saying? All my life I’ve been using the word “comfortable” and only now it sounds like I’m suggesting sexy times.
I glance around the room to pull my eyes away from Quinn’s heated gaze. Other parents are filtering out of the meeting. I can see Meredith by the door, nodding blandly at someone bending her ear about something, but her eyes are on Quinn and me. She does not look happy. Why in the world would she care if Quinn and I are flirting? Woman, you have a husband, for fuck’s sake.
“Absolutely,” Quinn says. His deep voice snaps me back to the much more pleasant view of his smiling blue-gray eyes. His lips quirk up in a knowing half-smile. “Let’s go hammer things.”
As we go over the plans for the bake sale, the sun begins to set and the light through my kitchen window plays with Quinn’s soft locks and eyelashes.
I know he sees the way I’m looking at him; he’s staring at me with hooded eyes and licking his soft, tempting lips.
I want to reach out and touch him so badly.
“So,” I say, turning to stare down with more intensity at the sheet on my clipboard. “We’ve set the date, which I’ll have to confer with Headmistress Moody about. And we have our list of things I’ll be baking. The gym should be available, and if not, the dining hall renovation should be complete by then and we can do it there.”
I look up and Quinn’s eyes are still trained on me. I start to squirm. He looks so serious all of a sudden, like a predator about to strike.
My phone alerts me to a notification and I welcome the distraction. I check it, and it’s a text from a new client who ordered a baby shower cake for this weekend. She mentions some excuse about having found a baker to do the baby-popping-out-of-the-mommy cake, a design I had talked her out of. Too bad, I think. I was looking forward to impressing her with something different. I shrug and place my phone down, sigh and look back at Quinn, who hasn’t moved.
I’ve never met someone who can stare this intently for so long without laughing.
Finally, Quinn leans forward and plonks his elbow on the counter top and covers his mouth with his hand, staring at me. I hear the faint comment, “Beautiful.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard what I said,” he replies.
I wag my head. “I need us to just be friends for now, okay?” Despite my baser instincts, my conscience wins out.
He leans back and sighs. “Friends. That’s good. As a matter of fact, I could use a friend to help me navigate this political school stuff.”