Shit shit shit.Make it better, Jax…
“I’m sorry, I just…”
“No,” she cuts me off, shrugging her shirt back on and shooting me a glare. “If you didn’t want to do this, then what the fuck was that?!”
“I’m just trying to do the right thing here,” I groan, raking a hand through my hair and tugging at it. “I mean I obviously fucking want you, Quinn, but we can’t…”
Quinn throws open the passenger door, climbing out before I can finish.
“Wait, where are you going?” I call, but she slams it behind her.
Fuck. I quickly throw open my own door, buttoning my jeans as I jump out. By the time I make it around to the passenger side, Quinn is kicking off her sneakers.
“What are you doing?” I ask, and my eyes practically bug out of my head as she bends at the waist, pulling down her leggings and panties in one swift motion.
“Do me a favor and drop my stuff off by my car,” she says, removing her shirt, balling it up, and tossing it at me. “I’m gonna go for a run.”
“Quinn, wait…”
But it’s too late. The air shimmers around Quinn as she shifts, her beautiful silver wolf emerging where she stood. She shakes out her fur, glances back at me over her shoulder, and before I can say another word, takes off into the forest.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Quinn
I’m not sure what’s worse- Jax embarrassing the crap outta me while I was topless with my hand down his pants, or the fact that I can’t even vent to my girlfriends about it. My first reflex was to go to Kyla, but she’s got a lot going on right now; it doesn’t feel right to unload on her about a hookup story. Because that’s all it was- a quick, sleazy hookup in the front seat of Jax’s truck. This isn’t a love story. Hell, at this moment, it isn’t even a ‘like’ story.
Confiding in Brooke is out of the question for obvious reasons, and I don’t know some of these other squad girls well enough yet to know if I can trust them with my secrets. So I’m left alone with my thoughts, muddling through training on Monday morning while avoiding so much as a glance in Jax’s direction. I’m still pissed at him, and little does he know I’m a champion grudge holder.
Kyla and I pair up together, which is a good distraction from the feeling of Jax’s eyes on me all through practice. Poor girl is still hurting over what Tony did, but if the way she spars with me is any indication, she seems to already be moving from the depression phase to anger. I’m glad, because I’m so ready to join her in cursing the men of the world right now.
The leaders call for the morning training session to end and the reserve squad recruits begin to disperse while Kyla and I linger on the field for a few minutes chatting. I can feel Jax prowl up behind me before he even speaks, smell his tantalizing scent carried on the breeze. Kyla’s voice trails off as she looks past me- presumably to him- and when her gaze returns to me, her brown eyes widen.
“Quinn, can we talk?” Jax asks, his gravelly voice sending a chill up my spine.
Approaching me in front of my friend is ballsy, I’ll give him that. Then again, Kyla’s known about us since the beginning, so I suppose it’s a safe play.
I blow out a breath, turning on a heel and throwing my hands on my hips. “I have nothing to say to you,” I fire back, but as soon as my eyes meet his, my confidence falters a little bit.
This fucking guy with his beautiful pale eyes, sharp jawline, and chiseled body. The effect his mere presence has on me is unfair, nevermind the fact that the way he’s touched me has basically ruined me for other men. I already know that going forward, he’ll be the one that other guys will never be able to measure up to- andscrew himfor giving me another taste and then yanking it away.
Jax blows out a breath, raising a muscular arm to run a hand through his hair.Damn himfor looking so good when I’m supposed to be mad at him.
“I, uh, had your car towed to Brady’s shop this morning,” he breathes, gaze intently focused on me.
I look away, avoiding his eyes so they don’t pull me in. “You didn’t have to do that,” I say flatly.
“I wanted to.”
I heave a sigh, turning away only to see that Kyla made a silent exit while Jax diverted my attention. I stoop down to pick up my water bottle and sweatshirt- it was chilly earlier this morning- and straighten, darting Jax a glance out of the corner of my eye.
He’s still standing there looking sheepish, his head hung, hands shoved in his pockets. The silence between us is deafening until he speaks up again.
“Quinn… I’m a fucking idiot.”
“You can say that again,” I scoff.
He steps closer and repeats himself. “I’m a fucking idiot.”