Page 27 of Quinlan

Sleep deprivation. There’s no other explanation for this. I’ll have to start taking melatonin again. I have to make the few hours of sleep I have a night count.

“We could catch up soon.” Ray pockets her phone, her white teeth glinting in the morning sun. “We haven’t had wine in forever.”

The tall, impossibly gorgeous guy stops in front of my building.

My eyes can’t help but follow him until he’s leaning against the exact spot mystery man pinned me to last night. My eyebrows can’t help but lower in question.

His somber gaze cuts into me. Amber, definitely amber. Flames crackling in the night. Burning coals.

Danger.

He twists his head to the street, giving me a reprieve from his intense glare.

Offering me a view of his profile.

A pink, bright scar spreads across his cheek. Chin to his ear. He’s clean-shaven and the scar is pale. It could explain why I hadn’t noticed it before.

The scar doesn’t take anything away from how gorgeous he is. The opposite. My need to reach out and touch him intensifies. A fire spreading through me, landing in my fingertips.

Jesus, I need to get laid. I’ve never done that, but it should help. It should fix this intense attraction I’ve been having to two men, for the past two days in a row.

“Quinlan, did you hear me?” Ray waves a hand in my face. Gone is her smile, and in its place there’s an undercurrent of nervous energy. “I have to go, so…”

Oh, that’s right. I’m keeping her from her interview. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“You, me, wine?”

“I have deadlines,” I mumble, more heat creeping up my neck. This man is staring. I feel it. “When I have a spare moment, if ever, I’ll let you know. I’ll even bring the wine this time.”

“Deal. Bye, Q.” She grins, nods, then stalks off.

“Good luck,” I call out behind her. She doesn’t answer. She’s gone.

A strange, yet not unpleasant smell carries to me while I watch her blend into the morning crowd.

“Is this…” I whip around to look for its source.

The man who’s been staring at me stands there. He hasn’t moved from his place, holding to the corner of an envelope.

The rest of it is catching fire.

My eyebrows lower. His rise in a challenge.

Something tells me I can’t back away from here. I have to speak, no matter what comes out of my mouth.

Anything.

“Hate paying bills much?”

The man’s dark expression lightens as if I’ve turned on a switch inside him. He has the warmest smile. Warmer than the sun blaring in my eyes.

His smile vanishes when he returns his attention to the envelope. What’s left of it, anyway. He drops it to the floor, crushing it beneath his black leather shoe.

“You could say that.” His timbre voice is a hand diving into my chest. Holding my lungs captive.

“Are you new here?” I rub the tight spot over my heart. “I haven’t seen you around.”

He’s watching me, studying the movement. I should stop. Shouldn’t enjoy the heat in his gaze.

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