Page 74 of Roommate's Guide to Love

“Ouch! Shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

I’m up in a flash and turn around to see a horrified look on Quinn’s face. It’s then I see her holding her finger, and blood gushing from it.

“Quinn!”

It only takes me three steps to get to her, grabbing her around the waist and all but carrying her to the sink. I flip on the water and hurriedly put it under the running water.

“Here, hold it there.”

She doesn’t argue as I start tearing apart my cupboards for my first-aid kit. Of course it’s in the last cupboard, but luckily it has gauze, ointment, and various sizes of bandages.

“Here,” I say, grabbing her hand again, and wrap the gauze around her finger, holding it tight to try to stop the bleeding.

“I swear I’ve cut vegetables before,” she says through her tears. “I just?—”

“Hey. It’s okay,” I say, holding her finger a little tighter, which brings us closer together, as Quinn is a little off balance. “Just breathe. Let me take care of you.”

Our eyes are locked as I hold the gauze around her finger. Minutes pass in silence, and I have to remind myself to check if she’s still bleeding, or worse, that she’ll need stitches.

The bleeding has stopped enough that I can put on some antibacterial ointment before securing the new bandage.

There’s just one problem. Even though the bleeding has stopped and the bandage is on, I don’t let go of her hand. I also don’t break the stare we’re sharing.

She’s right there. I could just lean down and take those lips that I miss every day. I can smell a faint bit of her perfume, and it’s enough to drive me wild.

I want to drive her wild.

I want to walk into this kitchen on an exact day like this and kiss the hell out of her.

I want her. All of her.

“My favorite color is red.”

Her words are a whisper, and the only reason I know she spoke was seeing her lips move. Because I was staring at them.

“What’s that?”

She swallows the lump in her throat. “You wanted to know my favorite color. It’s red. And pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza unless ham and pepperoni are involved, and even then it’s debatable. And Turtle is the name of a character from my favorite book as a kid. I always said that if I had a cat, I’d name it Turtle.”

“Thank you,” I say, bringing her bandaged finger to my lips and placing a soft kiss on it. And then I do the hardest thing I’ve had to do in a very long time.

I drop her hand and walk away.

guide to love #94

Women are strong beings—until we see a hot man with a child.

21

quinn

“We needtwo glasses of wine, a club soda, and three crispy chicken salads.”

“And don’t skimp on the ranch!”

“Please!”

I turn around from the tedious task of wiping down the liquor bottles to see my three favorite women walking into The Joint.

---