Page 46 of Puck My Stepbrother
He slipped the knapsack off his shoulder and put it by the door.
“Well?” I asked.
“I guess I can stop and talk…for a little while, anyway.”
“Awesome. Let’s go sit in the living room.”
Quinn shuffled behind me. I’d heard notes of hesitation, maybe even mild irritation, in his voice, but I brushed them off. And sure, we could’ve conducted the conversation at the kitchen table, but you know how I operate. I could’ve asked to talk upstairs, but I didn’t because I’d set a different goal for myself tonight.
Before you ask, the answer is yes, I did wait up for Quinn. And yes, I was aware of how much I must’ve looked like a dog staring out the window, waiting for his owner to return home.
I’d waited all day to talk to Quinn, to hear his voice and gaze at his beautiful face, and it had felt like an eternity. Finally seeing him was the highlight of any day. Laugh if you want. My feelings for Quinn reached beyond sex, or even my opinion that he was the hottest thing going. I saw something special in Quinn Standish, even if others, including himself, had missed those qualities. He possessed an aura, that special something that made him different from anyone else.
Once in the living room, I collapsed onto the couch and sank into the cushions, but Quinn sat at the opposite end. He’d listen to whatever I meant to tell him, but he’d keep his distance all the same. But I wouldn’t make this easy for him. I stretched my legs out so my toes touched his calves, an accidental contact that wasn’t an accident at all.
I waited for Quinn to speak, but for a while he just peered down at his hands. His lips moved, but no words came out.
Finally, he said, “I didn’t want you to think I was avoiding you.”
“Bullshit.”
He arched his eyebrows like he couldn’t believe I’d declared his comment crap so swiftly.
“No, really,” he said, “I didn’t mean to. I just?—”
“Quinn, I know you came home late for a reason. And I know you wanted to run to your bedroom as fast as your feet could carry you. It’s okay.”
“And what about you?”
“Fine, what about me?”
“You were sitting at the door, watching, waiting for me. Don’t tell me you weren’t. I have no idea how long you were standing there, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was an hour. Maybe two.”
Thirty minutes was the correct answer, but I wouldn’t cop to anything. He had me there—one good turn deserved another and all that. If I hadn’t waited for Quinn, I would’ve missed his arrival home. That would’ve meant going a full twenty-four hours without seeing the object of my desire. I also ran the risk of making it forty-eight if I couldn’t catch him tomorrow.
But I wouldn’t tell him any of that. Why give him any leverage?
“You were waiting for me.” He stated it as a fact, not a question. He’d also gained ground on me for the first time, hallelujah. I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t true, but I also wouldn’t add any extra information to his arsenal. Quinn knowing what he did already made me feel weak. No need to fuel the fire.
“I missed you. Is that so bad?”
“You did?”
I nodded. Suddenly it was hard to find words. I don’t know why. For the first time in years, emotion threatened to overcome me. I just couldn’t deal with it.
I wouldn’t admit that jealousy had also played a role. For all I’d known, he’d been at Jeff’s house. Sure, that guy was nothing compared to me, but he still had more of Quinn’s attention than I liked.
“Things have changed a lot for me since we started living in the same house,” I said.
Quinn looked away. A lot had changed for him, too, but he’d deny it as surely as I’d disowned my own feelings.
“Look at me,” I said.
He did as he was told.
“What do you want from me?” His voice trembled.
“I want you to listen.”
