Page 23 of Fast Break
“You’re awake,” I hear. I manage to peel my eyes away from ogling Quinn’s body to find his eyes on me, an amused expression on his face, highlighted by that crooked smile.
“Ah, yeah,” I manage to utter. I am positive my face has flushed bright crimson because it always does when I least need it to, but I can’t help it. Quinn closes the gap between us, perching on the edge of his bed right beside me with his very naked chest right there in front of me and those jeans still not quite buttoned. Am I having an aneurism right now? I think I am.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, voice equally amused and concerned as he brushes my hair from my eyes. I want to preen. I want him to bring those hands back and keep touching me but he drops the contact. I don’t know where to look.
“Like I got hit by a truck,” I admit.
Quinn huffs a laugh while my eyes track down to his nipples. They’re very pink. And round. “Do you remember what happened last night?”
“Not really. I just remember sitting on a curb outside and then … you were there …”
“Trey thinks you mixed drinks with some hay fever tablets.”
“Ah, shit,” I sigh. “I remember now. What an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot,” he returns, soft smile on his face.
“Kind of feeling that way right now.”
“Well, the good thing is you’re okay,” he replies. “Trey was worried about your parents seeing you last night. That’s why I brought you home with me.”
More memories trickle through as snippets of conversation filter their way through my foggy mind.
“Uh, I’m sorry,” I say, resting my arm across my eyes. “I’m feeling so stupid right now.”
“Don’t, JT,” Quinn replies, pulling my arm away and leaning over to look at me. “Everything’s fine and you’re okay. And now you know for next time.”
I’m quiet for a few moments, Quinn still watching me while I try to stop my eyes from roving his body. He doesn’t have a lot of chest hair, but he does have an interesting trail of dark hair leading down just past those unbuttoned jeans … I snap my eyes back up to his.
“Did I say anything? Last night?” I ask, tiny little snippets forcing their way back in as embarrassment rains down on me, not aided by Quinn’s crooked smirk.
“Maybe,” he shrugs.
“What? What did I say?”
“Nothing too embarrassing,” he grins. “You might have told me how nice I am about half a dozen times. There might have been something about eyelashes too. I can’t remember.” He’s trying not to laugh and I feel my stomach clench at the thought. Yes, I am admittedly obsessed with his long eyelashes but I can’t believe I actually vocalised it. What else did I say?
“I’m so embarrassed,” I murmur. Quinn plucks my fists from where I have squeezed them into my eyes, and I can’t help but look up at his smirk.
“You shouldn’t be. I liked it,” he says. He holds my eye a weighted minute, amusement on his face, blue eyes sparkling. I feel myself relax. He’s still holding my fists and some weird part of me wants to coil our fingers together. But I don’t. That would be weird. Weirder than it already is with him sitting there half naked and amused.
“I’m glad you were there.”
“Me too.” He drops my hands. “Do you want to sleep for a bit longer? Or would you like a shower?”
“I wouldn’t say no to a shower,” I admit in a small voice.
“Okay.” He rises to his feet and my eyes follow him and that nice body of his as he moves into the bathroom. He comes back out a moment later doing up his jeans button, my eyes tracking his every move. “There’s a fresh towel on the vanity and I’ve left you out a spare toothbrush.”
“Thank you.” I can’t move as I watch him pull on a t-shirt and try not to be disappointed as he spoils the view.
“I’ll leave you to it,” he says, shutting his bedroom door behind him. I sigh and tip my head back on the pillow, relieved to be alone for a minute. I’m still fully hard beneath the covers and I am glad I don’t have to try and conceal it from Quinn. I pull myself out of his beautifully soft bed and move into the bathroom.
It's nice in here and I take a moment to poke around before I shuck my clothes and turn on the water. I’m glad for the personal moment to take care of myself before I am in Quinn’s company again. A part of me feels rude about doing this in Quinn’s shower, knowing he was in here naked only moments ago. But that is a very strong reason as to why I need to do this right now because otherwise I’ll keep picturing it and I’ll be right back to square one.
I know I should feel ashamed for this, for touching myself in Quinn’s shower, for having these feelings and thoughts but I can’t help them. I can’t help how I am feeling about things right now, but I also can’t quite believe there’s anything wrong with it either. How can feelings be wrong?
I just have to let my mind in on the memo which, I have a strong suspicion, is going to be a whole hell of a lot easier said than done.
