Page 8 of Fast Break
“Could we, like, maybe run some kind of experiment with this?” I mull, thinking through our options. “Isn’t there a biology aquaculture program at Evergreen that could lend us some algae and we could maybe, I don’t know, try and convert it into fuel?”
Quinn sits back in his seat, a slightly impressed expression on his face if I’m reading him right. “That’s actually a really great idea, JT.” My face flushes with pride.
We spend the next thirty minutes hashing out our plans. I’m so focused I don’t even notice the sound of the front door or the quiet footsteps ascending the stairs.
“Oh hello,” we hear from the doorway, both of us looking up in surprise. “I didn’t know you had company.”
“Hi, Mum. This is JT,” Quinn introduces, leaning back in his chair. Quinn’s mum is young, and her light brown hair is pulled into a messy bun. She’s wearing bright blue scrubs and rubber soled shoes which makes me think she’s a nurse. I remember Quinn saying she works shifts so this makes sense.
“Hello, Mrs Dayton,” I say, sending her a smile as she glances across at me, head cocked to the side.
“Oh please, Mrs Dayton is my mother. You can call me Amy,” she replies, a pleasant smile on her face that immediately sets me at ease.
“Okay,” I return.
She smiles at her son, obvious affection in her gaze before she turns to leave us alone but not before making an obvious point of opening the door wide.
“Doors open, Quinn,” she says.
“We’re not having sex, Mum,” Quinn says with an eyeroll that shouldn’t be sexy. “We’re working on a class science project.”
“You know the rules,” she just says, a smile on her face as she backs out of the room. But my mind has just caught up with their exchange of words and I feel my face involuntarily flush as heat shoots through me.
“Why would she think we’re having sex?” I choke out.
Quinn just shrugs, the movement casual yet sensual. “Well, in her defence it has happened before,” he says, moving his attention back to the laptop and picking straight up where we left off.
But not me. No, my mind has plunged straight to the gutter as those itchy little ants start to dance in my bloodstream and I can no longer concentrate. Quinn is talking about algae but here I am, just me, imagining him in this very room with another guy, probably on that nice blue bed behind us and it’s all I can focus on.
Quinn must realise my mind has gone missing because he eventually asks if I want to call it a day. I agree because I know I will be completely useless for any type of progress with where my mind is currently residing.
I have a strong feeling it will be there for a while to come.
CHAPTER 4
quinn
Later that evening, I drive home after dropping JT off at his house. It’s less than ten minutes from mine so giving him a ride is no trouble at all, despite his half-hearted protests while he tried, and failed, to get his parents to answer his many calls for a lift.
He’s so adorable. Honestly, the whole afternoon with him was just so much more enjoyable than I was expecting. JT doesn’t think he’s smart, but he had some great input into our project and his idea to run our own experiment is the kind of thing that will push our grade right to the top.
I’m also not complaining that he’s a dead set piece of eye candy with a body to murder for. I like the fact he doesn’t seem to be aware of how hot he is, just how sexy and engaging. He’s nothing like I expected based on his loud, extroverted cousin and the group of friends he hangs with. He’s a little shy even, takes a bit of time to coax out of his shell.
I’m almost certain he’s straight but I’m also acutely aware of the times his cheeks stained pink when we touched. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like that too. I tested him a couple of times, holding onto his coffee cup a little longer than necessary, bumping our knees together under the desk and lingering. He didn’t move away though so there was that.
Still, cute as he is, I’m not wasting my time pursuing a straight guy. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt and the lifelong scars to prove it.
Mum has dinner almost ready by the time I pull up at the house. I also know exactly what to expect from her as I wander into the living room and dump my keys. She’s busy in the kitchen and I watch as she finishes off the tikka masala she’s cooking.
“He seems nice,” she hums, back to me as she stirs a pot.
“He is nice,” I agree. She turns and leans back against the cabinet, eyeing me speculatively.
“You like him,” she says, making a very big leap from science project buddy to something else rather quickly.
I just shrug, no point denying it really. “He’s straight.”
“That’s what they all say,” she singsongs before turning back to the stove. I snort a laugh because that’s something Mum always says. She just can’t imagine any boy not falling madly head over heels for her son. I love that I have her in my corner.
