Page 60 of Enemy Crush
But I hated that it felt so right.
Chapter 20
MILLER
For some reason, I thrived in emergency situations, staying calm and level-headed in the face of adversity. I’d had plenty of experience with Mason’s asthma attacks, a clear head needed when seeing my brother gasping for air. Granted, in Quinn’s situation, it was hardly life and death, but it triggered a burst of adrenaline all the same.
I got Quinn to sit down on the back of the truck and then I let Clarissa know what had happened. I grabbed my water bottle from my backpack in the front seat and took it to her.
“It’s not real cold,” I said, “but you should drink it. I’ll be back in a minute. You’ll be okay?”
I was buzzing like I was hyper on energy drinks. I’d never seen anyone faint before, much less fall into my arms, but someone in gym class had once. The teacher had told the girl to sit down and given her a drink of water. Strange how the vaguest memories resurface when needed and I drew on that expertize.
A million things ran through my brain. I’d get Quinn a cold drink and some food, something sweet to boost her sugar levels. She was probably running on empty, and there was nothing to her as it was. I mean, I’d noticed over the last few weeks that she’d become thinner, confirmed by the fact that she was as light as a feather in my arms.
Yeah, in my arms. Of all the scenarios I could have dreamed of, holding Quinn Devereaux rated about as likely as me riding a Ducati Monster. And yeah, I had liked it. More than liked it. Butthere was no time to dwell on it with the whole disclosure of the Devereaux fortune being in jeopardy rocking me, if her friend was to be believed.
It blew my mind to hear that the Devereauxs were in financial strife, with the high and mighty Annabelle selling off designer bags online to keep the family afloat. And strangely, though getting her comeuppance should have given me a reason to be smug, I found no joy in it. There was only a sick feeling that somehow things had all gone wrong for Quinn, especially with her friend accusing her of lying, of not trusting her.
But that wasn’t the only thing that had me reeling. No, my heart was still jumping all over the place because Quinn had said she liked me. She didn’t hate me as I’d suspected. No, shelikedme. Okay, so she’d said it right before fainting, which might have meant she was on the brink of delirium, but her words stuck in my head like glue:Actually, I do like you. It’s just that you’re the enemy.
It allowed me the tiniest sliver of hope. Of what, I wasn’t sure. But hope...that my crush wasn’t unrequited, that I wasn’t totally out of her league...
Typically, when you’re in a rush, people always dawdle. I bumped into a couple walking dreamily hand-in-hand, got stuck behind a woman with a stroller and had to go around a bunch of ladies gossiping in the middle of the market. I bypassed Bree’s Brews—would never buy from her again—and looked around for another stall. I stopped at Frieda’s Fresh Fruit, stressing over what to buy. I ordered a berry smoothie, but then doubted myself and asked for a freshly squeezed orange juice as well. And then I remembered that she needed something more substantial and bought both an apple and a blueberry tart because I didn’t know which she’d prefer. And crazily, I didn’t even consider the prices. For someone who would usually walk several blocks toget a cheaper deal on a can of soda or an energy drink, I willingly spent my hard-earned cash on Quinn without question.
When I arrived back, Quinn was sitting in the exact same spot, but she’d taken off her cap and the white jacket she’d been wearing. She was fanning herself with her hand and I noticed how bony her shoulders were.
“Hey,” I said, rushing up with the supplies she so desperately needed. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah, thanks,” she said, the water bottle almost empty.
“You need to eat,” I said, opening the box of tarts for her. In hindsight, I figured I should have bought her a slice of pizza. “And drink. Not sure if you’d want a smoothie or juice. So I got both.”
“Uh...the juice looks good,” she said hesitantly.
I passed it to her, watching over her like a hawk as she sipped on the straw.
“Oh that’s good,” she said after one mouthful.
I perched myself up on the truck bed beside her. “More,” I directed. “Drink it all. So, have you ever fainted before?” She shook her head, still sucking on the straw. “And you didn’t eat breakfast?”
She kept shaking her head, but paused from her drink. “So, Mason was right about you being bossy,” she stated.
I blinked. “Huh? Me? Bossy? That little toad!”
Quinn smiled. “He says you’re always telling him what to do.”
I pouted. “I wouldn’t say always. And half the time he doesn’t listen anyway. He’s always got his nose in a book.”
A giggle escaped Quinn’s lips, her eyes brightening. “It’s nice that you look out for him.”
“He’s my brother,” I said with a shrug.
“Thanks for standing up to my friends.” She cast me a sideways glance and mumbled, “Or my ex-friends.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I said, watching as she twirled the straw in the cup.
“I...I couldn’t go against Mom, she’s been desperate to hide—”
