Giving him a strained smile, I try not to cringe at the nickname. “Yeah, I sure do.”
Unfastening his seat belt, he turns to me, raising his pierced brow. “You never asked why I called you that. Weren’t you ever curious why?”
Not really, no. Justin’s nickname for me was the least of my concerns, but I play along.
“Sure, I was,” I lamely say. “I was just…”
“Too busy for a geek like me?” he offers with a smile.
That’s so far from the truth, but I see no point in correcting him as this is just trivial, nostalgic bullshit.
“Well, just in case you’re curious now, I called you that because you were as quiet and as small as a mouse, but you had the whole school terrified of you. You could get a classroom full of jocks and cheerleaders running in the opposite direction with your presence alone.”
“Thanks…I think.” I chuckle, as the nickname is kind of cute, in a creepy, rodent kind of way.
“Anytime, my little mouse.” Justin smirks, placing his hand on my knee, which is poking through a hole in my jeans.
My face heats as Quinn listens to our conversation, no doubt ready to explode.
“How about you fu—” Quinn snarls, but I don’t allow him to finish as I subtly remove my knee and unbuckle my seat belt, as it’s suffocating me.
“Food. How about Quinn and I find some food, and you check us in?”
Justin smirks, and I know we have about three seconds to exit the truck before Quinn checks Justin into a hospital.
“Great idea. Bring me back something juicy.” Justin eyes me but thankfully exits the car without another word.
The truck’s walls are closing in on me, and I too jump out, desperate for some fresh air. The door slams shut, and I tell myself to woman up and face the inevitable.
Risking a glance at Quinn, who looks like he’s about to break anything in sight with the way his fists are clenching by his sides, I say lightheartedly, “C’mon, sugar, lead the way.”
Quinn breaks his evil stare-off with Justin, and all I get is a grunt in response.
“Hey, why does he get a nickname? Where’s mine?” Justin says, stalling from unloading the bags from the tray.
I take a deep breath, hoping this comment doesn’t bite me in the ass, and I reply, “That’s because he’s my boy…”
I want to say boyfriend, but after everything we’ve been through, Quinn is much more to me than that.
I watch Justin’s face drop, as this is the first time I have really clarified what Quinn is to me. I don’t feel comfortable labeling it, but I need to clarify that Quinn and I are more than just friends.
However, I instantly feel horrible as Justin nods and clears his throat before saying, “I’ll just go and check us in.” And he walks off, unable to get away from me fast enough.
I close my eyes and sigh, feeling beyond awful for saying something that obviously upset Justin, especially when he’s helping us out. Rethinking my ingenious decision, I feel Quinn wrap his arms around my middle, his front pressing to my back.
“I’m your boy, hey?” he whispers, his warm breath tickling my earlobe.
At least he’s talking to me now.
I nod in response, leaning back into his embrace as I missed his warmth during the car ride over here.
“I would have preferred man or handsome fucker, but boy will do,” he says comically, biting my neck softly.
The mewl that passes through my lips is involuntary, and Quinn chuckles his confident laugh, knowing I’m melting under his touch. Before I know what is happening as my eyes are still shut, Quinn presses me against the passenger door, his hard contours molding to my back.
“Red, I meant what I said,” he says, his arms tightening around my middle while he kisses under my jaw.
Interlacing my fingers through his and leaning my head back, allowing him better access to the needy flesh of my neck, I whisper, barely audibly, “What did you say?”