She turned the corner and quietly closed the door. In the mirror above the sink, her
reflection showed a well-satisfied woman, albeit an exhausted one. It was getting
late, she still hadn’t eaten a proper meal, and she had to get up early for school.
Steam billowed from the shower, letting her know the water was ready. As she stood
under the spray, she catalogued the food she had in the fridge.
Ryan lay in the bed, every bit as sweaty as Quinn, and debated following her. She
was struggling with something. Maybe the same thing he was—the donor issue. Listening
to his gut, he went to the bathroom and opened the door without knocking. He left
the door ajar to allow the clouds of steam to escape. “Can I come in?”
She froze. Her silhouette behind the frosted glass paused with a shampoo bottle in
hand.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Her voice hesitated, but she stuck her head out
the door with a smile. “I can’t carry you out of here if you drop dead.”
He slid the door all the way open and stepped in. “I promise not to keel over.”
He actually wasn’t looking for a second round. He wanted to be with her. Taking the
shampoo from her hand, he filled his palm and lathered her hair.
Her eyes narrowed at his movements. He massaged her head and allowed the scent to
swirl around him.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m helping you wash.” He tilted her head toward the spray and she closed her eyes.
“I love the feel of your hair.”
The hot water turned her pale skin bright pink. Her body responded to his nearness,
his touch. The water sluiced over her head and down her back. Her lips parted and
she arched forward.
Although he hadn’t joined her with the intention of having sex, his dick had its own
idea about what was happening. She turned slightly and her side flicked against his
bobbing cock. Her eyes sprung open and she grasped him hard.
“You have a death wish, don’t you? I don’t know if your feeble heart can handle more.”
He pushed her against the wall and stroked her. “I’ll make sure I add cardio to my
workout regimen.”
“I’m cold. You’re pushing me out of the water.”
“Here.” He stepped back and spun her around. The water cascaded down the front of
her while he massaged her breasts and tweaked her nipples. The warmth of her body
seeped into his. She cradled his dick against her back.
He stroked her until he felt her warm juices flowing over his hand. She reached up
and around to hold on to his neck. He began to fold her forward, but she resisted.
Moving his hand, he grasped both her hips and brought them to him.
His left hand slid over her back and prodded her shoulders forward. Her hands slapped
the wet tile as she spread her legs, understanding what he wanted. He leaned close
and entered her from behind, his fingers holding her hips firmly. She ground her ass
against him, so close to release.
He folded himself around her. The water beat on his back. His fingers found her hard
clit and flicked it as he pulled out and thrust back in. She reared up, clenching
her walls around him. The sudden movement shocked him. He couldn’t hold out and he
began spurting.
He withdrew from her quickly, not removing his hand from bringing her to another climax.
They both leaned against the cool tile.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” she said.
He backed off and grabbed the bar of soap. They washed each other slowly and enjoyably.
He needed to tell her he started to come inside her. But right now she looked . .
. happy.
Happy was not a word he’d normally use to describe Quinn. Content suited her. At this
moment, hair slicked back, soap running down her body, she smiled openly and warmly.
This was beyond contentment.
She rinsed and stepped out of the shower. She wrapped a towel around herself and plopped
on the closed lid of the toilet. Water rinsed suds from his body and he noticed a
lack of movement in the bathroom.
“You okay?” he asked, sticking his head out.
“I’ll be fine. Just a little light-headed.”
He was going to spout off a joke but stopped when he saw she was pale. He twisted
the water off and squatted in front of her on the fuzzy purple bath mat.
“What’s wrong?”
She smiled weakly. “Too much great sex. Hot water. No food.” She closed her eyes and
leaned back.
“When was the last time you ate?” He knew she ate nothing at the bar tonight.
“I ate a sandwich before going out. And I had a candy bar at school.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t move.”
She lifted her arm and gave him a thumbs-up. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”
He went to the kitchen and poured a glass of orange juice. He brought it to her and
put it to her lips. Her color had already started to return. She drank greedily.
“This happen often?”
“Only when I don’t eat and have wild monkey sex.”
“I’ll be sure to take note. No monkey sex without food.” She stood and he grabbed
her elbow, wanting to make sure she was steady.
“I’m fine.” She jerked her arm back. “Let’s go find something to eat.”
She pulled an oversized T-shirt from her dresser and put it on. Her hair dripped on
the gray cotton covering her shoulders. He looked around and realized he didn’t have
anything comfortable to wear. He pulled on his underwear and followed Quinn.
In the kitchen, she was pouring two bowls of Lucky Charms cereal. “That looks nutritious.”
She glared at him. “It’s my favorite childhood cereal. It’s not like I eat it every
day. Besides, I can’t eat anything heavy. I have to go to sleep since I’m working
tomorrow.”
He accepted the bowl she placed in front of him. “Why are you going into work?”
“I told that teacher who’s having trouble that I’d help her.” She used the back of
her spoon to push the cereal into the milk.
“That’s nice of you.”
She shrugged. “I feel guilty for not teaching this summer.”
“Why?” He took a bite of the cereal and the crispy marshmallows melted on his tongue.
“I got a letter from a student who was in my class this year. She’s in summer school
and not doing well, at least not as well as she did with me.”
“How is it your fault?”
Quinn chewed and shook her head. “It’s actually a nice letter. She doesn’t blame me.
She passed my class but had failed the previous year. She wanted to tell me she enjoyed
my class and she wishes more teachers were like me.”
“You have a regular fan club going on.”
“Not usually.”
They finished their cereal in silence, rinsed their bowls, and left them in the sink.
Quinn stilled and looked at him. “I’m ready for sleep.”
It was neither an invitation nor expectation.
“Tossing me out?”
A slight blush pinked her cheeks. “No, I just . . . I didn’t want you to think . .
.” She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes.
“I’m teasing, Quinn.”
She released the breath. “I told you I’m no good at this.”
He stepped closer and touched her warm cheek. “I want to stay.”
“I’d like that.”
He interlaced his fingers with hers and pulled her toward the stairs. When they entered
the bedroom, the smell of sweat and sex accosted them. Her nose crinkled.
“Would you be offended if I changed the sheets before we went to bed?”
“No.”
“Good. Do me a favor and yank those off. I’ll get fresh ones.”
He stripped the bed wondering what she would’ve done if he had been offended. The
yellow cotton was pretty ripe. She must not have changed them after their Monday afternoon
romp. He balled them up but couldn’t find a laundry basket.
Quinn returned carrying a pile of light purple sheets. “Sorry. It’s been kind of a
crazy day and I didn’t get around to changing the sheets. I normally don’t have guests
make the bed.”
“Have guests often?”
“No,” she said sharply, eyebrows drawn together. She shook out the fitted sheet. “I—”
Her eyes met his. She was so much fun to rattle. He didn’t know how she survived teenagers
all day.
“Why do you keep doing that to me?”
“It’s fun.” He grabbed the corner of the sheet and tucked it around the mattress.
“You’re funny when you’re flustered.”
“I’m not flustered.”
He raised an eyebrow to call her a liar.
“Okay, maybe a little nervous.”
They stuffed pillows into cases and arranged the bed. Quinn switched off the light
and crawled in.
He waited to see where she would lay and took the spot next to her. He laid on his
right side and wrapped his left arm over her waist.
“No reason to be nervous. It’s sleep. Good night, Quinn.” He kissed her cheek and
her eyes closed.
It was early for him to turn in, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. He tucked Quinn into
his body. She had come to him tonight after having her pick of men, including Colin.
CHAPTER 17
T
he alarm buzzed. Quinn swung her arm at it.
Ten minutes. I need ten more minutes.
She turned over to doze and felt the empty bed beside her.
He left?
The pain stabbed her chest. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but it felt like Nick
all over again. Sleep was lost.
She got to the top of the stairs and smelled coffee. Huh? She tried not to trip as
she hurried down. Her heart thumped against her ribs when she reached the floor.
Ryan stood at the stove with his bare back to her, wearing only the underwear he’d
slept in. He looked over his shoulder and smiled.
Trying to cover the shock of finding him in her kitchen, she returned the smile.
“Something wrong?”
“No.” Her puzzlement took over. “What are you doing?”
“Making breakfast. Coffee’s ready.” With a black spatula, he pointed at the nearly
full pot.
“Thanks. I usually just grab a cup of coffee.” She took down her favorite mug and
filled it, generously adding milk and sugar.
“But you hardly ate yesterday and almost passed out. You need real food.”
He had a point. “In my defense, I don’t do that often. I’m not typically woozy.”
She pulled two plates from the cabinet and set them next to the stove. She peered
into the pan, expecting scrambled eggs. He was making omelets and they smelled delicious.
She sat on a stool and sipped her coffee. He unceremoniously plopped the omelets onto
the plates and brought them to the counter. The first bite reminded her how truly
hungry she was. The smell and explosion of flavors made her mouth water. “Who taught
you to cook?”
“My mom refused to let any of us grow up like Dad. He couldn’t cook anything.”
She broke off another piece. “This is great.”
“Did you think I lived on McDonald’s?”
“Not McDonald’s, but a lot of takeout, yeah. The only guy I know who cooks is Brian.”
“The gay guy?”
She choked on her coffee. “Why do guys do that?”
“What?” His plate was nearly empty, showing he was at least as hungry as she had been.
“Being gay doesn’t make it part of his name.”
“I wanted to make sure I knew who you were talking about.”
“Uh-huh.” She glanced at the clock. She’d have barely enough time to shower and get
to school.
As if he’d read her mind, Ryan said, “Go get ready. I’ll do the dishes.”
“That’s not fair. You cooked. Leave them in the sink and I’ll do them later.”
“I got ’em. You can owe me.” He stood, grabbed both plates, and kissed the top of
her head.
Quinn took her coffee with her into the bathroom. After taking care of business, she
saw her period had started.
It shouldn’t be here yet. Did I miscount?
During her quick shower, she replayed her evening. Ryan had definitely made up for
the disastrous speed dating.
When she went back to the bedroom to dress, Ryan was there, sitting on the edge of
the bed. He’d pulled on his jeans, but not his shirt. His hair was messier than usual.
She wore only the towel she’d wrapped around herself in the bathroom. Modesty claimed
her again and she held the edges tightly closed.
“You got a minute?” His voice sounded different, uneven.
“Sure.” She sat next to him on the bed, hoping the towel would stay closed.
He took a deep breath and blew it out. God, he was going to try to let her down easy.
“About last night,” he started.
She swallowed hard and tugged the towel closer. What had she been thinking?
“In the shower,” he continued.
Huh? This isn’t how the speech goes
. She lifted her eyes to meet his. Worry clouded the blue irises. She touched her
palm to his cheek. “What?”
The words rushed without pause. “I started to come inside you. I didn’t mean to and
I pulled out. Hell, I didn’t think we’d have sex in the shower. I’m sorry.”
She laughed with relief. He was a babbling idiot and she loved it. She leaned over
and hugged him. “It’s okay. Neither one of us was thinking straight. I got my period
this morning, so I think it’s safe to say you’re not a father.”
He pulled her into a kiss and made her forget her towel. It slipped from her hands.
Ryan pulled back and gathered the towel around her again. “You better leave that on
or you won’t make it to work.”
She held the towel at her breasts and felt herself blush under the look he gave her.
He still wanted her. There wasn’t an “I like you, but . . .” speech coming.
He picked up his shirt and shoes from the floor. She stood to get dressed. Before
he left, he turned and said quietly, “I wanted you to know I’m disease-free. I wasn’t
worried about you getting pregnant.”
She stood stunned for a moment. What the hell did that mean?
Running behind schedule now, she hurriedly dressed. She didn’t hear the door clunk
with Ryan’s departure, so she thought he might still be downstairs. She dumped the
remnants of her coffee in the sink, where he stood rinsing the last dish. He put it
in the rack to dry.
“How late are you?”
She looked at the clock. “Not very. Thanks for breakfast and doing the dishes.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll expect payback.” He leaned down and kissed her briefly. “I’ll walk
you out.”
He made things easy. She wasn’t in the habit of leaving her door unlocked, but she
didn’t want to offer him a key and scare him off. Not much rattled him, though. He
kissed her again at her car before heading to his own.
The sun was bright and the air heavy with humidity. It was the kind of day that made
her want to do a rain dance. Sitting in the driver’s seat, her shirt already clung
to her back. This was one thing she didn’t miss about teaching summer school.
Quinn arrived at school after the first bell had rung. Although she wasn’t officially
on the clock, the familiar burn of fear bubbled in her stomach. She hated being late.
She took a deep breath to ease her anxiety. This wasn’t a big deal. She was doing
a favor. She could show up whenever she wanted as long as she documented her time
for Mr. Carlson.
Feeling better, she strode into the building and stopped in the teacher’s lounge to
grab a bottle of water. She tapped on the office window and waved to Louise to let
them know she was there.
The heat inside the building was as miserable as outside. No sun beat down, but the
air was stagnant. Inside the classroom, she took a seat at a table in the back of
the room. A few kids took notice of her entrance and waved fingers in polite greeting.
Most remained focused on Shari in the front of the room.
They were reading
Romeo and Juliet,
predictable ninth-grade fare. Quinn studied the students in the room. Since she was
staring at the backs of their heads, it was difficult to pick out anyone she knew.
Except Tamika. She easily spotted the girl’s magenta hair.
Shari reviewed the previous day’s material with little involvement from the kids.
Quinn had come prepared to take notes and offer advice after class, but she didn’t
even know where to start. Thirty minutes in, she was as bored and sleepy as the students,
and they hadn’t even cracked open the book.
Quinn struggled to both stay awake and in her seat. She wanted to stand and take over,
but it wouldn’t help Shari. They’d only read the first act of the play and the kids
didn’t get it. Quinn edged closer to the front of the room to see the students’ faces.
Many played with bottles of water dripping condensation onto the scarred desks.
Did Shari think they would read Shakespeare for homework and understand it?
Shari tried to extract a summary from them. She got nothing but blank stares. She
turned pleading eyes to Quinn.
Quinn stood and walked to the front of the room. Her sudden movement caught the attention
of the class.
“Class, this is Ms. Adams. Some of you might already know her. She’s also a teacher
here at Jones and she’s here to help out.” Shari gave her introduction and hurried
back to her desk.
“Okay. First, forget anything you read last night. We’re going to start over. I want
everyone to close your eyes for a minute.” She waited through the snickers and muffled
comments.
When most had followed the direction, she continued, “Girls only. Imagine this. Your
neighborhood school closed. Jones becomes your new school. In your first week, you
see a guy in the hall. He’s cute. He smiles at you and offers to help you find your
class. On the way, you talk. You like him.”
At this point the boys were getting restless. “Okay, guys. Your turn. You’re standing
in the hall when this beautiful girl walks in. You check her out. She smiles at you
and you immediately think, ‘Hmmm-mmm. I’m gonna get me some of that.’ ”
Instant reaction. The boys burst into laughter. From the back, a girl commented, “Oh
no, she didn’t.”
Quinn waited. They were awake and engaged. “I’ve been teaching high school for a long
time. I know the first thing on a teenage boy’s mind.”
She began to walk down the aisles between the desks. “So you have this new and fabulous
thing going on. You really like each other. This boy, this girl, they’re different.
But then . . .”
The room dropped into silence. “Imagine this girl is with the Latin Kings and the
boy . . . you guessed it. He’s from a long line of Disciples.”
“Ah, hell no.”
“No way.”
“Couldn’t happen.”
Quinn stopped, turned in a circle. “We all know what happens beyond these walls. But
in here, without flashing your signs, without your colors, you’re just a boy and a
girl. You love each other, but your families will never accept this.”
“Well, I’d be done with that ho.”
“If it’s easy, then you didn’t really love her.” She had them. They were thinking.
This was the moment she loved. “The question is, what are you going to do to save
this relationship?”
Eyes narrowed at her and arms crossed chests. She continued, “This is the real thing.
No one has ever loved you like this. No one has ever accepted you for who you are
until now.”
Some shifted uncomfortably. Quinn knew a fantasy was as close to love as some would
feel. “Everyone take out a sheet of paper. Write a letter to the one person in your
family—blood or otherwise—you trust. Try to convince that person you should be able
to keep this newfound love. You have thirty minutes to write.”
Some kids grumbled. Most didn’t like to write, but they did it.
The late-afternoon sun glared through the windows when they finally called it a day.
Shari had plenty to work on. Quinn drew the line at taking papers or lesson plans
home. She sat in the stifling heat trapped in the car and started the engine. It had
been a great day and she felt fabulous. She hadn’t felt this energized in forever.
Days like this made her love her job.
She drove without a plan. She wanted to see Ryan, but she didn’t want to seem clingy.
She wanted to ride the high of her good mood. The list needed attention. She had research
to do on the expensive restaurants Griffin had told her about, and she needed to find
a karaoke night.
Only a month remained before she was supposed to go to New Orleans. She needed to
plan that as well. All of a sudden her summer off had shrunk. How did it blip by so
quickly?