About Last Night (About Last Night #1)(56)

Crap.

Piles upon piles of flaming crap.




Quinn walked to his car and I let him stay ahead of me.

I needed to explain why I’d done what I did. He was clearly pissed about it, and I don’t blame him. I had no right to put him in the position I had.

I just hoped he would understand.

He had to understand.

Raising his hand, he clicked a button on his keys and an older silver sedan unlocked. He opened the door for me, and as soon as I sat, he closed the door behind me. I buckled up and waited for him to do the same. As soon as he started the car, I spoke, “Quinn, I—”

But he raised his hand, demanding silence, and so I shut my trap.

We drove on, and at every red light, he stopped to look at me, the same motions every time. He’d stop, turn, look me up and down, sigh, shake his head, and then commence driving. At least he no longer looked angry. Now he just looked tired.

“I’m sorry, Quinn.”

Jaw tight, he uttered, “I’m not ready to talk about this right now.”

I nodded, wringing my hands together. “Okay.” So he would talk to me eventually. That was a good sign. “Okay.”

My body jerked as he exploded, “Jesus, Maya! Mia! Whatever the hell your name is!” He slammed his balled fist on the steering wheel and boomed, “What the f*ck were you thinking?”

Heart racing, I tried to explain, “I—”

But he cut me off, yelling, “You knew me! You knew me! You knew I was a friend of Harry’s.” He groaned. “What a mess. What a mess.”

I grimaced, “I know. I’ll fix it—”

He roared, “Your mess! I didn’t know, dammit!” He turned to glare at me, whispering in dead calm, “And you knew I didn’t know.” I couldn’t believe he was still driving, and in a decent manner, when he reached up to run a hand down his face. He bellowed, “And then you’re at the pier…with your brother! And I didn’t know! And then I saw you. And you were licking up that damn ice cream.” Panting, he eyed me a moment before barking an irritated, “Your dress is pretty.”

I turned my head and bit my lip to hide my smile. He was losing his mind. And it was funny. I’d always been that person to laugh at the most inappropriate time—weddings, funerals, at the gynecologist.

His voice was grating. “You better not be laughing, Mia. This is not funny.”

I turned to face him, sucking my lips completely into my mouth, because it was the only way to stop myself from laughing. I shook my head, but I was sure my eyes were filled with mirth.

He looked at me. Then to the road. Back to me. Again to the road. Then he huffed out an exasperated, “You’re a shitty liar.”

A sorry chuckle escaped me. “I know. I’m an *. I’m sorry, Quinn. Please let me explain.”

The car slowed then came to a stop. I looked out the window. “This isn’t where I live.”

He opened the car door. “I know. This is where I live.”

The car door slammed shut and I knew I had no other options. I had to explain myself regardless of how stupid it sounded, regardless of how much I let my insecurities show. I would put myself on display for Quinn, because he deserved to know why.

“Come in,” Quinn grunted as he opened the apartment door. “Shut it behind you.”

I stepped inside, closed the door, and took in my surroundings. Wow. This was a nice place. I could never afford a place like this. There was an open living area with a joined kitchen, a hall down one end, which I was sure led to the bedroom—possible bedrooms—and an open door revealing a gleaming bathroom. I turned to see two other doors, which I wanted to explore, but that would be inappropriate…wouldn’t it?

Yes. I was sure it would.

It was a tidy apartment, but I could see it was a man’s apartment. The sofas were black soft leather, the giant TV was mounted on the wall, the cabinets were also black, and the kitchen had six boxes of cereal on the counter. It definitely screamed ‘a man lives here.’

Quinn went to the fridge and brought over two bottles of water. Handing me one, he sat on the sofa and ordered, “Sit.”

I bunched my nose. I wasn’t a damn dog to be ordered about. But, of course, I sat anyway.

“Explain.”

Oh, wow, I wasn’t sure I liked this Quinn. Rolling the bottle of water back and forth in my hand, I sighed. “I was going to tell you. I swear I was. But I wanted to do it when I was ready.” I huffed out an annoyed, “But then Harry had to go and open his big mouth.”

“Mia,” Quinn growled in warning.

I raised both of my hands, placating. “Okay.” I stood and began to pace. “It’s true. I was counting on you not remembering me.” I looked to him for some form of reaction, but got none. I went on, “I wasn’t lying to you. Whenever we spoke, I always told you the truth.” I shrugged. “Sure, I omitted small details, but I always told the truth.” My eyes pleading for him to believe me, I added, “You know more about me than most.”

Quinn leaned back on the sofa, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Please, get to the part where you hired me to have sex with you.”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “Two Christmases ago, I came home from school. Harry was in bad shape as soon as he came from work, and he just kept drinking from there. I’d lost a little weight by then, and Harry was supportive as per usual. But, of course, Mom tried to feed me everything in sight and—”