Lost the Handle (Nashville Assassins: Next Generation #8)

Chapter 18

Chapter

Eighteen

Emery

When a knock sounds at my door, I look over my shoulder to see Quinn peek his head in. His gaze collides with mine, and my heart trips over itself. I sit up and adjust my shirt since it’s riding up.

When I look back at him, I don’t miss the way his jaw tightens. “Hey.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat. My voice is scratchy. “Hey.”

“How you feeling?” he asks, coming inside and leaning against the dresser that’s by the door. He’s in his athletic gear, still sweaty from his workout, and I can just imagine how hot his body is now that he’s older and probably has so much more knowledge about fitness. His biceps bulge and his thighs flex as he leans, crossing his arms over his wide chest, looking way more like he belongs on the ice instead of in a surgery center.

Though, in my opinion, he belongs next to me, with snacks all around us as we write code.

But that will never be.

Maybe in another reality.

I can only hope.

I force a chuckle to keep the tears at bay. “Hungover.”

He nods slowly. “You were out of it and puked everywhere before I got there.”

“Yeah. I remember.”

Something flashes in his eyes. “Do you remember when we got back home?”

I wish he really meant this was my home, but it’s just a default word for him. “Pieces, but not a lot.”

“I had to shower you, but I was as respectful as I could be when you were basically dead in my arms.”

I laugh with no humor whatsoever. “I’m learning that’s who you are now, very respectful.”

His jaw ticks, and I swear I see desire in his blue depths as he mutters, “Hardly.”

“No?”

He shakes his head, pushing off the dresser and stopping in front of the bed. I can see he’s struggling with something, but I have no clue what it could be. “Is everything okay?” I find myself asking, and I slowly rise to my knees. I ignore the pounding behind my eyes and look up at him. His eyes roam over my torso before meeting my gaze. The veins in his neck are bulging, and his eyes look wary as he stares down at me. I know this isn’t the time for it, but my pussy clenches at the powerful sight of him. He towers over my bed, looking like he wants to take me, but that can’t be.

“Did something happen?” I ask.

Why do I sound hopeful? Dial it back, girl.

He shakes his head again. “No.” His one word hits me in the gut. “I wouldn’t let that happen.”

He says it like letting something happen would have been the most disgusting thing in the world. So, I snap. “Sorry you had to endure me.”

He runs his tongue along his lips. “I survived.”

“Yay,” I say dryly. I know I don’t remember, but couldn’t he be a bad guy and take me before professing his love and then dumping Ava?

No? Too much to ask? Fine.

His eyes narrow, and I sense he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. Instead, he changes the subject. “My mom said you were coming to dinner tomorrow.”

I bring in my brows. “Yeah?”

“Ava will be there.” I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know how to react, so I just stare at him. His eyes search mine, and for some reason, I think I see pain in his gaze. Pain about what, though?

“Are you asking me not to go?”

“No, I wouldn’t do that,” he says quickly, shaking his head. “I don’t want to argue with you anymore. Last night was a lot, and I don’t want a repeat. Particularly in front of our families and Ava.”

I nod in understanding. When we fight, it’s a war, and I know that. It doesn’t help that we’re both passionate people, especially when it comes to each other. We’re the youngest of our families—we have big feelings.

And fuck if I don’t feel some damn big things for him.

I don’t love you.

Oh, but Quinn Phillips, I love you.

I have to go about this a different way. Mom always said you attract more flies with honey, and I’m about to be sticky sweet for him. Maybe I came on too strong before, when really, I thought I was reining it in pretty well. Maybe I need to be sweeter and not so aggressive? I don’t know. I’d rather just be my delightful self and get what I want.

But instead, I promise, “I won’t step a foot out of line in front of your dear Ava.”

He narrows his eyes. “Don’t do that.”

I can feel my brows almost touch. “Do what?”

“Be someone you’re not.”

I hold his gaze. God, I love him. Needing to cut the tension, I ask, “So, you want me to hate on her and rub myself all over you to get my scent on you, so she’ll realize who you belong to?”

He lets his head fall back, and I drift my eyes down his body to where his gray sweat shorts don’t hide the thickness of his cock. Jesus…to touch him. To taste him. I swallow hard as he looks back at me. “Do you not remember our conversation in the stairwell?”

I stare at him. “No, I remember it just fine.”

“And?”

“And nothing,” I say with way more strength than I feel.

He opens his mouth and then shuts it before he looks down at his feet. My heart hammers in my chest, unsure where this is going. He takes in a deep breath, letting it out before he lifts his eyes to meet mine. “I think a lot of things went unsaid last night, and I would like to sit down and talk it out with you at your earliest convenience.”

I raise a brow. “Do I need to schedule an appointment, Dr. Adler?”

Once more, he glares at me. “No, but I think we need to have a sit-down. Not today, not tomorrow, but sometime soon.”

We stare at each other, tension sizzling around us. “Why? Didn’t you say all you had to say?”

He shakes his head. “I haven’t even begun.”

Chills run down my spine as I gaze up at him, digging my fingertips into my thighs. He reaches out, and I watch as his hand stops only inches from my face. His eyes burn into mine, almost like he’s memorizing every plane of my face. I watch his Adam’s apple bob before he tucks my stray curl behind my ear. His fingers dance along my jaw, and I take a sharp breath as I gaze up at him.

His voice is low, gravelly as he bites out, “That’s my shirt.”

I can only nod, but then I somehow get out, “Mine now.”

His lips quirk at the side, and I love that damned lazy grin. My own lips curve and his eyes darken, his jaw going tight. “Just as that’s my name on your thigh, huh?”

I feel like I’m being electrocuted as his eyes roam down my body to where my thighs are pressed tightly together. If he thought that comment would shut me up, he must have forgotten who I am. As much as I want to sound like a sultry kitten, I sound like a drowning cat as I croak out, “I thought you were the perfect gentleman when you were showering me?”

His eyes snap to mine, his fingers dancing along my jaw. “My hands were, but my eyes weren’t.”

I part my lips, and his gaze burns my body to ash. He’s the only one who can do that to me. Set me on fire so badly, I would beg to burn in his flames. He exhales a shaky breath before he pulls at my bottom lip with his thumb. “That tattoo will be on our agenda.”

“I look forward to our meeting, Dr. Adler.”

Quinn licks his lips, his eyes wild and blown out as they stay set on me. I can’t help but get the feeling he wants to kiss me, but when I rise up farther on my knees, he steps back, shaking his head.

“Behave,” he grinds out, but I don’t believe him. I lean my head to the side, eyeing him through my lashes.

Finally sounding like a sex kitten, I ask, “Do you really want me to?”

His chest rises and falls as his eyes continue to bore into mine. I almost think he’s going to ask me to do anything but behave, but then, without warning, he turns and leaves my room like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

I fall back on my haunches, a grin pulling at my lips.

Hmm… His actions speak way louder than his words.