Playboy For Hire

7. Ryder

7

RYDER

“ W hat’s up with you tonight?”

I looked up from my beer—an ESB, since I didn’t want to get too tipsy—and frowned at Tessa.

“What?”

She poked my arm with her index finger. “You’ve been quiet all night. It’s not like you.”

She was right, but I didn’t want to talk about it.

Tessa was a regular client of mine, and every Thursday night, we met up with her coworkers at trivia night at Bart’s Basement. Most of them were guys, all of them were Hill staffers, and Tessa joined in to keep up with gossip and networking. For the past seven months, I’d been posing as her boyfriend—ever since she realized that ‘ having a boyfriend ’ meant her male coworkers would stop trying to sleep with her and treat her as a friend instead.

I was wearing an untucked button-up shirt over khakis tonight, sleeves rolled up. Business casual with easy-going-boyfriend mixed in. I actually liked her coworkers—some of them had even become sort-of friends of mine as well. The story was that I worked for an agricultural lobbying firm, but I was mostly recycling knowledge I’d picked up from helping my parents on their farm growing up.

To be honest, I hardly thought of Tessa as a client anymore. We’d gotten to know each other well enough at this point that she’d become a regular friend. And usually, I liked trivia night. I was great at pop culture, sports, and all kinds of random facts that were useless in any other context. But tonight, I couldn’t get Quinn out of my head.

“Sorry,” I told Tessa apologetically. “Just thinking about a work thing.”

Her eyebrows rose, and she darted a quick look over her shoulder at the rest of the team. They were clustered around Martin, the designated writer, staring at stills from popular eighties movies.

“A work thing?” she repeated, lowering her voice so it didn’t carry over the din of the bar. “Anything I need to worry about? You gonna start charging double or something?”

I gave her a discount because I saw her so often. The money still added up, though.

“No, nothing about you. Honestly, it’s not even a work thing. Technically. It’s just—” I broke off. It wasn’t just hard to explain it all to another person. It was embarrassing, too. “Forget it. It’s all good.”

“Good,” she said firmly. “Because usually you’d be all over this category, and I think the brain trust over there could use some help.”

I looked at the group at the far end of the table. Martin looked up, but not at me. His eyes went right to Tessa, and the longer he looked at her, the more I felt like I was watching something I shouldn’t.

Finally, his eyes darted over to me. When he met my gaze, he blinked, and his cheeks filled with a rosy flush, like I’d caught him doing something nefarious. He looked back down at the paper with the movie pictures.

“What was all that about?” I asked Tessa.

“Hmm?” She didn’t appear to have noticed.

“Martin over there.” I nodded in his direction. “That’s the second time I’ve caught him staring at you tonight.”

Tessa blushed. “Martin’s looking at me?”

“Well, not right now. But he was a minute ago. Everything okay there?”

“Yeah.” She smiled, but her voice sounded a little funny. “Yeah, it’s fine. But they definitely need your help.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” I gave her a little salute before standing and moving to the end of the table.

She was right. They’d incorrectly labeled a still from Honey, I Shrunk the Kids as being from Ghostbusters , and they’d somehow been unable to identify Jennifer Grey in Dirty Dancing in the iconic ‘ I carried a watermelon ’ scene.

That was more embarrassing than anything I could confess about Quinn. Who I really shouldn’t have been embarrassed about anyway. So I’d gotten a little tipsy at Bar Onze the other night. Maybe I’d laid it on a smidge thick with the ex-boyfriend act. But my intentions were pure. Why couldn’t Quinn see that?

I wandered back to my seat near Tessa, still stewing. The guy I’d scared off obviously hadn’t been right for Quinn, if he’d spooked that easily. Besides, I’d watched the first half of their date. It had been so dull. Quinn deserved better than someone who made cleaning out earwax seem interesting in comparison. If anything, I’d done him a favor.

“Did who a favor?” Tessa asked, and I jumped, not realizing I’d spoken aloud.

“Just…a friend,” I said after a moment. I’d been trying to be his friend, anyway.

She gave me an arch look. “Is this by any chance related to the work thing that’s not really a work thing that’s been bothering you all night?”

I glanced around. Half our teammates were getting refills at the bar. The other half were on their phones, now that the movie sheet had been turned in.

“You know that the longer you take to answer, the more you confirm that I’m right,” Tessa said with a laugh. “So come on, what gives? Is something up with one of your housemates?”

I blinked. Nothing was up with Raf or Amir at all. But, I supposed, it was a reasonable assumption. A work situation that also involved a friend described my housemates pretty well, given that they both worked for Heartbreakers Anonymous as well. I decided to roll with it. After all, no one said I had to spill all my embarrassing secrets to my fake girlfriend.

I gave her a sheepish smile. “Yeah. But it’s stupid, and complicated, and telling you would be a waste of your time.”

I waved a hand dismissively, and she rolled her eyes. I wondered if it looked like we were having a fight. A glance over my shoulder told me Martin was staring again. I reached out and took her hand.

“Sorry for being weird.”

“It’s okay. But for the record, I do care. Besides, shouldn’t we, like, pretend to be a couple that talks about things going on in their lives?”

I laughed. “Instead of a couple awkwardly giving each other the silent treatment because one of them doesn’t want to talk?”

“Something like that.”

“Fair enough.” I sighed, wondering how to explain without really explaining. “It’s just Raf. He’s back on the dating apps, and the guys he’s meeting just kind of suck.”

“Really?” Tessa raised an eyebrow. “That’s hard to believe. He’s gorgeous.”

“Hey, thanks, girlfriend .”

“Just because I have a ‘ boyfriend ’ doesn’t mean I’m dead,” she said matter-of-factly. “Anyway, what do you care? Raf likes dudes. He’d never be into me.”

That was a good point. Raf had broken up with his boyfriend a few months back, after said boyfriend moved to New York. He hadn’t gotten back onto any apps yet, but he would eventually, and Tessa was right. It was hard to imagine him having a hard time finding matches.

On the other hand, it was also hard for me to imagine Quinn having trouble. He’d acted like he was lucky to have pulled that sentient wad of chewing gum on his date, when it was obviously the other way around.

But then, I didn’t get that about Quinn in general. He acted like he was hideous when he was actually good-looking. The birthmark just added interest to his face. Sure, it was noticeable the first time you saw it, but after a few minutes it just faded into the background.

Quinn seemed to think he was the sentient wad of chewing gum, for reasons I couldn’t fathom. Even if his family made him feel shitty growing up, he had eyes, didn’t he? Couldn’t he look in the mirror and see he was a catch?

Not that I was into him, or anything. But I was still able to tell who was attractive and who wasn’t. You can’t hide that kind of thing. Just like I thought Quinn would be able to tell that Tessa was pretty, I was sure Tessa would agree with me that Quinn was—

“Hey, where’d you go?”

Tessa’s voice interrupted my train of thought. She followed it up with a snap of her fingers right in front of my face.

“Hmm?” I looked over at her.

“You just went all silent and broody again. In the middle of our conversation.”

Whoops. I needed to find some way to stop thinking about Quinn. I couldn’t keep getting sidetracked like this.

“Sorry. Just thinking about what happened.”

“Which was…?”

“He went on this date,” I said, feeling the words out as I went. “And he’d been kind of down on himself, and I thought maybe I could just kind of…go too? For moral support?”

“Like a double date?” Tessa asked.

“No, no. He didn’t even know I was there. I just wanted to like, hang out in the background. In case he needed me.”

“Like a stalker?”

“Not like a stalker, jeez. You’re making me sound crazy.”

What I’d done to Quinn wasn’t stalker-y, was it? After all, I was trying to help Quinn. And it wasn’t like I was trying to date him myself.

“Well, stop acting crazy, and it won’t sound like you are.” She tossed her hair. “So anyway, you follow Raf to this date without telling him and then what happens? You didn’t crash the date, did you?”

I made a face. “When you put it like that, it sounds way worse than it is.”

“So you did crash it.”

“I was just trying to help him,” I insisted. “Raf’s not that confident about how he looks—”

She folded her arms across her chest. “That is extremely hard to wrap my mind around. I’ve met Raf.”

“You haven’t seen him since the breakup.” Which was true. But I really hoped Raf and Tessa wouldn’t run into each other now, at least not until I’d had a chance to untangle this web. “He’s having a lot more self-esteem issues, and he looked kind of subdued, and I thought if I went over and pretended to be his ex—”

“You did not do that.” Tessa looked horrified.

“I just wanted to make him seem desirable.”

“By making it seem like he has a crazy stalker ex-boyfriend? Yeah, I’m sure that went really well. How did he take it?”

I winced. “About as well as you’d expect, apparently.”

“What I can’t believe is that you didn’t expect it.” She shot me a withering look. “Seriously, what did you think would happen?”

“I thought I’d make him seem even hotter if I kind of talked him up to his date. And maybe I’d make his date be a little worried about whether he deserved Raf, instead of the other way around.”

“Jesus, Ryder. Sometimes I don’t understand how your brain works.”

I sighed. “Sometimes I don’t either.”

It was becoming more and more apparent that my brain didn’t work that well at all. Too bad crafting the perfect outfit for any social occasion wasn’t a job. Or identifying movie stills. Those seemed to be my only tangible skills these days.

I was drowning in most of my classes, and midterms were coming up. I’d sent in another batch of job applications and cover letters last week, finally doing something about all those job listings I was getting in my email, but I hadn’t heard back from anyone.

If only my grades were better. Or my cover letter skills. I was sure I could make a good impression if I ever got a face-to-face interview. But the weeks kept ticking by on the way to graduation, and I still had zero prospects. I felt sick to my stomach just thinking about it.

“Anyway,” I continued. “I don’t even think Raf’s date was that interesting, but Raf acted like I’d ruined his one chance at future happiness and stormed out of the bar.”

“I’m sorry.” Tessa made a sympathetic face. “I mean, I still think you’re an idiot, but I’m sorry. What did he say when you got home that night?”

Ah. This was the point where the lie broke down. Because I saw Raf every day, and if we’d actually fought, we would have made up by now. But Quinn…Quinn, I hadn’t heard from since that night. And I didn’t think I ever would again.

“He hasn’t really been talking to me,” I said, knowing it sounded lame. “I’m trying to give him some space.”

“Have you apologized yet?”

I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not sure he wants to hear from me again.”

“Well, tough shit, he lives with you. Of course he’s going to hear from you again. Besides, you do owe him an apology.”

Did I? Owe Quinn one, that was. I’d meant well, but from Quinn’s reaction, and now Tessa’s, I wondered if I needed to recalibrate. But I still didn’t think Quinn wanted anything to do with me.

“Do you really think that would help?” I asked.

“Do I think the guy whose night you ruined would like an apology from you? Yeah, dumbass, I do.”

I sighed again. Tessa didn’t know the whole story, obviously. But maybe she was right.

“Just text him,” she said, looking pointedly at my phone where it sat on the table.

“Now?” I couldn’t text Quinn if Tessa was looking at me. Or Raf, for that matter.

“You should have done it in person, the night you fucked up. But if you do it now, at least you won’t delay any longer.”

Her logic was perfectly sound. My hand had just closed around my phone, wondering how to get out of this, when it buzzed.

I looked down, and my eyes went wide.

QUINN: How would you feel about ruining another date?

It took a while to get over to U Street, but I walked as fast as I could. Quinn’s texts had conveyed a sense of urgency.

Tessa had been understanding when I told her a friend needed my help. In fact, she’d given me a wink and mimed zipping her lips.

“You’re the best.” I’d given her a quick kiss on the cheek, and made a mental note to tell Mason and Dana to comp this night for her, since I’d abandoned her.

DC in March swung between polar vortex and tropical vacation every few days, but it was chilly outside tonight. Humid, too—the kind of night that sank into your bones and made you feel even colder. I took one last look at my phone as I reached The Dartmoor, its bright lights casting a warm glow on the two row houses that stood to either side.

QUINN: I’ll explain everything later. Please just come if you can. I’ll owe you.

I didn’t think he owed me anything. I was happy to help out with whatever this was. But I couldn’t deny the warm-fuzzies I’d felt in my chest when Quinn had reached out to me. I liked that he knew he could count on me.

The large windows of the bar showed the interior clearly, and I realized Quinn was sitting at a tiny table right by the front door. The guy sitting across from him was good-looking, I’d give him that. Tall, burly, with a strong five-o’clock shadow. He was gesticulating wildly as he talked, while Quinn leaned back in his seat, looking visibly uncomfortable.

I paused for a moment, taking in the sight of Quinn. He was dressed in a light blue button-up shirt and corduroy trousers that hugged his slim form. As the other man talked, Quinn pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose, then hugged his arms around his chest. There were multiple empty glasses in front of both of them.

On the way over, I’d thought of and discarded countless possible excuses to drag Quinn away. Evil clowns ransacking his apartment? Timmy falling down a well? Sharknado descending on the city? But no, Quinn would want something realistic.

Which meant I couldn’t play the jealous ex card again either. I had no idea what Quinn might have told his date about his dating situation, and whether my story would contradict that. Besides, there was always the chance this guy would get aggressive, and I really wasn’t looking to get into a fistfight.

Instead, I barged into the bar, scanned the room, and let my eyes fall on Quinn’s table last, as if I’d only just located him.

“Quinn, thank God,” I said, letting the words come out in a rush. “You’ve got to come with me. Thea had a fall at Swannvale and is unconscious. They’ve taken her to GW, but they want a family member there, in case—well, it doesn’t matter. She needs you.”

I hoped I’d done a good job of sounding worried and frantic, but Quinn really sold it with his reaction. His eyes went wide and his face slack.

“What the—Auntie Thea?” He sounded horrified. “What happened? How did they—”

“She was on her way back to her apartment. That’s what they think, anyway. Someone found her in the hall. They couldn’t get in touch with you, so they called me and asked me to find you. Thank God she has two emergency contacts.”

“Shit.” Quinn looked like he’d been kicked in the chest. He turned to his date. “I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

He stood up abruptly and pushed his chair so far back that it knocked into the table behind them. He swung his messenger bag onto his shoulder and stepped towards me.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” his date said. “Maybe I should go with you. You shouldn’t be alone while you deal with this.”

“No, it’s okay.” Quinn waved him off. “I’ve got Ryder. He can stay with me.”

His date’s eyes swung to me and narrowed suspiciously. “Are you related to Quinn somehow?”

His gaze flicked back and forth between us like he couldn’t believe that was a real possibility. I wanted to inform him that yes, mixed-race families did exist, but this wasn’t the time to get pedantic.

“Family friend,” I said curtly. “Quinn, we should really—”

“Yeah, yeah.” Quinn shook his head, then looked at his date. “I’m so sorry. I’ll call you later, okay?”

I figured that was more than enough of a goodbye, so I took Quinn’s hand and tugged him towards the door. He didn’t fight it at all. If anything, he was walking faster than I was.

Once we were outside, I turned to the right and walked quickly down the street, keeping my pace up until we reached the end of the block and turned the corner.

“Where are we going?” Quinn asked, when I finally slowed down. He pulled his hand free. I hadn’t even realized I was still holding it. “Which hospital did you say they took her to?”

“What?” I looked at him, confused. “Quinn, Thea is fine. It was just a story to get you out of there.”

He stared at me, the whites of his eyes bright in the moonlight. “Why would you pick that as your cover story? You terrified me.”

“You told me to come ruin the date.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d do another creepy ex thing and tell the guy I had a fifteen-inch cock.”

“I thought you’d want something more realistic. I learned my lesson from last time.” I squinted at him. “You really believed me? I thought you were just doing a good job acting.”

“Sorry.” Quinn sounded a little huffy. “Not all of us are accomplished liars.”

His words stung. “Okay, well, you’re welcome, I guess. I’ll go, then.”

“No, wait.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

I arched an eyebrow. “You sure? You sounded pretty serious.”

“I was just freaked out. I’m sorry. I really thought you meant it about Thea, and it threw me. But if you hadn’t come, I’d still be stuck back there, so thank you. That’s what I should have said. Thank you.”

“There is more to my job than lying ,” I said, still a little annoyed. “But if that bothers you, maybe I really should go.”

“No, don’t. Really. I was being an ungrateful ass. Let me thank you properly.” Quinn looked around the darkened block. “We could go to a different bar. I could buy you a thank you beer.”

“Do you actually want to go to another bar?” I asked. He still seemed jumpy, and I didn’t want a pity drink anyway.

Quinn laughed softly. “That obvious?”

“Like I said, there’s more to my job than lying. I’m also pretty good at reading people.”

“Are you ever going to forgive me for saying that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe on your deathbed.” I gave him a stern look, but it was hard to keep from smiling a little. “Maybe.”

“In that case, I really do owe you a drink.”

“Eh, we can take a raincheck. Why don’t I just walk you home?”

“You don’t have to do that.” His answer was quick, and I would have bet he was flushing, though I couldn’t be sure in the dark.

“I don’t mind.” Honestly, I did feel bad for freaking him out. “And you can tell me what was so bad about this date of yours. Come on, I bet I can beat you for terrible date stories.”

Quinn’s face broke into a grin. “I don’t know. This guy was pretty bad...”

He regaled me with details of the night’s date as we walked from U Street down to his place in Logan Circle. The night felt warmer than it had on my way to the bar. Maybe some kind of front was moving through.

By the time we reached a tall brick row house with rounded bay windows at the corner of Vermont and Q, I was telling him about Ashley. Quinn stopped in front of the house and turned to me in disbelief. “She really forced you to sleep in bed with her?”

“I swear,” I told him. “I’m sure you saw in the contract, we’re explicitly forbidden from hooking up with clients. She knew that, but she still tried to grope me multiple times.” I laughed, though in truth, Ashley had made me a bit uncomfortable. “That is one person who will not be a repeat client.”

“Is it weird?” Quinn asked. “Having to be polite to people who kind of suck?”

“Not really.” I stretched my neck from side to side—it was tense tonight for some reason. “I mean, you just had a weird date and didn’t even get paid for it. You should definitely get paid for having to listen to a flat-earther try to convince you they’re right.”

Quinn giggled. “I should have put him in touch with Auntie Marie. They’d get along like a house on fire.”

I laughed, picturing that. “Probably. But I guess any time you meet someone new, it’s a crap shoot whether they’re normal or not. And it’s not like I really have any other job prospects. So I kind of have to be okay with it.”

Quinn frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Ah, nothing. It’s not important.” I nodded at the steps leading up to the building’s front door. “This is you, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah, I have the second-floor apartment.” He huffed a little laugh into the night air. “Much more boring than Joe’s houseboat, probably.”

“Too bad you’ll never know. Unless you really do call him again.”

I grinned at Quinn, who raised his hands to fend off the idea.

“Oh God no, that will not be happening.”

I looked down the street. “Well, I should probably go. It’s a hike to the metro, and who knows when the next train’ll come.”

“Do you—” he said, then stopped.

“Hmm?”

He bit his lip, and I was suddenly struck by the memory of kissing him. I wondered if his lips were always as soft as they’d been that night, and if they—

I blinked, realizing what I was wondering. I shook my head. I didn’t actually care about the state of Quinn’s lips or any other part of him. He probably just used nice chapstick.

“Do you have early classes or something tomorrow?” Quinn asked after a moment.

“No, not until the afternoon. Which means I don’t have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn for once, thank God.”

“You could stay here for the night.”

He spoke so quickly, it took me a moment to parse the avalanche of syllables into discrete words.

“Here?” I said, when I’d finally worked it out.

“On my couch, I mean,” he said even faster. “Just to save you the walk and the wait for the metro. The trains will be running more frequently tomorrow morning.”

He had a point. And now that I thought about it, I didn’t really relish sitting in the metro station for who knew how long. The prospect of that wait made me feel strangely lonely, and cold.

“I mean, if you don’t mind…” I said.

“I don’t. I wouldn’t have offered if I did.” He was still trying to win a speed-talking medal.

I wondered if he was still residually freaked out about Thea or his weird date. Maybe he would feel calmer with someone else in his apartment tonight. The least I could do was help him out.

“Okay, then. Sure.” I smiled, and it was genuine. A smile I almost never used, because it wasn’t designed to have any effect on my audience. It was just how I looked when I was happy. “That would be great.”

Quinn’s apartment was dark when we walked inside, but he touched a switch by the door and the soft light of a floor lamp illuminated the living room with a warm, yellow glow. The living room flowed right into the kitchen, following the open floor plan that was so common in renovated row houses.

Quinn flicked on the under-cabinet lighting and gestured to the fridge, then a cabinet on the right.

“There’s a Brita, and glasses in there. Or feel free to drink anything else you see. It’s all yours.”

“Water’s fine,” I said. We were both talking in hushed voices. There was no need, but the night seemed to call for it anyway.

“Bathroom’s down the hall,” he said, pointing to a door on the left side of the hall, behind the kitchen. “And my room’s at the end. Here, let me get you some blankets.”

He disappeared into his bedroom. I assumed he had a linen closet in there, and wasn’t pulling things off his own bed. I got myself a glass of water, then wandered into the living room.

Quinn had framed black-and-white photographs of various landmarks across the world. La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. The Pyramids at Giza. The Colosseum in Rome. One of those big wooden gates in Japan, this one with its feet in the water. I wondered if he’d been to all those places. I only recognized them from other people’s pictures on Instagram.

There was a big bookcase next to the couch, filled with science-fiction and fantasy novels, plus a bunch of books about birds. A little wooden model of a flower shop sat at the end of one shelf. A pair of binoculars perched on another.

Quinn’s apartment was filled with his personality and interests, and it painted the picture of someone I wanted to know better. I felt lucky to have been let in, but I couldn’t help thinking Quinn would find me ridiculously boring if he ever saw where I lived.

I’d been living with Amir and Raf for a while now—I’d moved off-campus as soon as the soccer team would let me—but I hadn’t put a single thing up on the walls of my room. It was just as beige and featureless as it had been the day I’d moved in.

I wasn’t just younger than Quinn. I’d done so much less with my life. Aside from soccer and a trip to Nashville for my maternal grandmother’s funeral, I’d barely traveled. I’d spent most of my life within a hundred miles of my parents’ farm near Tappahannock, Virginia. And if I hadn’t gotten that soccer scholarship, I’d still be stuck there.

A noise behind me made me turn around, and I saw Quinn padding into the living room, wearing an old white T-shirt and a pair of red flannel pajama pants. He was carrying a pillow with a Ninja Turtles pillowcase and a fluffy duvet in a dark blue cover.

“I like your linen choices,” I told him.

He flushed—this time I was sure of it.

“I know it’s kind of dorky. But my mom really hammered the whole ‘ don’t throw anything out if it still works ’ philosophy into me. The matching sheets got holes in them years ago, but the pillowcase is still good.”

“I wasn’t making fun of you,” I said. “I honestly like it. I was super into TMNT as a kid. Rafael was my favorite.”

Quinn grinned. “I was more of a Donatello guy. Rafael seemed too angry.”

“Yeah, but he had those sais . They were so cool. All Donatello had was a stick.”

“It wasn’t a stick, it was a bō , an ancient and venerable weapon. I won’t stand for any slander of him.”

“Ooh, touched a nerve, did I?”

“I’m just saying, it wasn’t just a stick.”

“Alright, alright, you win.”

I grinned and reached for the pillow and duvet. My hand brushed Quinn’s, and I swear, a little jolt of energy ran through me, like I’d shocked myself after rubbing my socks on the carpet. I shook my head. I must have been more tired than I thought.

“Well, um, good night, I guess,” Quinn said. “If you need anything, I’m just down the hall.”

“Yeah. Cool. Thanks again.” I was still wondering what had sent that feeling shooting through my body. It was unfamiliar—or maybe not unfamiliar, just something I hadn’t felt in a long time. It wasn’t a bad feeling, exactly. I just wished I could figure out what it reminded me of. “See you in the morning, I guess.”

“See you then.”

Quinn left me in the living room. I stared at the couch, not moving. I was still trying to chase down that sensation. I’d touched Quinn’s hand and… Why was Molly’s face popping into my mind? I hadn’t thought of Molly in a while. In fact, I tried not to think about her much.

Molly Markovitz was my last serious girlfriend. We’d been together for three months before she told me she didn’t think we were compatible in the long run. ‘ Lives going in different directions ,’ she’d called it, but I knew what she really meant. She was pre-med, and working to be a Rhodes scholar. She had her shit together. Meanwhile, I was barely scraping through school, even with the tutoring I was offered through soccer.

I wasn’t smart enough for her. That’s what she’d meant. And it was true. The guy she’d ended up dating was valedictorian of his graduating class last year. It made more sense for her to be with someone like him.

But that didn’t mean I wasn’t devastated. Molly was the reason I’d given up on dating completely. It just wasn’t worth it. Everyone I fell for eventually realized they could do better. I was sick of getting my hopes up, only to have them crushed.

I shook my head, pushing thoughts of Molly out of my mind. I wasn’t going to figure anything out just standing there. I put the pillow against the arm of the sofa and laid the duvet along its length. I kicked off my shoes and, after a moment, my pants and button-up shirt too. I usually slept in just my boxers, but I’d leave my T-shirt on tonight. I was a guest, after all.

I lay down and told myself to go to sleep. I might not have to get up early tomorrow, but Quinn undoubtedly had work, so it wasn’t like I could sleep in. The best thing I could do for myself was to fall asleep quickly. But I couldn’t.

No matter how much I twisted and turned, I couldn’t get comfortable. Kicking the duvet off made me too cold. Pulling it tighter made me too hot. Trying to sleep on either side made my shoulders sore, and lying on my back just left me staring up at the ceiling, wondering why my brain wouldn’t shut off.

It wasn’t just Molly’s face I was seeing. It was Molly on a specific night. The first night I kissed her. I’d been so nervous, not sure she actually liked me. But I’d leaned in and kissed her right outside her dorm room, and the moment my lips touched hers, that same bolt of electricity flashed through me. The same one I’d felt just now touching…

My eyes went wide.

Surely it couldn’t mean the same thing. That didn’t make any sense. I definitely didn’t think of Quinn the same way as I thought about Molly. Definitely not.

Because wouldn’t I know, by now, if I were into guys? I was twenty-two. I’d been sexually active since high school. But always with women. Sure, I knew which guys I thought were hot, but that didn’t mean anything. I was just aware of their attractiveness. And sure, sometimes I pictured ripped dudes when I was working out, but that was just to motivate me to work harder.

It was the same as when I jacked off. Sometimes I pictured other guys, but it was always in a competitive way. To make the fantasy hotter, when the girl I was imagining picked me over the other dude. None of that meant anything.

I didn’t feel competitive with Quinn. And he also wasn’t what you’d call ripped. So he didn’t even fall into either one of those categories. And yet…

And yet.

Quinn’s face appeared in my mind. Quinn biting his lip. Those soft, kissable lips. Quinn flushing from embarrassment. The way he smiled when he wasn’t self-conscious for once. Quinn grinning, talking about bōs tonight.

Was that why I couldn’t sleep? Was Quinn the source of the energy humming through my body? It didn’t make any sense. I hadn’t felt anything extra special when I’d taken his hand at the bar tonight—but I’d also forgotten I was holding his hand, it had felt so natural.

And I couldn’t deny the electricity that shot through me when our fingers had brushed here in the living room.

Before I knew what I was doing, I stood up and started walking down the hall. I felt light-headed, and my stomach was tight and fluttery at the same time. I wasn’t sure if I was feeling fear or excitement or both. All I knew was that if I gave myself time to stop and think, I’d talk myself out of this.

And I didn’t want to talk myself out of it.

I reached Quinn’s bedroom door, raised my hand, and knocked.