There is a pained look on his face like it’s taking all of his willpower to hold back from doing what it is that he really wants to do.
This should all feel awkward.
Inappropriate.
But it doesn’t.
He does something to me that I can’t explain. Maybe it’s mydaddy issues, the fact that he’s so much older than I am and so caring.
Regardless of the reason, I don’t want him to pull away so I return the favor by placing a hand on either of his hips—a silent acceptance of whatever this is between us.
And then I come to my senses, realizing that if this man tries to kiss me right now, I haven’t even brushed my teeth today.
Great.
Fuck.
I give him a quick squeeze and dip under his arm.
There is a strong possibility that I have ruined the prospect of there ever being anus,but I’m not about to put my lips on his—or anywhere near him—while my mouth tastes and feels a lot like I’ve chewed on an absolutely rank wool sweater.
“Coffee?” I ask awkwardly, shuffling to pull two mugs out and place them on the countertop.
He clears his throat uncomfortably and gives me a weak, tilted smile that causes my chest to ache painfully. “Yeah, sure.”
18
MY BEST FRIEND
JACK
Quinn blendsso seamlessly and fits so comfortably into our lives and home regardless of the scenario and it’s fucking with my resolvesomuch more quickly than I anticipated. She’s wearing me down, completely unaware, and I just pushed a boundary with her I shouldn’t have pushed.
I need to fix this.
I promised myself I would let her make the first move then barrelled headfirst into the opposite direction of that promise.
I stand across from her while she pours us each a cup of coffee. I am a respectful distance away when I lean against the kitchen island and face her back.
She turns to hand me my drink and plasters a forced, awkward smile on her face.
I can’t say I like that at all.
“I’m sorry,” I say—no use beating around the bush or trying to downplay the tension between us. We need to talk about this now before things get even more out of hand.
Her face twists like she doesn’t understand. “Sorry?”
“I shouldn’t have been so physically forward with you. I made you uncomfortable. It won’t happen again.” I hope she is not so uncomfortable she’s unwilling to stick around. I would kick myown ass if I lost one of the best things to ever happen to Sienna just because I’m a douche and can’t keep my hands to myself.
She takes a sip of her coffee and sits it on the counter next to her, then closes her eyes like all of this is just too much to form words about. Maybe she’s more upset than I thought.
“Quinn, I promise?—”
I’m willing to get on my knees and beg her forgiveness, but she doesn’t let me finish. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s fine.Ipromise.” She’s refusing to look at me and while I know first hand she doesn’t allow anyone to disrespect her, she needs this job and there is a good possibility she’d overlook my shortcomings in order to keep it.
My mug clinks against the stone countertop and I take a step toward her without thinking, then realize I’m doing it again. Boxing her in. She’s like a fucking magnet and I need to get a grip.
Why does it feel so right to be drawn to her?
