If Quinley could think of a way to make it happen, she would have more than earned her keep.
ChapterThirteen
Quinley groaned and tossed back the covers. She couldn’t stare at the ceiling a moment longer. Sleep obviously wasn’t on the agenda, so she got up, wrapped herself in the throw blanket that draped one of the chairs in the sitting area and quietly tiptoed out of her room after wincing at the squeak of her bedroom door as it opened. With luck, there was still a little of Elias’s fresh-squeezed lemonade to be had.
She downed the first and was on her second glass with the television on mute and the closed captions flashing rapidly across the screen as Lorelei Gilmore pleaded desperately with Luke about her need for coffee when Quinley felt a presence behind her.
She jumped and swiveled to find a shirtless Elias standing in his doorway looking bleary-eyed and beautiful.
He might be a bit crazy when it came to his food police tendencies—which she totally understood now—but those were sometightlyracked abs. He seriously needed to be the poster hunk for eating well.
Not something you should be noticing.
Guilt niggled at her once again, though this time it was for an entirely different reason than leaving Rhys at the altar.
“You okay?”
Annnnd dang it if his concern didn’t make her heart sputter more than it should for a woman with flight-risk tendencies. Maybe that’s why she loved Lorelei so much? Identified with the strings attached coming from a wealthy family? The pressures? All the things? “Couldn’t sleep. Come join me.”
“Is she really talking that fast?”
A laugh emerged from Quinley, and she grinned. “Is it possible? Are you a Stars Hollow virgin?”
“Am I a what?”
She patted the cushion beside her. The chairs on either side of the couch were nice but the couch had the kind of soft, sinking cushions made for comfort. And maybe she tested her willpower, but she wanted him to sit beside her, all sleep tousled. “I’ll catch you up. But if you’ve seriously not watched this show, you’re missing out.”
He hadn’t grabbed a shirt before leaving his room, and she had to force her gaze back to the television andnotwatch as he lowered himself down, abs and back muscles and glutes flexing in the process.
She felt like fanning herself at the sight.
Not for you. Do you hear me? Not for you! You haven’t dug yourself out of the mess you’re in with Rhys, so don’t think for a single moment that Elias is for you!
She didn’t. She couldn’t. Yet…she found herself drawn to him too. But why? That whole damsel in distress thing? Had she gone from one fairy-tale man to another? Because the odds of that happening were…zilch.
She unmuted the television and gave Elias the full effect of an exchange between Lorelei and Rory.
“How does anyone talk that fast? Remember all of those lines?”
Quinley shifted and settled more deeply into the cushions, aware that his weight beside her meant her body leaned toward him a bit. “They’re amazing.”
A commercial began, and she felt Elias nudge her with his elbow, his corded forearm right there and twice the size of hers.
“Why can’t you sleep?”
She rolled her head on the cushion toward him. “Guilty conscience?”
“Is that it?”
“Mostly,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “That and dread. I just… I don’t want to go back. I know I have to go. I know I have apologies to make that have to happen in person. Iknowthere will be people in my life who will never forget that I’ve done, much less forgive it. And even though I keep telling myself that it doesn’t matter, that it’smylife, I feel guilty. I let them down.”
“You can’t live for others, Quinley. They aren’t living for you. You can’t allow anyone else to control your life.”
She stared into his dark brown eyes and felt a shiver race through her. A shiver she’dneverfelt with Rhys. Oh, Rhys was gorgeous, and they’d shared a mutual attraction but this was…different. It was unexplainable. Visceral. Just…more. And it wasn’t only that she found him attractive. That seemed to be a bonus perk.
She looked at him, really looked at Elias, and the need to touch him, to thank him for what he’d done for her, how he’d cared for her, overcame her. Became a living, breathing thing inside of her.
She’d muted the television when the commercial had started and the quiet cabin held only the sound of their breaths and the slight hiss of the propane in the walled fireplace, the flames flickering against the glass shards and reflecting off them like fireflies in a night sky.
