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Quinn didn’t rush to fill the quiet, but shifted closer. “That must have hurt.”

“Yeah, it did.”

“Do you still blame yourself?”

I considered the question. “Yes, but not in the way I used to.”

“How then?”

I squeezed the tea bags, thankful for something to do to keep my hands occupied. “I used to think I’d failed him.” I was aware of Quinn watching me, and I turned my head and offered him a half smile. “Now I think he saved me.”

His eyebrows went up. “How?”

“By forcing me to understand the difference between control and care.” I brushed my thumb across Quinn’s shoulder. “If Jordan hadn’t said that to me, I might have spent the rest of my life believing I was helping people when I was actually trapping them.”

Quinn absorbed that in silence before leaning forward and pressing his forehead against my collarbone.

“You’re not that man anymore.”

“I know.”

He raised his head and gazed at me. “Tonight proved that.”

Something loosened in my chest.

He’s right.

Jordan had left, but Quinn had stayed, and the difference between those two things mattered more than I’d ever expected.

I added milk to the tea. “Couch?”

He shook his head. “Bedroom.”

I bit back a smile. “Do you have plans?”

“After what you just put my hole through?” He snorted. “I don’t think so.” Then he smiled. “I just want us to be comfortable.”

I could get behind that.

We went into the bedroom. I placed the mugs on the bedside table, and we sat on the bed, both of us cross-legged, facing each other.

I wasn’t done talking yet.

I ran my fingers along his thigh. “Remember the other night when we discussed the possibility of you topping?”

Quinn tilted his head to one side. “I was going to ask about that. You mentioned something about experience.”

“I did, yes.”

He watched me carefully. “Is that something you’ve done before?”

“Yes.”

His eyebrows lifted. “With someone you trusted?”

“Yes.”

Quinn shifted his weight, his eyes wide. “Tell me.”