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Something changes in her expression when I don't answer.
It's small, but I see it.
Disappointment.
Fuck.
She gives a little nod like I've just confirmed something for her. “Exactly.”
“Quinn.”
“I’m not judging you, Wyatt. I mean that.” Her voice softens, which somehow makes it worse. “But I'm not interested in being one of many. And I know that's what you do.”
I shove my hands into my pockets because suddenly I don't know what the hell else to do with them.
“Pretty sure you're making a lot of assumptions about me, Brennan.”
“Maybe.” Her chin comes up. “But I'd rather make the wrong assumption now than the right one after I let myself get involved with you.”
There’s something about the way she says let myself that catches me.
Like this isn't nearly as one-sided as she's trying to make it sound.
Like maybe her stopping me has less to do with not wanting the kiss and more to do with wanting it too much.
Now that’s a thought I can work with.
I latch onto it immediately, because one thing I know about myself is that I’m not giving up that easily. She can turn me down tonight. Fine.
Eventually, I’m getting Quinn Brennan to kiss me again.
I pull the half-smile back into place. “Just wanted to say goodnight, Brennan. That’s all.”
Her jaw tightens, like she knows damn well I'm full of shit.
She gives me one last look, half warning, half disappointment, before turning toward the building.
“Goodnight, Wyatt.”
“Night, Quinn.”
I stay on the sidewalk until the door clicks shut behind her.
Only then do I let the grin drop.
I drag a hand through my hair and exhale hard, staring at the empty spot where she’d just been standing, aware that my chest feels tighter than it should.
I turn and head back to the car, muttering under my breath, “You’re such a fucking idiot, Larkin.”
Shit.
The drive home is a blur of red lights and bass-heavy music I don’t actually hear. My phone lights up in the cupholder. Jordan.
Jordan:
???
I stare at it for a long second, then flip the phone face down. Not tonight.
