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  “You, too, Veronica. Having a nice night?” he asked with definite mocking undertones.

  “A wonderful night with my girlfriends,” I hinted, trying to get rid of him. He sat in Avery’s vacant seat, either missing or ignoring the hint.

  “Are you here alone?” I asked, using the same mocking tone that he’d used.

  “No. I’m here with Mason.”

  “Who the fuck is Mason?”

  Veronica shot me a look that said, “Stop being rude.” Obviously I ignored that advice.

  “The guy whose bed your friend woke up in this morning.”

  I glanced toward the dance floor, and sure enough, there was Avery, grinding against Dorky Dark Hair from the night before. I thought back to the text she’d sent me that morning with a giggle.

  This just kept getting better and better.

  “Why are you laughing?” Reed demanded.

  I shook my head, and Veronica shot me another look.

  “Is he your roommate?” I asked, momentarily forgetting that he was staying with my brother. Reed shook his head, and the random idea that Avery had slept in the same place as Reed shot through my mind with an overwhelming sensation of envy.

  Envy?

  What the fuck was that?

  It was unfamiliar and uncomfortable, that’s what it was.

  “I’m staying with Grant, remember?”

  I nodded.

  “Is she yours?” he asked, nodding in Avery’s direction.

  I shook my head. “I live alone.”

  He nodded and Veronica looked back and forth between us. “Excuse me,” she finally said, and she stood up and took her drink with her to dance with Reese since Avery was now otherwise occupied.

  Great. Alone with Reed at Strikers for the second night in a row.

  I looked everywhere but at him. “So that game was fun this afternoon,” he said.

  I looked him squarely in the eye. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” And then he had the audacity to grin at me. Smile like a fucking Cheshire cat. I wanted to punch him in his jolly fucking face. Aggressive Quinn after a few whiskey drinks was never a good thing.

  “Don’t make small talk. Don’t pretend like we’re going to be friends. Just stop and leave me the hell alone.”

  “Quinn, what exactly is your problem with me?”

  I rolled my eyes as I shifted in my seat.

  I had about a million problems with this guy.

  He was preppy.

  He was pretty.

  He had no visible tattoos.

  He was blonde.

  He was sweet.

  He wore polo shirts and khaki pants.

  He was obnoxious.

  He wasn’t my type.

  He was everything I didn’t want in a man.

  But for some reason, fate kept throwing him in my path.

  And for some reason, my brain couldn’t get his stupid face out of my head.

  I couldn’t say any of that, obviously, but my filter was missing. Jack had taken it from me. “I just want to stop thinking about you and your stupid blue eyes,” I blurted.

  His eyes flashed in surprise as they snapped up to mine. “What?” he asked stupidly.

  “You heard me,” I said, and then I grabbed my drink and walked toward the dance floor to join my friends.

  He trailed behind me, a lost puppy dog. He tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned around impatiently midway between our table and my friends. Who taps someone on the shoulder? Fucking Preppy, that’s who. Same guy who shakes hands in a bar.

  “What?” I snapped.

  “You can’t say something like that to me and then just walk away.”

  “I can do whatever the fuck I want, Preppy.”

  “Preppy?”

  “Suits you.”

  “Okay, then, she-devil.”

  “She-devil?”

  “Suits you.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Quinn, I won’t be your sloppy seconds. When you fuck me, and you will fuck me, I’m going to be the only man on your agenda for the night.”

  My jaw dropped at his words.

  Preppy, Repulsive Reed. Surprising me at every single fucking turn.

  He spun around and left me standing there, completely astonished that he had the nerve to say that to me. And not only that, but he’d essentially admitted that he’d seen what went on in the hallway between Tyler and me with the term “sloppy seconds.”

  Veronica appeared by my side. “Is he the one that’s got you all twisted up?”

  I watched as he walked away, noting that his khaki pants didn’t hug his ass the way Ty’s jeans hugged his, yet his ass still looked good in them.

  I sighed.

  “Want to sit and talk about it?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “Come on,” she said, tugging my hand and leading me back to our table.

  “I’ll talk. You nod or shake your head, ‘kay?”

  I nodded.

  “You like him.”

  I shook my head.

  “You hate him.”

  I nodded.

  “But you want him.”

  I didn’t nod or shake my head.

  “Well?”

  “I don’t understand it.” I played with my straw, avoiding my friend’s curious gaze.

  “You don’t understand why you want him?”

  I nodded.

  “He’s not your type, Quinn. But maybe your type isn’t working for you anymore.”

  I stared off into space. She was right, and I hated it. My type hadn’t been working for me for a long time, and even though a tiny part of me wanted what my best friend had – a loving husband, a beautiful daughter, a gorgeous home – I was too fucking scared to get involved in something that was just going to end in destruction.

  Because it would end in destruction. Of that I was certain.

  So, just like I always did, I pushed my real feelings to the back of my mind, drowned my thoughts in Jack and Coke, and waited for Tyler’s shift to end.

  CHAPTER 5

  I hated Sundays.

  Fridays and Saturdays were good. Even though I had to work on Fridays, it still meant a night out, usually with friends and usually ending in some hot guy’s bed. And Saturday was more of the same.

  But Sundays meant that I had to go to work the next day, so I usually spent the entire day recovering from Saturday night’s activities and preparing for my week at work. When I wasn’t doing that, I was sulking.

  The highlight of my Sunday was meeting Veronica for a Starbucks date. We’d gossip and lesson plan together and I’d feel better after hanging with her for a while. But she had a family party to attend, so that meant Quinn was on her own for Sunday afternoon.

  As I thought about my day, blue eyes crept into my mind.

  I banished those stupid eyes immediately from my brain. I figured Ty would’ve fucked Reed’s eyes right out of my head after the way he slammed into me the night before, but apparently he hadn’t.

  I flicked on the television, trying to relax and lose myself in mindless TV. I flipped through every single channel three times before I realized that I couldn’t find anything to watch. I finally forced myself out of bed, feeling slothful and fatigued. I needed to work out. Surely exercise would help energize me. I was in a rut; that had to be the problem.

  But as I laced up my sneakers – shoes I only wore when I pretended to be athletic – I knew I was lying to myself.

  It was a damn shame that I was lying to myself, because if I couldn’t be honest with myself, who could I be honest with?

  This was ridiculous. I’d only met the guy two nights before. Why the hell had he taken over every thought in my mind? I was acting like every cliché I’d ever mocked. I looked up at the sky and saw the blue of his eyes, wondering what he was thinking behind their depths. I looked down at the sidewalk and thought of his khaki pants and what he had hidden beneath them. I noticed a little kid with bl
onde hair playing with his dad in his driveway and I thought of his silky strands that were always neat and tidy and how it would feel to tug on it and mess it up in the heat of passion.

  Later that afternoon after my run and a long and luxurious bath, I found myself at Walgreens. As I passed the aisle with a variety of douches and other vaginal supplies, I found that even that reminded me of him. He was such a douchebag, but the way he constantly surprised and challenged and provoked me was endearing. Entertaining. Addicting.

  Fuck.

  Did I just call Repulsive Reed the Prep addicting?

  I did.

  As I picked up a bottle of Tylenol and turned to head to the register, I ran headlong into a chest. “Shit!” I muttered as I dropped the bottle in surprise. I bent to pick up the bottle just as the offending chest bent to pick it up when I smelled him. His scent overwhelmed me, that same perfect aroma that I had memorized the day before at my parent’s house. It didn’t smell like cologne or aftershave; it just smelled like him. When my eyes rose to meet his as we both crouched on the floor of Walgreens, I honestly wasn’t shocked. It took me a moment to recognize him, because he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He looked different.

  Hotter.

  After the way we’d been running into one another over the past three days, I couldn’t have been shocked. He appeared anywhere, everywhere, and when he wasn’t standing in front of me, he was on my mind.

  “Quinn,” he said, his lips turning up into a warm smile.

  “Preppy,” I mimicked, pressing my lips together.

  He didn’t let my indifference stop him. He stood, holding out his arm to help me stand, too. I ignored his polite gesture. Polite Preppy Porter.

  I tucked some of my hair behind my ear, a nervous gesture that I had first noticed was a habit of mine back when I had to videotape myself student teaching.

  I wondered why I was suddenly wishing I’d taken the time to apply make-up before I ran to the store.

  “Can we just start over?” I heard his voice, but I ignored him and pretended to continue perusing the aisle of painkillers.

  “Will you stop and talk to me for a second?”

  “Just trying to get rid of this pain I’m having,” I said. I turned and looked at him. “It’s a real pain in the ass.”

  He gave me a look of frustration, and it was actually so cute it made me giggle.

  “You think you’re pretty funny, don’t you?”

  “Oh, Reed, I am fucking hilarious.”

  “You’re something,” he muttered quietly, but I still heard him.

  I picked up a bottle of Advil and pretended to scan the label, and then I set it back on the shelf. Reed studied my every move, and for some reason, it made me incredibly self-conscious. I took my bottle of Tylenol and made to leave the aisle, but Reed stood in my way.

  “What do you want?” I finally asked.

  “Funny you should ask that,” he said, taking a step closer to me. He ran his fingertip up my arm, and then his knuckles grazed my cheek. I shivered, and I wasn’t sure why.

  He was in my personal space, in my bubble, and my eyes were glued to his.

  “I want you, Quinn. Maybe you haven’t figured that out yet, but I do. I know we just met, and I know I’m friends with your brother so it could get weird, but there’s something about you that keeps calling to me.” He took one more step closer, his heat moving into my orbit. “I can’t ignore it,” he continued. “I keep running into you. It can’t be by chance. Something keeps putting you in my path, and I need to at least try.”

  I stood speechless as he confessed that he wanted me. I was never nervous around men. Never. I was confident, independent, and sassy. I always had a comeback.

  But something about this particular man threw me completely off my game.

  “Tell me you’ll go to dinner with me. Tonight.”

  I stared into the depths of those mesmerizing blue eyes that rooted me captive to my spot in the middle of the pain meds aisle of Walgreens.

  I nodded; he grinned. “Yes?” His voice held hope.

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “I’ll meet you at seven.”

  His eyes narrowed in my direction. I needed the advantage of driving myself. I was afraid to get caught in a situation that I couldn’t get out of. I trusted his intentions, especially considering he was friends with Grant; but I needed the “just in case” out.

  He gazed at me a long moment before speaking. “Fine. Do you know where Dover’s is?”

  I nodded.

  “See you at seven.”

  “Seven,” I repeated, and then I left him in the aisle and made my way toward the registers. It wasn’t until I set the Tylenol on the counter in front of the cashier that I realized my hands were shaking. Fucking shaking.

  What the fuck was Reed doing to me?

  Dover’s was a ten minute drive from my apartment, and I found myself pacing at 6:30. My hair was curled; I was wearing an appropriately low cut date shirt; my make-up was flawless.

  I honestly could not remember the last time I had been so nervous for a date. High school, maybe? I had always been such a take-charge kind of girl, but as I wore a pattern in my carpet from my pacing, I knew that this was different. Reed confused me and made me act completely out of character.

  And a teeny tiny part of me liked it.

  I finally got into my car and drove to Dover’s, blasting ACDC the whole way. Classic rock tended to calm my nerves.

  I pulled into the parking lot and looked around for Reed. I didn’t know what sort of car he drove, so I wasn’t sure why I was looking.

  I walked into the restaurant, and there he stood in the doorway by the hostess. I recognized him by his tight ass in his typical khaki pants. I rolled my eyes as I thought about all the effort I put into looking good for our date while he showed up in his uniform.

  My eyes meandered up his back to the collar of his white polo shirt. He was predictable, yet something about the way that white shirt stretched across the muscles in his back shot a bullet of lust through me.

  Okay. This was strange.

  And then my eyes moved to the hostess. They were talking, and she laughed as she gazed at him. From where I stood, I could see the admiration in her eyes, and I felt my level of irritation rise. And when I was irritated, I struck out at people.

  I took a calming breath in, held it for a moment, and slowly let it go, and then he turned around and his eyes met mine.

  It was in that moment that I forgot about the hostess.

  I forgot about the khaki pants and polo shirt.

  I forgot about the time and effort I put into my appearance.

  And, perhaps stupidly, I forgot about the door closing behind me as I stood in the doorway.

  All I could think about was his lips. Finding a way to get his lips on mine.

  And then the door smacked me in the ass, and I lurched forward, unsteady on my heels. Reed rushed over to help me gain my balance, placing his hand on my arm as he steadied me.

  “Hey, you,” he grinned, and I flushed in embarrassment. “Second time today I’ve had to help you like this.”

  “Shut up,” I grumbled, and I glanced up to see the huge grin stretched across the face of the bitch hostess. I glared at her and felt a little better. He was here with me, not her.

  Not that any of it mattered. I didn’t even like him.

  The bitch seated us, and we ended up at a small table. I claimed a chair across from Reed. Our waitress came by, a little blonde thing with perky tits, and she asked us what we wanted to drink. Reed looked at me. “Pinot Grigio,” I said, knowing it was safe to stick with wine on a date but thinking that alcohol mixed with Reed wasn’t a good idea. She looked at him with that same look of admiration that the bitch hostess had in her eyes when she had been chatting him up just moments earlier.

  I had to concede that the more I looked at him, the more handsome I found him. But I wasn’t into handsome. I was into ru
gged, hot and sexy bad boys. He was none of those things.

  Okay, if I was being honest, he was kind of hot. And maybe a little sexy.

  But nothing about Reed screamed rugged, and most definitely nothing even whispered “bad boy.”

  “I’ll have Jack and Coke,” he said.

  Alright. Jack and Coke was kind of a sexy bad boy drink.

  I shook my head and stared at my menu. I already knew I was getting a chicken Caesar salad, but staring at my menu meant I didn’t have to look at Reed. All looking at him served to do was completely confuse me.

  The waitress disappeared after a little flirting with my date.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “About what?” I didn’t bother to look up from my menu.

  “About world peace.”

  I lowered my menu and finally met his eyes. “What?”

  “About dinner. I’m just trying to make conversation.”

  “Oh. Salad, I think.”

  “Great. So tell me about yourself.”

  “Don’t be awkward.

  “How is that awkward?”

  “I don’t know. It just is.” My eyes returned to the menu. Anything to avoid those piercing blue ones staring back at me.

  I squirmed as his gaze landed on me.

  “What?” I huffed.

  He smiled, and I rolled my eyes. Seriously, this was like dealing with a child.

  “Why do you hate me so much?”

  I set my menu down and sighed. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, Perky Tits came back with our drinks.

  “What can I get you to eat?” she asked, staring at Reed.

  “We’ll both have the chicken Caesar salad,” Reed said, his eyes never leaving mine.

  Wait just a goddamn minute. I never said that was what I wanted. Even if it was, who the hell was he to order for me?

  Perky Tits managed to rip her eyes away from my date long enough to look at me, and I stared down Reed with a glare.

  “That’ll be all,” he said, and she collected our menus and turned to put in our order.

  We stared at each other in silence for a moment, my eyes heated with anger and his heated with lust.

  “You want to know why I hate you? For shit like that, Reed.”

  He grinned at me. Fucking grinned. Again.

  “For ordering you what you wanted?” He was acting ever the innocent, and it annoyed the fuck out of me.