“You know,” I say, pitching my voice low. “If you want to get off, there are other ways.”
Quinn snorts. “Thanks, Captain Obvious. I’m fully aware. I stock my nightstand with batteries and lube, but it’s not quite the same, is it?”
I do a double take. Did she just...?
Fuuuck.
My cock twitches with interest. Quinn getting herself off is a visual I don’t need at nine-thirty in the morning, but it’s too late. The damage is done.
How am I supposed tonotimagine her naked and writhing in pleasure when she says shit like that?
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Just the thought of all that fiery hair spread out on her pillow as she moans has me adjusting my stance, shifting my weight to mask the effect of her words. Which is so wrong, because... bro code.
Forget bro code. She’s a virgin.
Totally. Off. Limits.
I rake a hand through my hair, searching for words. What is it with this girl? Doesn’t she have a goddamn filter? Sure, mine slips sometimes, but it’s only around the guys on the team. And only because I trust them implicitly. Growing up in a political family, I’ve learned to be careful about what I say and where.
Yet here Quinn is, talking about her vibrator. In a coffee shop. In broad daylight.
It’s sexy as hell and—
Both women stare up at me expectantly. I’ve been quiet for too long.
“Depends on the guy,” I finally drawl. “I can guarantee a hookup with Zac would be a distant second to your vibrator.”
Quinn’s mouth drops open, forming a luscious pink O.
Speechless. Probably a first.
“I tried to tell her.” Haley shrugs. “But once Quinn sets her mind to something, there’s no stopping her.”
I’m all for slaying goals, but not if it means Quinn will hook up with any douchebag who looks her way. She deserves better than some prick who can’t even remember her name.
“Are—” Quinn sputters, looking from Haley to me. “Are you two seriously ganging up on me right now?”
Haley grins. “Tough love, sis.”
“Traitor.”
The barista waves us up to the counter, and the girls step forward to place their order. A green tea and a croissant for Haley. A mocha latte and a pumpkin chocolate chip muffin for Quinn.
“Make that a double on the muffin,” I say, holding up two fingers. “And a chocolate milk.”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Quinn demands, arching a slender brow.
“Ordering breakfast.”Obviously.
She rolls her eyes and turns to the girl behind the counter as I fish my phone out of my front pocket. “We’re not together. Ring them up separately, please.”
“You can put it all on my bill.” I hold my phone over the contactless reader, eyes fixed on Quinn as the payment is processed. “My treat.”
“Thanks,” Haley chirps as Quinn delves into her bag. She pulls out her wallet and starts counting wrinkled bills.
“Here. This should cover it.” She attempts to press the cash into my hand. “We can buy our own breakfast.”
