“And you told Luke all of that?”
“Pretty much. I don’t think we want the same thing.” She shrugs. “I get it.”
“I’m sorry, Tay-Tay.”
Yeah, I don’t care for that nickname either, but it’s okay coming from Quinn. I know she means it as a term of endearment.
I glance over, giving Quinn a weak smile. “So, you were nearly run over, huh?”
“Oh, well, that was the good part of my day. The rest really sucked.”
Now that makes me laugh. Hard.
We decide it’s best if she just crashes—no pun intended—at my place for tonight. She already sent a text to her roommates letting them know she was staying with me.
When we pull into my apartment complex, she frowns. “You’ve got stairs.”
She’s wearing a boot on her foot and limping a lot. Stairs would suck. “There’s a service elevator. We’ll use that.”
“Thank goodness.”
I wrap my arm around her waist and lead her through the door to the back of the main level. I press the button and wait as the elevator clanks and wheezes its way down to us.
“So, where did they take your scooter?”
“Gage took care of it.”
“He’s a nice guy.”
“He is.” She sighs.
I give her a side-eye. “Plus he’s got a thing for you.” At my door, I unlock the deadbolt and push the door open.
Quinn ignores my comment and changes the subject as she steps into my place. “You’re ready to move? Did you find a place yet?” Quinn sounds a little surprised.
“Most of that is Dylan’s stuff. He thinks he’s just going to move back in here, but I took care of that. I’ve started packing my stuff too.” I shrug. “Why not? I’ve got to be out of here. Our lease is up on the fifteenth.”
Quinn has a funny expression on her face.
“Yeah. Dylan wanted to be in before Thanksgiving last year, so he talked the management into a midmonth move-in date.” I roll my eyes, then mutter, “Idiot.”
I’m surprised by Quinn’s next words. “I think I need to move too.”
“Really? Why?”
Sitting down on my sofa, she puts her bad foot up on my ancient coffee table and begins to tell me about her current living situation since the basement of her rental flooded and the subsequent mold that grew because of standing water. Then there was the story of her ineffective landlord.
“And then there’s the spider,” she says with a shiver.
God, even if the landlord did fix up the basement… “Would you want to live there knowing there’s probably a million baby spiders running around? Spiders can lay like two hundred eggs at a time.”
“Great.” Quinn laughs. “Thanks for that.” She rubs her face with both of her hands. “Now I’m just picturing a basement full of Aragogs.”
“Well, that’s just crazy,” I growl. “Why won’t the landlord do more?”
“Patsy threatened him so he just sort of shut down on us.”
“God, I hate landlords like that. So spiteful.”
