August was ignoring him, which wouldn’t have bothered him any other time, but the fidgety, nervous energy he was bringing to the table was annoying. Quinn was there to support Eren through this, but it was hard to keep his attention on the stage when the person sitting beside him wouldn’t stopmoving.
The breaking point was when August knocked over Quinn’s empty glass of champagne, bumping the underside of the table with his ridiculously long legs in his haste to catch it, sending a loud clatter through the quiet room.
Quinn straightened the area and shoved into August’s space, keeping his voice at a whisper so no one overheard him. “Do you have fucking ants invading your anus right now? Sit the fuck still.”
It wasn’t his most eloquent line, but his words had an immediate effect on August, causing him to go motionless.
Quinn watched him until he was sure he wouldn’t move, and then he turned back around, shaking his head when Eren shot him a questioning look.
The peace only lasted for a count of thirty seconds before August abruptly stood, interrupting the woman who was giving the presentationagain, and disappeared into the nearest corridor.
Eyes and whispers followed him, and Quinn felt a rush of second-hand embarrassment for the Bigfoot team. Eren moved to go after August, but Quinn grabbed his wrist and stopped him from getting up.
“I’ll go,” Quinn whispered. He left before Eren could argue, not wanting to ruin the presentation more than it already had been.
This night was part of Eren’s healing process, and Quinn wasn’t going to let anyone take that from him. Not even the tumultuous snowstorm that was August.
The corridor didn’t have any doors other than the ones that led to the kitchen and service rooms. But around the next corner was a sign for the bathroom, and Quinn knew exactly where the runaway hockey player had ended up.
Keeping a calm but stern mask in place, Quinn slipped into the men’s room and locked the door behind him. August was right where he expected him to be, leaning over the counter with the water running, his hair damp from brushing his wet fingers through it.
The sound of the lock clicking drew August’s attention, and Quinn met the icy blue of his eyes in the mirror. They didn’t speak. The only sound in the room was the rushing water, and the echo of August’s hard exhales of air through his nose.
“You didn’t have to come,” August said, roughly twisting the tap to shut the water off. “It’s not illegal to go to the bathroom, is it? How else was I supposed to remove the ants from myanus?”
Quinn flushed, mostly from anger because of the tone August was using. “I don’t know about the ants, but you might have to dig deeper to find the stick you seemed to have lodged up there, too.”
August let out a frustrated sound and raked his hands through his white hair, turning to glower at Quinn. His white dress shirt was damp around the loosened collar, and his black tie was askew from tugging it out of the way. With his hair slicked back and that dangerous stare pointed at him, Quinn thought he looked more like a mob boss than a goddamn puckhead.
“You’ve changed,” August rasped, his voice softening like he couldn’t hide his disbelief. “I didn’t recognize you until you were—”
Quinn waited for him to keep going, but when August clammed up, he knew he had to push.
“Until I was?”
August’s gaze flicked down and up, landing just below Quinn’s eyes. On his mouth.
Quinn bristled, and he knewexactlywhat had triggered this momentous discovery.
“You mean until I wason my knees, you fucking prick?”
August flinched, which was a good move because Quinn was two seconds away from tackling the cocky fucker into the nearest stall and drowning him in the toilet.
“It’s not like that,” August said, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. “It was the angle and the way you were glaring at me. Do you know how fucking different you look?”
Quinn was aware, yes. But if August had dyed his hair black and started wearing eyeliner, he still would have recognized him.
And if he didn’tknowhow spacy August could be, he would have felt a lot angrier than he was.
“I’m not dressed like a goth, and you dyed your hair white. What’s your point?” Quinn folded his arms to fight off the chill of the room and ease his own anxiety. “It’s not like you didn’t know what Iactuallylooked like. Esme and I were twins, so if you’d put two and two together, you would have realized that I’m a brunette.”
August flinched again, but Quinn was on a roll now.
“Or did you forget what she looked like, too? That would be a shocking reveal since you were so desperate to fuck her that you were willing to settle for her brother just to—”
“Stop!” August held up his hand. “Enough, I can’t—”
Quinn’s brow furrowed as he watched August grip his own face, like he was suffering from a blinding headache that took away his ability to speak.
