“Except for the fact that you knew who I was while I was just swinging my dick around not knowing whoyouwere.”
“Really?” I roll my eyes. “You said it yourself; you wouldn’t have believed me if I told you who I was.”
“God, I feel so stupid.” Jasper pushes a hand through his hair.
“Jasper, please,” I beg, grabbing his arm to try and stop him.
That jolts him out of his stupor.
“I can’t be here.”
Dread slides through my veins like ice. “You’re leaving?”
“And here I thought I’d found the real thing.”
Jasper is out the door before I can say anything else.
“Shit!” I yell into the empty room.
Before the door can shut, a group of people starts walking in. Not wanting to get sucked into any conversation, I find a side exit to leave.
I still have to finish my performance. How in the world am I supposed to go up on stage and sing about love when all I want to do is find Jasper and apologize to him?
It’s not like I was lying. More of a lie by omission.
But really, is it my fault that he gave me just enough to figure out who he was and I played it closer to the vest? Would he have still wanted to talk to me if I told him I knew who he was?
Would he have been that open and honest with me?
Fuck. Everything is a mess.
Meeting Jasper was supposed to be the easy part. It was supposed to be onourterms. Not thrown together by coincidence. I thought that acting like I don’t remember meeting him at the game might throw him off. Because if I showed how much it meant to me, would he know that CatsRCool was me?
That way, when we finally got to meet—for real—he wouldn’t be angry.
Way to go, Quinn.
You might have just scared off the most perfect man you’ve ever met because you were too chicken to meet him in person.
Finding the door to the makeshift stage in the ballroom, I push all these thoughts from my head.
Jasper. His face when he left. The fact that he might never want to talk to me again.
Performance face on.
Because that’s what I have to do.
Time for Quinn to take a back seat… Genevieve has a job to do.
Chapter Nine
QUINN
Ifucked up.
It’s the very first thought that plagues me when I wake up. Not even Dolly purring and wanting snuggles can distract me from how badly I messed up.
Checking my phone proves to be a fruitless effort. No messages. No red numbers signaling a notification. There’s no point in texting or messaging him on the app. He doesn’t want to hear from me. I’ve sent him a few messages since the gala.
