“What’s this?” he asked,poking at the croissant.
“Breakfast,” I said,breaking a corner off mine. “You didn’t eat.”
He shifted again, thetiniest splash of color rising along the top of his cheeks. “I wasn’t hungry.”
My stomach sank. Ofcoursehe hadn’tbeen hungry. With everything from yesterday hanging over him, I wouldn’t have—
No, Iwouldhaveeaten, but I would have eaten in the middle of an air raid.Hadeaten inthe middle of an air raid, even.
Quinn was different.
“I mean, I don’t normallyeat breakfast,” he continued. “Which doesn’t sound any better. I think you’rejust trying to fatten me up.”
“You’ve cracked it,” I said.“I have a thing for slightly soft boys.”
“Really?” Quinn asked,raising an eyebrow.
I paused a moment toconsider the question.
“Umm. My history suggests Icertainly don’tobject,” I said, remembering several boys I’d enjoyed beingwith, if only for the evening, who couldn’t reasonably have been described aslean. “Any particularreason you ask?”
Quinn shrugged. “Wondering whatyou like, is all.”
Wondering if you like mewas what heclearly meant.
I wished I could tell him Idid like him. That I could imagine taking him to bed and giving him everythinghe wanted and some things he didn’t even know he did.
But also that I liked theway he smiled, and it meant something to me that he’d remembered how I took mytea. That I was attracted to the sweetness in him, and the innocence, and thesense of humor I knew was lurking under those sad puppy eyes.
I wished I could tell himthat I wanted to see him smiling and laughing and gasping with pleasure.
My phone vibrated before Icould come up with an answer.
Jimmy:I’ve got someoneon it. I’ll let you know if/when we figure something out.
I’d almost forgotten I’dasked for his help, even though it’d been no more than a few hours ago.
Thanks. You’re alifesaver.
When I looked up again,Quinn was chewing on his croissant and discovering the magic of dipping it inhis coffee.
The happy sound he made wasborderline obscene, and it attracted one or two pairs of eyes in our generaldirection.
I shifted, drawing myselfup, silently daring anyone to say anything. Quinn would moan over his croissantin peace if I had to clear out the whole coffee shop to make it happen.
…wherehad that thoughtcome from? I wanted him to eat, but…
This was how Gray must havefelt about Miles, I realized with dawning horror. Protective.Over-protective.
I wanted to see Quinn happy.He deserved a break, didn’t he?
“I do like you,” I said,wanting to reassure him.
Who knew what would havehappened last night if we hadn’t been disturbed? One or the other of us might’vecome to our senses, but…
It might have been betterall-round if we dealt with the sexual tension hanging in the air sooner ratherthan later.
A tiny, sweet smile spread overQuinn’sface, cheeks flushing again as he finished off the last of his croissant andeyed the uneaten half of mine.
