“You’re suspect.” He squints at me. “I don’t like it.”
I take a drink, roll my shoulders, and that’s when the studio door opens and Quinn steps inside. She doesn’t look like she’s here to hang out. No weekend ease, no relaxed denim. She’s still in work clothes.
She’s wearing a soft blouse, tailored slacks, flats that have clearly seen a full day on unforgiving floors. Her hair is pulled back neatly, but there’s a looseness to it, like she twisted it up one too many times during the day and gave up trying to make it perfect.
My brain catches up a second later. The storm. Candlelight and food. Her mouth on mine. Yeah, that hasn’t gone anywhere. Her eyes sweep the room, brightening briefly when she spots Sadie’s camera bag on the counter. Then they land on me. She smiles. Not flirtatious. Not performative. Just tired.
“Hey,” she calls out, lifting a hand. “I was heading back to Dean’s and figured I’d say hi.”
Luc perks up immediately. “Look who finally escaped the real world.”
She laughs softly. “Barely.”
Sadie appears from the hallway and pulls her into a hug. “How was your first week?”
“Intense,” Quinn admits. “In a good way. Getting up to speed on new intakes and patients. Learning all the procedures and ready to really start digging in.”
Dean chuckles. “Be careful what you wish for.”
I watch her as they talk. The way she shifts her weight. The subtle way she rubs at the back of her neck when she thinks no one’s paying attention. Her posture is held together by sheer will. She’s exhausted but trying to hide it. And I feel it. Not just notice it.
“Still crashing at Dean’s?” Luc asks.
“For now,” she nods. “Apartment hunting is not going great.”
Dean grimaces. “Chicago real estate is a blood sport.”
“Trying to find times to look at apartments, while also commuting into the city every day is a challenge,” Sadie adds, shooting her sister a knowing look.
Quinn shrugs, but it’s tight. “It’s only temporary.”
I glance at the clock on the wall. Early evening already bleeding into a late night. “That’s a lot.”
“It is.” She meets my gaze and shrugs. “But like Sadie said, it’s temporary. I can handle it for a little while.”
There’s something unspoken there. And it’s not new anymore, and there’s something she’s not saying out loud. I know that feeling well; the pressure to prove you can handle it, even when everything in you is bone-tired.
“I’m going to head back to Dean’s,” Quinn yawns out after a beat. “I just wanted to say hi. Gonna go drown myself in a hot bath.”
Luc nods, distracted. Dean offers her a smile. Sadie squeezes her hand. I step forward before I can stop myself. Not dramatic. Not impulsive. Just necessary.
“So, commuting every day on the train?”
“Yes,” she answers. “Until I find a place.”
“None of the places we looked at panned out?” I feel stupid making small talk with her but I’m not ready for her to go yet. I haven’t seen her since the night of the thunderstorm, and that felt way too long ago.
“No.”
I run a hand over the back of my neck.Don’t overthink it. This is a bad idea.Not because it doesn’t make sense, but because it does. Maybe too much. “You could stay at my place,” I blurt before I change my mind.
The room goes quiet. Quinn blinks and her expression shifts. Not just surprise, but calculating, like she’s replaying something. “What?”
I keep my tone even, practical. “I’ve got a spare room. It’s in the city; in Lincoln Park where we looked at some places. You wouldn’t have to commute during the week. I’m at the studio most nights anyway. We wouldn’t be in each other’s way.”
Luc raises his brows. Dean smirks openly. Hayden reappears in the doorway, eyes sharp. Sadie’s glare is sharp as a dagger.
“That’s a generous offer,” her eyes narrowing.
