“Next question,” I said, the words little more than a growl.
“I’m…sorry.” Her words were sincere, soft, as well as her hand on my leg.
“It’s okay. You didn’t know.”
And hopefully she never would. I didn’t need her to feel sorry for me. Didn’t want her pity. It’s why I never talked about it in the first place.
For the first time since getting to the bar, we fell into an awkward silence. I was still too hot to continue the game, and I could only imagine all the things going through her head, so I did the only thing that made sense: called over the bartender.
After ordering and pounding back another shot, the anger finally started to ebb, even as my words finally started to slur.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I don’t like talkin’ about my past.”
To her credit, she sounded just as sincere as earlier. “You don’t have to apologize, Hux. I get it…I mean, I don’t get the extent of your injury, but you have no obligation to tell me what happened.”
“There you two lovebirds are!” I recognized Travis’ voice as it boomed over the music. A moment later, something heavy clapped me on the shoulder, startling the fuck out of me.Goddamn.
“We’ve been looking for you!” Quinn’s friend, Whit, joined in.
“Obviously not very hard,” Quinn replied, her voice taking on a sing-songy note. “We’ve been here the whole time.”
Whit’s tone bubbled with excitement, her words a bit breathy and high-pitched. “I hate to drag her away, but can I steal Quinnie for a moment?”
“She’s her own person,” I grumbled. “Why don’t you ask her?”
“Oh…um.” I could just imagine Whit looking at me with a blank expression on her face, unsure how to take my tone.
Quinn laughed, though, and brushed a hand against mine. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
A shiver went through me at the whisper-soft touch, chasing away more of the anger—no small feat. Maybe I was onto something earlier. Maybe she did have magic in those hands of hers. Desire rippled to life in me. I nodded in her general direction, feeling the air shift as she moved. Her lemongrass and vanilla scent drifted away before disappearing entirely.
“Well, damn, weren’t expectin’ this for your Saturday night, right?” Travis said, followed by one of his goofy ass laughs. “Wonder what the fuck they see in us? They’re way outta our league.”
I huffed. “Speak for yourself, dumbass.”
But his words stirred something in my soul. A tiny, traitorous fear that grew and grew the more I thought about it.
WhatdidQuinn see in me? Was she truly enjoying herself or did she just feel guilty? It wouldn’t be the first time that happened. The first pity date.
Fear sparked in that cold, dead part of me, igniting like kindling while being stoked by the flames of my whiskey-fueled anger. With Quinn not here to chase away the darkness, doubt crept in, mingling with my worries until I bristled with fury.
“Hey, man, you okay?” Concern rang in Travis’ tone. But I didn’t want his concern. His worry. His inevitable pity.
“I’m fine.”
Travis and I had worked together long enough that he knew when not to push me for information. “Alright. Wanna come back to the pool tables with us?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Let me know if you need anythin’, okay?”
I nodded, offering him a dismissive wave. A moment later, I could make out the sound of his retreating footsteps. Turning myself toward the bar, I managed to get the bartender’s attention.
“What can I do for ya, sir?” she asked.
“I wanna close my tab.”
Maybe Quinn really was into me. Maybe she wasn’t. But I didn’t want to wait and find out.
