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He looks at my hand on his sleeve, then at my socks, then back up at my face. “You ran after me.”
“Well, yeah, we have rules.”
His eyes bounce between mine as if he can read something I’m not saying in them. “Quinn.”
“Don’t Quinn me.”
He sighs. “If I go back to that room right now…I don’t know if I can just be what we were before. I need more, and I don’t think you are ready to give me that.”
“I’ll give you more,” I say. I’m not sure what more is, but I’ll do it. I can figure it out.
He laughs and smiles at me, but it doesn’t feel like a happy laugh or smile. “Do you even know what you’re agreeing to?”
“N—no. But I’m a fast learner.”
“You are so fucking cute. It’s irresistible. But Quinn…when I say I want more…I want to see you in my jersey at my games, I want to kiss you where anyone can see, I want to be around you and take you on dates.”
My lips part on a breath, my eyes feeling a slight burn behind them that tells me I might start crying. He wants that. For real. With me.
“That’s not friends with benefits.”
That’s dating.
“No,” he says. “It’s not.”
The two guys are still down the hall. I can feel them watching us. I want the part where I belong to him. I’m less sure about the part where the whole building gets to watch me belong to him.
“I can do dates,” I say. It comes out rough, but I keep going. “I can even wear your jersey. But I don’t know about public displays of affection. I mean…I like kissing you…but I don’t like the audience, not because I don’t want to be seen with you. It just makes me uncomfortable to be the focus of attention.”
He looks at me for a long second. His eyes lift to the guys before bringing them back to me.
“Let’s go back to the room,” he says. “We can finish our conversation there.”
Relief is sweet as he turns and we head back to the room, and I can feel tears slide down my cheeks. I keep my hand on his sleeve the whole way. The guys back into their room as we pass them, but I continue to ignore them.
The door shuts behind us, and he presses his back to it as I step further into the room. It still smells like the tacos he brought back. My experiment is still shoved aside. I stand there in my socks and wipe under my glasses with the pads of my thumbs, annoyed that my face did that where other people could see.
He watches me silently. I press my lips together, suddenly unsure of what to say.
“I’m sorry for making you cry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he says softly as he steps away from the door. “There is something you should know about me before you agree to dating me out in the open.”
I hold my breath and swallow hard. I feel like I know him pretty well, but what if he tells me something that totally shatters my perception of him?
“I can be a little intense when I date someone. Some have even called me needy.” He grimaces at the word and cards his fingers through his hair. “I just go all in. I don’t do things in half measures. I’ll bring you flowers. I’ll give you gifts. I’ll probably overwhelm the fuck out of you with the way I show my love.”
My mouth goes dry. “Love?”
His lips wobble over a smile. “See what I mean? I’m already starting.”
He doesn’t take it back.
It sits between us, and I wait for him to laugh it into something smaller. Like. Care about. He doesn’t. He looks slightly horrified at himself but still doesn’t take it back.
Something in my chest does the jump it’s been doing for weeks when it comes to him, I’d be concerned for my health if it didn’t only happen with him and when I was insanely happy. He just admitted he loves me in a round about way, and I think that counts. The pleased feeling only grows ,and it almost knocks out the leftover panic.
“You aren’t correcting yourself.”
“I’m not.” He takes a step toward me.
