Neanderthal Seeks Human(21)

He frowned deeply, his tone incredulous, “How do you know this? Has this happened to you before?”

“No- no. I’ve never lost my memory before and I’m not much of a party-club-bar person. One time my sister spiked my OJ before the SATs but that was just vodka; the other time I got drunk was also an accident.”

“The other time? You’ve been drunk two times?” His frown eased and he blinked at me. I noted again that his eyes were very blue and his chest was very naked.

I didn’t respond immediately, not really sure what to say, feeling mounting discomfort under his bared chest scrutiny. At last I shrugged, using a tactic introduced to me by Sandra, the psychiatry intern in my knitting group, and answered his question with a question; “How many times have you been drunk?”

He smiled faintly, “More than two.” his gaze was inscrutable. I wondered how he could be so comfortable in nothing but a towel in front of a complete stranger. “Do you remember how you got here?” Quinn tilted his head to the side; the movement reminded me of our bar conversation and the way he’d titled his head last night.

I searched my memory, my head starting to hurt with the effort, before I slowly shook my head, “No. I don’t remember coming here or-” I swallowed, “or anything else.”

He shifted closer to me, his voice low, “Nothing happened.” My eyes widened, not immediately understanding his meaning. He continued, “Nothing happened last night.”

I blinked at him again, opened my mouth to speak, then closed it again.

Nothing happened.

My eyes moved to his chin then lowered to his chest.

Nothing happened.

Of course nothing happened.

I licked my lips involuntarily and nodded, “I know.” My voice sounded like a croak.

“Really?” He asked.

I nodded again, my heart twisted painfully in my chest and I shifted on my feet. I couldn’t meet his eyes. I couldn’t understand my reaction to his statement. Nothing happened. Why did I feel suddenly disappointed when I should have felt nothing but relief? I didn’t understand myself. I should have known, as soon as I saw him coming out of that door, that nothing happened. Why did I feel surprised?

Of course nothing happened. Of course he wouldn’t be interested in me. Of course he is ten thousand leagues out of my league…

“How do you know?” He countered, he sounded defensive.

I took a step back and tried to run a hand through my hair but my fingers encountered stubborn tangles again, “I get it, ok? I, uh, I need to get out of here. What time is it?” I turned from him and started walking toward the couch, looking for the exit.

“You don’t look like you believe me. This is my sister’s apartment. I promise, nothing happened.” I heard his voice close behind me, knew he was following me.

I turned to face him, not quite meeting his gaze, “No, no- I really believe you. I know- with certainty- that nothing happened.” I added under my breath, “Of course nothing happened.”

He didn’t seem to hear the last part. Quinn came to a stop in front of me again, standing at least several feet away this time, “Good.” he nodded, his hands gripping the towel at his waist, “Let’s go get some breakfast.”

“You want to go get breakfast?” I couldn’t keep the surprise from my tone as I finally met his eyes. He nodded again and I stammered, “Like- like this?”

He gave me a small sardonic smile as he turned, “No, obviously I’ll get some clothes on.”

“But-” I blinked again in confusion, I needed to stop blinking so much, “But why?”

He shrugged, turning to me as he walked backward to the bathroom, “I’m hungry. You need eggs and bacon for that hangover. And, I’m hoping you’ll tell me more about the defining characteristics of mammals. I’m pretty sure you know more then you’ve let on.”





CHAPTER 6




Giavani's Pancake House was an extremely small, open air eatery with no tables. An L shaped, waist high, speckled grey counter top ran the entire length of the establishment and short circular stools upholstered with red vinyl were bolted in place on the wooden floor along the counter’s edge.

The place was packed.

A line, which rivaled the line outside Outrageous, curved along the block, around the corner, and out of my sight. People stood patiently, sipping Dunkin Doughnuts coffee and reading papers as they waited for a spot to eat breakfast. Rather than find the back of the line, Quinn walked up to two conspicuously empty stools at the furthest end of the counter, pulled a piece of paper reading RESERVED from the top of each seat, and motioned for me to sit in the stool adjacent to the wall.