Neanderthal Seeks Human(40)

“You are incredibly talented and are one of the smartest people I’ve ever met-”

I interrupted him, “Yes that sounds like a real problem. I see your point-”

“-but you are completely blind to the obvious.”

I could feel heat rising again to my cheeks, I clenched my teeth, “Well, obviously you’re right. Obviously I should just carry the cell phone.” I slipped the cell phone into my pocket, “Thank you so much, Quinn, for pointing out the obvious error of my ways.” I gave him a very fake, very sweet smile and started past him, intent on the door.

Before I could move more than a step he reached out and stopped me, gripping my arm above the elbow. “Damn it, I’m not talking about the cell phone-”

“I need to get back to work.” I stepped back and shrugged out of his grip; he took a step forward, effectively trapping me against the counter and I refused to meet his eyes.

“You’re angry with me.” I heard him sigh.

“I’m not angry. I don’t get angry.”

“Then you do a really good impression of angry.”

Am I angry? I wondered. I couldn’t remember ever being really angry, not even when my mother left, not when Jem spiked my OJ before the SATs, not when Jon cheated on me with random bimbo #2. I was flustered and agitated and more annoyed than I’d ever felt in my life. But then, Quinn seemed to have some kind of effect over me, made my moods swing faster than a steroid doped Barry Bonds.

I lifted my hand to my forehead and rubbed my temple. “Look,” I huffed. He was standing too close, I couldn’t think with my brain when my body wanted to climb him like a tree. “I’m not angry. I just have a completely irrational hatred of cell phones. And you are just the messenger.”

“It won’t be as bad as you think.” He sounded remorseful.

I looked at him then, narrowed my eyes unhappily, “It’s already pretty bad.”

“Now I can text you daily jokes.” Again, his voice was deadpan but his eyes lighted with mischievousness; he placed his hands on either side of me, my back still against the counter, and filled every inch of my immediate vision.

I cleared my throat, my annoyance melting into something warmer even as I tried to stay focused, “I thought you said there would be no texting?”

“Only from me. And you don’t have to answer.”

“I won’t answer, and I won’t read your jokes.”

Then he smiled. It was the same slow sexy grin that always penetrated my defenses; “Yes you will. You’ll read them.” He nodded slowly, just once, as though to emphasize his certainty.

I tried not to smile and only half succeeded, “I’m still angry with you.”

“You said you weren’t angry.”

“In retrospect I think I was angry-” I tried to take a step to the side and met only the immobile granite of his arm, “-am angry.” I corrected myself.

“What can we do about that?” his eyes moved between mine.

I tried to keep my voice steady. Again his closeness was twisting my stomach in to knots. Didn’t he understand the concept of personal space?

“You can start by moving out of the way. I’ve been gone for too long and my lunch is now cold.”

I let out a breath of relief tinged with a semi-subconscious note of disappointment as he stepped back; he straightened and let his arms fall to his sides. It was suddenly clear to me that our short time together had helped me to become slightly more at ease around him. If he’d cornered me like he’d just done when he escorted me from my old job I think I would have spontaneously combusted with lust or fainted into a coma of bliss.

It felt like we were becoming friends or, at least, friendly. I didn’t see him as just a delicious piece of man meat any more. I saw him as Quinn: pushy, intelligent, frustrating, sexy Quinn who liked to tease me and thought I was smart and talented.

The corner of his mouth pulled upward just a fraction, “Yesterday you said I could interrupt your meals anytime.”

I grunted non-committedly and wrapped my arms around myself; without his closeness I felt cold and something about his eyes made me shiver.

He sighed, suddenly becoming serious, “Listen, I was calling earlier to cancel for today but I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at ten for training.” he pulled a hand through his hair, the locks arranging themselves with adorable askewness before settling back to their tousled perfection, “You go eat your cold lunch. I have to go to a meeting.”

“Go then.” I shrugged. “And if you lock yourself out of your car don’t call me. I won’t be answering my cell phone.”