He stepped in front of me before I made it to the exit, halting my escape and holding up his hands so I had to take a step back; “Let me be clear about something: I kissed you because I wanted to. I’ve been thinking about kissing you since I saw you in the lobby of the Fairbanks building weeks ago.”
His declaration, if one could call it that, caught me completely by surprise and, therefore a small, surprised sound escaped from my throat. My upstairs brain and my downstairs brain engaged in a game of risk and it was downstairs’ turn to roll the dice.
I shifted on my feet, not certain what to say or do so I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, then met his gaze. My stomach twisted at the slightly guarded expression he wore, how his eyes moved between mine.
I cleared my throat, “You just said it shouldn’t have happened.”
He hesitated for a moment, as though considering a chess move, his eyes still wary, “It shouldn’t have happened.”
I tilted my head to the side, ignoring the very obvious fact that I was beginning to pick up his mannerisms, and challenged him: “And do you think it would have happened if we hadn’t been drinking?”
He pulled in another audible breath, his chest expanding and his gaze dropped to my mouth, “Eventually.”
I blinked at him, twice. “I-” north was down and south was up. “I don’t know what to say.”
He pulled his hand through his hair again and mumbled so that I could barely make out his words, “I don’t have much experience with this.”
“With what?” I blurted.
“I want to take you out.” He swallowed, his features serious, cautious; “Out to dinner.”
“I-” east was west and west was somewhere in the Andromeda galaxy; “You want to take me out for dinner?” This was some kind of mistake. My eyes were wide with confusion and disbelief. I was certain the next words out of my mouth were going to result in my complete mortification; but, a glutton for punishment, I said them anyway, my voice cracked on the last word, “Like a date?”
He didn’t smile, he didn’t look amused; he just nodded his head and repeated, “Like a date.”
I stared at him for an indeterminable amount of time, waiting for him to take it back or clarify that he was referring to the dried and candied food date not the event date or for someone to wake me up from this bizarro-perpendicular universe. Finally I said, about ten decibels too loudly, “YES!”
In actuality, I yelled it. I yelled the word yes.
Quinn let out a breath. “Good-”
“YES, I’LL GO OUT ON A DATE WITH YOU, QUINN SULLIVAN, TO A PLACE WHERE WE HAVE DINNER.” I couldn’t stop the shouted words. I was having an out of body experience which for some reason made me bellow my sentence.
He laughed lightly, “Good, I’m happy to hear it.”
I nodded, not speaking until I was sure I had control over my volume, “Ok then. That’s that.” Not really sure about proper protocol in cases such as these I stuck out my hand for him to shake.
He studied my offered hand and enclosed it in his own, tugging me forward instead of shaking it. He leaned down and kissed me again- this time just a quick, brief brush of his lips against mine- then straightened. It made my toes curl in my shoes, my spine shiver, and my heart jump to my throat; I instinctively swayed forward as he retreated.
I blushed for the seven hundred and thirty first time, “I should go.”
“You don’t want to stay for the concert?”
“Oh.” I’d completely forgotten about the concert.
He pulled my notebook from my grip and motioned toward the picture window, “The first act should be starting soon.”
I hesitated.
“Let’s finish eating. Then, we’ll watch the concert. We can leave whenever you want.”
I glanced around the room. Much had happened in an extremely short period of time; the events warranted analysis.
Quinn tugged on my hand where he’d entwined our fingers until I met his gaze; his eyes were warm and unguarded, even sparkly. “I promise: no monkey business and no more compromising impulsivity control…” his now trademark sexy, meandering smile shone down at me. “Unless you want to.”
I could only nod, rendered mute by the glittering intensity of his grin, and allow myself to be coxswained in the direction of his choice.
~*~
True to his word, there was no monkey business. And, even though we both consumed additional alcoholic beverages neither of us initiated any physical intimacy beyond brief touches every so often. Although, from time to time, Quinn would brush my hair away from my shoulders or face and would lay his arm along the back of my seat.