Neanderthal Seeks Human(56)
He huffed, answering through clenched teeth, “I’m leaving.”
“Why?”
His green eyes moved between mine and his expression seemed to soften. Jon shifted on his feet and took one of my hands in his, “Listen, Janie, no matter what he says I want you to know that I love you. Just promise me that you’ll call me tomorrow- no matter what you’ll call me tomorrow and we’ll talk.”
I shook my head, befuddled, “Do you two know each other?”
“No. We’ve never met.”
“What did you two talk about?”
“It was nothing-“
“Then why are you leaving?”
He squeezed my hand, “Just promise me, please?”
I shrugged, “Fine, fine- I promise. I’ll call you tomorrow… This is too bizarre.”
He smiled tightly, in a way that didn’t reach his eyes, and released my hand. Swiftly, in one fluid motion, Jon leaned forward and kissed my cheek then turned and left. I stared at the door for several minutes.
When I turned around I found Quinn watching me. His expression was inscrutable, as always; and, as typical, his cerulean eyes seemed to be thinly masking a mischievous flicker. I walked back to the booth that lined the wall and my pace decelerated to a slow motion shuffle as I approached. I stared at him, with much the same perplexed expression I’d used on the door, then slid into the booth, opposite his chair.
As though nothing were amiss he motioned to the martini glass in front of me, “I ordered you a lemon drop.”
My attention shifted momentarily to the whiskey-colored liquid in front of him and the glass in front of me. There were only two glasses.
I frowned.
I glared at Quinn, hoping to convey the intensity of my suspicion. “What did you and Jon talk about? Why did he leave?”
Quinn didn’t even have enough decency to look ashamed. Instead he watched me with his up-to-no-good eyes and took a long swallow if his whiskey before responding, “You should ask him.”
“I did. He insisted it was nothing.” My tone was flat and laced with the disbelief I felt.
Quinn shrugged, “Then it must have been nothing…” his mouth pulled to the side in a barely there smile, “Unless Jon was lying.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in my seat contemplating him and his dissatisfactory answer. He met my gaze steadily. At length I said, “You’re not being very nice.”
“What have I done that’s not nice?”
“I think you’re being kind of sneaky. And that’s why I think you’re not being nice.”
His smile faded, “Sneaky isn’t on your four-quadrant scatterplot graph personality matrix.”
My eyes narrowed further, “Maybe it should be. Maybe I should add honesty as an axis and make it a 3-D model.”
“Do you think I’m being dishonest?” His voice was level but his eyes seemed to flare with challenge.
“No, I think you’re being technically honest, which is almost worse.”
All tangible expression left his features and his steady stare burned with intensity, I felt my cheeks redden under his scrutiny but maintained eye contact even when my heart began to race and a twisting nervousness wrestled in my chest. After a prolonged silence he stood from his chair; his towering form moving with panther-like ease and adroit grace. Quinn slid in next to me. He placed his arm behind me on the back of the booth and his gaze moved between my neck, lips, and eyes.
For a moment I thought he was going to try to kiss me. Instead he leaned close and whispered, “What do you want to know?”
It took a moment for me to form thoughts. Words followed sometime after: “I want to know what you said to Jon when I went to the bathroom.”
He sighed, “We did talk.” Quinn seemed to eye me speculatively then said, “And what I said is likely the reason he left. I’m not trying to be evasive but, it’s not my secret to tell.”
“What does that mean? ‘Not your secret to tell’?”
“It means that Jon has something he should tell you. If you want to know what it is then you should ask him.”
“And you’re not going to tell me what it is?”
He shook his head, his gaze was steady and his voice was matter-of-fact, “No. It’s not my place.”
I chewed on my top lip, scrutinizing him, finally deciding I believed him. “Fine.” I said with decisiveness. “Thank you for being honest.”
He nodded once, “You’re welcome. Now I get to ask a question.”
I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes, “Are we playing this game again?”
His smile was immediate and dazzling, “I like this game and I definitely like playing it with you.”