Neanderthal Seeks Human(62)

Our train arrived and he waited to speak until it slowed to a stop. Quinn’s expression straddled the triple border of bewilderment, determination, and alarm. “So-” he huffed, his gaze pinning me with its sudden intensity; I was surprised also by the argumentative tone in his voice, “Would you ever date someone who made less than you?” he ushered me on to the el and to a seat by the sliding door, his arm went behind me along my back and against the window.

I nodded immediately, “Oh yes. Absolutely. I don’t have a problem with that. Really, my concern is being with the type of person who has enough wealth to decide- on a whim- to take off from real life and travel around where ever and expect that I’ll be able to do the same simply because he has the means to fund it. Or who buys me extravagant gifts- like a car or expensive jewelry.”

I felt a sudden shiver, like someone was watching me. I turned my head and surveyed the train. I looked from left to right and found only a smattering of what seemed to be college students. It was the same inexplicable sensation that I’d experienced in the club weeks ago.

“What is so wrong with that? If you’re with someone why can’t he buy you things? Take you places?”

I brought my attention back to Quinn, it took my mind a moment to sort through his words and their meaning, my attention still sharpened to the perception that someone was intently scrutinizing my movements.

I licked my lips, shaking my head slightly to clear it, “I want to be financially independent. I didn’t like having to constantly justify or explain that. One time Jon bought me a car- a really nice car- and he couldn’t understand that it wasn’t appropriate.”

“Why wasn’t it appropriate?”

I ignored the persistent impression that I was being watched, deciding it was my randomly overactive imagination, and pursed my lips in response to Quinn’s question, “You know why.”

“No. I really don’t. You’re going to have to spell it out for me.” He echoed my words from earlier, his expression strangely stiff.

I huffed, “Because how can I possibly reciprocate? What do I have to offer?”

“Yourself.”

I wrinkled my nose, “That makes it seem like I’m selling myself.”

Quinn tilted his head to the side, openly studying me, then asked, “Now who is keeping score?”

I opened my mouth to respond, closed it, swallowed, then said, “It’s not the same thing and I can’t believe you’re taking his side in this.”

“It is exactly the same thing.” he countered. “If no one is keeping score in a relationship then it doesn’t matter, does it? I should be able to give you whatever I want without having to worry about you feeling guilty or like you need to reciprocate.”

I frowned, studying him, really trying to absorb his logic and words. Finally I responded, “Reluctantly, I admit that you have a somewhat valid point. But-” I added before a look of triumph could completely claim his features, “it’ll take me a while to process and potentially adjust to this perspective.”

Quinn’s gaze moved over my face and a small smile curved over his lips, “I promise not to keep score with you if you promise not to keep score with me.”

I gave him a long, sideways stare. I considered his proposal. It seemed fair. I nodded just once and stuck out my hand, “Fine. Deal.”

A slow smile, and genuine look of victory, brightened his expression; his eyes were mischievous as ever as he shook my hand and said, “What should I buy you first?”

I poked him in the rib.





CHAPTER 13




When we arrived at my building we were still engaged in easy conversation so it didn’t actually occur to me to bid Quinn goodnight at the door. We spoke about his upcoming business trip to New York planned for later that week which, of course, brought up the fact that Gotham City is based on New York City. We then talked about our favorite cities, both real and fictional.

However, once we were climbing the stairs to the small apartment I shared with Elizabeth, I began to feel a little flutter of nervousness at the passive invitation I’d offered.

Quinn was coming upstairs. We were going upstairs together.

I felt I should warn him that the place was small and belongings were haphazardly strewn about and not at all organized. I wanted to explain that I was currently sleeping on the Ikea pull out couch-slash-futon in the center of the living space but didn’t know how to bring it up.

I also wanted to tell him that I wasn’t going to be his slamp and that, even though mind-blowing sex with him sounded very tempting, I was pretty certain I wanted a non-Wendell even if the sex would be just mind-lukewarming. Scarlet heat started to consume my face a little more with each step upwards and our conversation lulled as I approached my door.