Saint (A Dark Mafia Romance)(116)
“So how about we just invite Reagan up for some breakfast then.”
He plucks my phone off the bed, and I shriek and snatch it back out of his hands. “Don’t you dare!” He gives me a thin smirk before his eyes narrow and he looks away.
“Wait, Logan, I didn’t-”
“Yeah, Doc, I get it.”
“I just mean she can’t-”
“She can’t know about this lurid little secret. I get it, Quinn.”
I’m dressed, but I’m just standing there across the bed from him, not really sure what I’m waiting for. Closure? Release? Affirmation that me running out the second we wake up and not talking about what happened doesn’t just make this whole thing even more messed up?
“Logan-”
My phone rings again in my hand and I wince. Logan just slides out of bed and pads across the loft to the bathroom, where he slams the door shut behind him.
“Hey, you okay?”
I’m walking through the union Square Farmer’s Market with Reagan, picking over strawberries and trying to drag my mind away from what happened back in Logan’s apartment. I’m also trying to concentrate on whatever my sister is talking about. Clearly, I’m failing.
“Uh, yeah,” I shake my head and pop a strawberry into my mouth. “Yeah, I’m fine I guess.”
Reagan arches a brow at me with a sisterly look I know all too well. “Bullshit.”
“You know, you’re starting to swear as much as your husband, Ray.” I stick my tongue out at her. “You two are going to have to quit talking like sailors when the baby comes along you know.” I say, nodding at the small bulge in her stomach.
“Oh, give me a break. I happen to like my husband’s dirty mouth,” Reagan says with a wicked little wink, and I blush. Of course she doesn’t know that I’m actually blushing for a different reason concerning that particular dirty word-play.
Anyone ever tell you you’ve got a dirty mouth, Doc?
OK, yeah, that needs to get the hell out of my head right now.
“You’re distracted.”
“Hmm?” I try and look as innocent as possible, which is hard with thoughts of Logan’s cock throbbing through my head and the guilty blush across my cheeks.
“Is it work? No, wait,” Reagan peers into my face with a little grin. “It’s a guy, isn’t it.”
Crap.
“Nope.”
“Quinn.”
“Hmm?” My sister has this big shit-eating grin on her face and I look at her nervously. “What?”
“Uh, Quinn you have a giant hickey on your neck.”
The flush hits my face like a heatwave, and I cringe and look away as she laughs. “Well well! Cool as a cucumber Quinn is all turned around because of a guy! Do I need to save this date for posterity or something?”
I roll my eyes, trying to will the color away from my cheeks. “It’s not like that.”
“Well, then dish. What is it like?”
Forbidden? Off-limits? Wrong? Incredibly hot and the best sex I’ve ever had in my life?
“He’s- he's someone I shouldn't be with, like at all.”
Reagan rolls her eyes. “Well you’re talking to the right girl, you know. We’re in my wheelhouse now!”
Oh you have no freaking idea how right you are, Ray, I want to say. But of course I don’t.
“So, spill it! Why is this such a bad thing?” Reagan frowns. “Oh, God, this isn’t another workplace thing like with Andrew, is it?”
“Uh, no.” I swallow heavily and look away to avoid her look, but I know she catches me anyways.
“Quinn-”
“Ok! Yeah, sort of.”
Reagan’s eyes go wide as she grins at me. “At Archer? Is he like your boss or something?” She makes a dramatic face as she pokes me in the arm. “Ooo, so scandalous, girl!”
“Sort of? Not really I guess.”
More like just plain bossy?
My younger sister waves her hand as if brushing something away. “Oh, who cares then? I say go for it. I mean how long ago was Andy?”
We’ve moved on from the strawberries towards a stand selling cutesy “farm-style” kitchen utensils. “Uh, well, I also sort of live with him.”
It spills from my mouth before I can stop it, and Reagan about drops the wooden salad bowl she’s looking at as she turns to stare at me with her jaw on the ground. “What?!”
“No! No, not like-! I mean, he lives in my building.” I stammer, feeling more and more flustered the further down this rabbit hole we get.
“Ooooh!” Reagan shakes her head at me. “Well, yeah I guess that would make things complicated.”
Tell me about it, I think glumly, dropping my gaze to the ground.