Hit the Spot
Page 28
“She’s fine,” Quinn offered, keeping her hands locked around Legs. “Really. She doesn’t have to move.”
I shot a glare at Quinn, communicating how I felt about that suggestion, then shifted that glare to Tori.
“I was getting up. Relax. We were just talking,” she huffed, moving off Quinn’s lap and coming to stand beside me. “You’re welcome, by the way,” she murmured.
I ignored her mouth, for now, and watched Quinn come to her feet.
She was seven years younger than me, putting her at twenty-one, tall and thin, with the muscles of a track runner filling out her legs and giving her some meat, kept her hair short and her eyes green thanks to contacts, and ever since she was a kid, refused to wear anything besides all black.
Right now, she was wearing tight black jeans, black motorcycle boots, and a black tank. Solid. No design.
Quinn kept the color to her hair.
“Hey, big brother,” she said with a smile, while fixing the pieces of hair around her face and making them spike out again. Dimples caved in her cheeks. “Thanks for coming to get me. I totally owe you one.”
“Let’s go,” I ordered, skipping pleasantries.
I’d tell her how good it was to see her when we weren’t in a fucking bar.
Quinn pulled her lips between her teeth after hearing me, blinked through wide eyes, and then quickly moved forward. She knew I wasn’t playing around.
“What the fuck are you doin’ here by yourself? Aren’t you stayin’ with Chante?” I asked when we made it outside. She always crashed with Chante, her ex, when she came to town.
“She’s working,” Quinn replied from next to me. “And I wanted to get a drink.”
“You couldn’t wait ’til she got off?”
“Jesus, Jamie. Ease up a little,” Tori said from behind me. “She just wanted to go out and get a drink.”
I stopped sharp on the pavement, causing Tori to bump into my back.
“What—”
“Not that this matters, ’cause either way I’d have a problem with it, but she ain’t here to get a drink. She’s here lookin’ to get laid,” I argued after twisting around.
Tori shifted her eyes between Quinn and myself.
“Jamie,” she whispered, sounding appalled as she looked up at me. “Why would you say that?”
“’Cause it’s true.”
“It’s rude is what it is.”
“Oh, it’s okay. He’s right,” Quinn informed her. “I was drinking but I was also hoping to pick someone up. I’m on vacation. Gotta live a little.”
“Oh.” Tori blinked, then she shifted her eyes between the two of us again, settling on me. “Well, it was still a rude thing to say,” she mumbled under her breath.
“Do I look like I give a fuck?”
Her eyes hardened. “That’s pretty rude, too. I’m beginning to see a pattern.”
Jesus. Always with the attitude. I didn’t need this shit right now.
“Babe, appreciate what you did in there, straight up, but you need to stay outta this,” I told her. “She’s my sister. If I gotta problem with somethin’ she does, I’m expressin’ that problem. I’m not gonna sugarcoat shit to spare feelings. That’s not how I operate.”
“What’s wrong with her going out to meet someone?”
“Nothin’, as long as she’s got eyes on her in case shit goes south, which is the whole fuckin’ reason why we’re here. You forgettin’ that?”
Her lips pressed together. I watched her agitation slip away.
Tori had forgotten why I’d dragged her out here in the first place, but she was appearing to remember now and maybe even understanding my reaction.
Seeing that and not feeling the need to argue further, I turned to Quinn.
“You shouldn’t be coming to places like this by yourself lookin’ for ass. Bring a wingman next time,” I ordered.
Quinn chuckled. “I don’t have a wingman.” She leaned back to peer around me and flashed a smile. “Can I have yours?”
My eyes narrowed. Quinn saw it.
“Or not,” she quickly added on a shrug, straightening up.
“I’m not his,” Tori threw out, not wasting time squashing that remark.
I sliced my eyes to hers.
Her brow furrowed. “What? I’m not,” she stated, as if it was crazy for anyone to assume any different.
“I’m thinking he’s in disagreement with you on that,” Quinn offered, laughing a little. “Wait. What does he call you again?”
“Legs.”
“Huh.” She paused. “Wait a minute. Legs.” Quinn glanced at me and then looked back at Tori, raising her finger to point. “Aren’t you the girl who ran him over?”
Tori’s face burned hot and contorted with rage.
Shit.
Forgot I told Quinn about that when she called and said she was coming to visit. Legs was now back to looking pissy.
I didn’t want that. Especially since I planned on sharing a meal with her when we got back to her place and wasn’t in the mood to fight my way inside.
Time to clear the air.
“I may have been exaggerating when I said that,” I confessed, looking at Quinn and watching her shake her head disapprovingly while fighting a smile. I met Tori’s eyes again. “Though contact was made. You did hit me.”
“Barely,” she snapped, bringing her hands to her hips. “And I apologized immediately for it. God, what else do you want?”
A smile pulled across my lips.
Tori’s eyes lowered to my mouth, then quickly cut away. “Forget I asked,” she mumbled.
I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.
Tugging the car keys out of my pocket, I directed my sister toward the Volvo and hung back to walk with Legs.
“Didn’t say shit to anyone else about it,” I informed her, reading her mind and figuring she’d think that.
Tori gave me a sideways glance. “Fine,” she replied. Her voice was unbothered, but I knew better.
Layers of bullshit. This was just another layer.
We reached the car and piled in.
Quinn talked up Tori the entire ride to Chante’s house, asking her questions and handing over information Tori didn’t ask for, just giving it because Quinn liked her and thought she was cool for putting on that performance back at Hammerjacks. She was talking fast and easy, oversharing a little, which Tori didn’t seem to mind. Legs paid attention, glancing in the back frequently, and commented when Quinn would take a second to breathe.
She even agreed to come out to celebrate Quinn’s birthday when it was insisted by my sister she show up. That surprised me considering the venue. Didn’t think Legs was into that shit.
“Nine o’clock! Wednesday. Don’t forget, okay? And wear something hot, like those pants you got on!” Quinn hollered out as she was climbing from the backseat.
The door shut behind her.
I watched Tori tilt her head down. “Really? They’re just leggings,” she argued to herself.
“Babe, ain’t nothin’ on you ever gonna be just anything. When you gonna learn that?”
She blinked, then her eyes slowly lifted to the dash.
I shot a glare at Quinn, communicating how I felt about that suggestion, then shifted that glare to Tori.
“I was getting up. Relax. We were just talking,” she huffed, moving off Quinn’s lap and coming to stand beside me. “You’re welcome, by the way,” she murmured.
I ignored her mouth, for now, and watched Quinn come to her feet.
She was seven years younger than me, putting her at twenty-one, tall and thin, with the muscles of a track runner filling out her legs and giving her some meat, kept her hair short and her eyes green thanks to contacts, and ever since she was a kid, refused to wear anything besides all black.
Right now, she was wearing tight black jeans, black motorcycle boots, and a black tank. Solid. No design.
Quinn kept the color to her hair.
“Hey, big brother,” she said with a smile, while fixing the pieces of hair around her face and making them spike out again. Dimples caved in her cheeks. “Thanks for coming to get me. I totally owe you one.”
“Let’s go,” I ordered, skipping pleasantries.
I’d tell her how good it was to see her when we weren’t in a fucking bar.
Quinn pulled her lips between her teeth after hearing me, blinked through wide eyes, and then quickly moved forward. She knew I wasn’t playing around.
“What the fuck are you doin’ here by yourself? Aren’t you stayin’ with Chante?” I asked when we made it outside. She always crashed with Chante, her ex, when she came to town.
“She’s working,” Quinn replied from next to me. “And I wanted to get a drink.”
“You couldn’t wait ’til she got off?”
“Jesus, Jamie. Ease up a little,” Tori said from behind me. “She just wanted to go out and get a drink.”
I stopped sharp on the pavement, causing Tori to bump into my back.
“What—”
“Not that this matters, ’cause either way I’d have a problem with it, but she ain’t here to get a drink. She’s here lookin’ to get laid,” I argued after twisting around.
Tori shifted her eyes between Quinn and myself.
“Jamie,” she whispered, sounding appalled as she looked up at me. “Why would you say that?”
“’Cause it’s true.”
“It’s rude is what it is.”
“Oh, it’s okay. He’s right,” Quinn informed her. “I was drinking but I was also hoping to pick someone up. I’m on vacation. Gotta live a little.”
“Oh.” Tori blinked, then she shifted her eyes between the two of us again, settling on me. “Well, it was still a rude thing to say,” she mumbled under her breath.
“Do I look like I give a fuck?”
Her eyes hardened. “That’s pretty rude, too. I’m beginning to see a pattern.”
Jesus. Always with the attitude. I didn’t need this shit right now.
“Babe, appreciate what you did in there, straight up, but you need to stay outta this,” I told her. “She’s my sister. If I gotta problem with somethin’ she does, I’m expressin’ that problem. I’m not gonna sugarcoat shit to spare feelings. That’s not how I operate.”
“What’s wrong with her going out to meet someone?”
“Nothin’, as long as she’s got eyes on her in case shit goes south, which is the whole fuckin’ reason why we’re here. You forgettin’ that?”
Her lips pressed together. I watched her agitation slip away.
Tori had forgotten why I’d dragged her out here in the first place, but she was appearing to remember now and maybe even understanding my reaction.
Seeing that and not feeling the need to argue further, I turned to Quinn.
“You shouldn’t be coming to places like this by yourself lookin’ for ass. Bring a wingman next time,” I ordered.
Quinn chuckled. “I don’t have a wingman.” She leaned back to peer around me and flashed a smile. “Can I have yours?”
My eyes narrowed. Quinn saw it.
“Or not,” she quickly added on a shrug, straightening up.
“I’m not his,” Tori threw out, not wasting time squashing that remark.
I sliced my eyes to hers.
Her brow furrowed. “What? I’m not,” she stated, as if it was crazy for anyone to assume any different.
“I’m thinking he’s in disagreement with you on that,” Quinn offered, laughing a little. “Wait. What does he call you again?”
“Legs.”
“Huh.” She paused. “Wait a minute. Legs.” Quinn glanced at me and then looked back at Tori, raising her finger to point. “Aren’t you the girl who ran him over?”
Tori’s face burned hot and contorted with rage.
Shit.
Forgot I told Quinn about that when she called and said she was coming to visit. Legs was now back to looking pissy.
I didn’t want that. Especially since I planned on sharing a meal with her when we got back to her place and wasn’t in the mood to fight my way inside.
Time to clear the air.
“I may have been exaggerating when I said that,” I confessed, looking at Quinn and watching her shake her head disapprovingly while fighting a smile. I met Tori’s eyes again. “Though contact was made. You did hit me.”
“Barely,” she snapped, bringing her hands to her hips. “And I apologized immediately for it. God, what else do you want?”
A smile pulled across my lips.
Tori’s eyes lowered to my mouth, then quickly cut away. “Forget I asked,” she mumbled.
I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.
Tugging the car keys out of my pocket, I directed my sister toward the Volvo and hung back to walk with Legs.
“Didn’t say shit to anyone else about it,” I informed her, reading her mind and figuring she’d think that.
Tori gave me a sideways glance. “Fine,” she replied. Her voice was unbothered, but I knew better.
Layers of bullshit. This was just another layer.
We reached the car and piled in.
Quinn talked up Tori the entire ride to Chante’s house, asking her questions and handing over information Tori didn’t ask for, just giving it because Quinn liked her and thought she was cool for putting on that performance back at Hammerjacks. She was talking fast and easy, oversharing a little, which Tori didn’t seem to mind. Legs paid attention, glancing in the back frequently, and commented when Quinn would take a second to breathe.
She even agreed to come out to celebrate Quinn’s birthday when it was insisted by my sister she show up. That surprised me considering the venue. Didn’t think Legs was into that shit.
“Nine o’clock! Wednesday. Don’t forget, okay? And wear something hot, like those pants you got on!” Quinn hollered out as she was climbing from the backseat.
The door shut behind her.
I watched Tori tilt her head down. “Really? They’re just leggings,” she argued to herself.
“Babe, ain’t nothin’ on you ever gonna be just anything. When you gonna learn that?”
She blinked, then her eyes slowly lifted to the dash.
