Page 51 of Man Candy (After We Fall 1)
I took a deep breath before pulling it open.
“Was it too much for you?” Quinn asked, his blue eyes serious. “What I did?”
“Which part?”
“I don’t know—any of it.” He ran a hand through his hair. It still looked perfect. “The stuff at the restaurant. The window and the kneeling and the scarf. The broken rule.”
God, Quinn. Don’t look at me like that. I’m completely unable to handle my own feelings, let alone yours.
And I had no idea how to answer his question. The truth was complicated. If I considered each thing alone—the restaurant, the living room, the broken rule—the answer was no. None of that was too much for me. I’d had fun at the restaurant, despite the hideous romantic gestures and embarrassing nicknames. Sure, he’d made me squirm, but secretly I’d enjoyed being the sole focus of his attention.
I’d enjoyed his little shame game in the living room too, loved knowing that bossing me around like that was turning him on—it turned me on, too. Had he been a little rough? Yes. But rough I could handle. Gentle was a whole different ballgame.
The broken condom rule was more troublesome, but even that I could chalk up to simply getting carried away in the moment.
But put them all together, and this felt too all-consuming, too good from every angle, too big for me.
All I’d wanted was a little man candy, and he was offering me an entire meal.
“Say something,” he implored. “I’m starting to feel bad.”
I felt myself cracking. “Don’t. Don’t feel bad.”
“I’m sorry if—”
“And don’t apologize. For God’s sake, Quinn. I had a great time tonight. I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do or wouldn’t do again.”
“Really?” He looked relieved.
“Really.” I wrinkled my nose. “Well, maybe not everything. I don’t think I ever need to be called dumpling again.”
He laughed. “I’ll stick to love bug.”
“Don’t you dare.”
We smiled at each other a moment, and even I felt reluctant to say goodnight.
“So does this mean you’ll go on another date with me? Because that’s what I want. Something more than just no-strings sex with you.”
I winced. “I don’t know, Quinn. I’m feeling a little…off kilter right now. I need to think through some things.” And you need to stop looking at me like that. Your face is totally incompatible with rational thought.
“I understand. I’ll let you get some sleep.” He looked down at the scarf in his hands, then met my eyes again. “You know, if it makes you feel any better, you’ve got me off kilter, too.”
“Jesus. Shouldn’t one of us know what the fuck we’re doing?”
“Oh, I know what I’m doing,” he said with a wolfish grin. “It just took me by surprise. Night.” He disappeared down the stairs, and I shut the door before I lost my mind completely and asked him to stay.
I didn’t fall asleep until well after two in the morning. I was agitated and restless—I couldn’t turn off my brain, and since my body was wired to it, neither could find any peace.
I was wrestling with thoughts and feelings that were completely foreign to me. Every admission was a cycle of disbelief, denial, and gradual (grudging) acceptance. Finally, I came to some conclusions.
I liked Quinn. Really liked him. It wasn’t just his body or his face or even his dick. I mean, yes, he was sort of obnoxious about his selfies, and he liked making fun of me way too much, but I liked his sense of humor and his work ethic. I liked his manners. I liked the way he talked about his mom. I liked that he quit modeling to go back to school and find something he really wanted to do. I liked that he knew my family and understood where I came from. I even liked that he stood up to me—sort of.
What I didn’t like was the way he had me doubting myself. It had been five years since I’d sworn off serious relationships, and in that five years I hadn’t once regretted that decision. I’d stuck to my rules, had a good time, and never felt lonely, deprived, or hurt. The guys I’d dated casually here and there hadn’t made an impact, exiting my life as easily as they’d entered it. They were nice guys—smart, attractive, attentive, successful. But they didn’t do anything to me.
There had been a few wild one-night stands and intense extended fuck flings, but not once did I consider anything more with any of them. That kind of passion just wasn’t sustainable for more than a few weeks, and frankly, none of those guys were very interesting beyond the bedroom.
But my gut was telling me Quinn wasn’t like anyone I’d ever been with before and didn’t fit neatly into either category. He wasn’t the dependable date with no spark, and he wasn’t the guy I wanted to bang but not talk to.
