With Every Heartbeat Page 18

  I scowled at the dead phone, but the sound of rushing water from the bathroom called my attention back to things at hand. So I hustled down the hall and peered in at the disaster. Everything inside was splattered and drenched.

  Hoping to catch as much of it as possible, I dashed to the kitchen and threw open cupboards, looking for as many bowls and pots and pans as I could find.

  Ten minutes later, I’d devised a system where I held a bowl right over the direct spray and could aim it to pour into a pan on the floor. When that one got full, I aimed it to the next pot in line beside it and tried to wrangle the full bowl into the bathtub with one hand to drain it. My arms were screaming in agony; I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep this up. So it was a relief to hear someone knock on the front door.

  Letting go of my hold on the main bowl, which let the water spray out again, I hurried to answer the door, hoping the building super had miraculously sensed a problem and was here to rescue me.

  But it was Quinn.

  “Is the water still on?” he asked, his gaze running over my soaked clothes and hair.

  “Yes.” Miserable and almost in tears, I clutched my wet head. “I have no clue how to turn it off.”

  He stepped into the apartment. “Let’s have a look.” I followed him back, nearly having to skip into a run to keep up with his long-legged stride. He wore a ball cap, tight black T-shirt and jeans that looked...really nice on him, especially when he bent over to reach for something behind the toilet.

  Half a second later, the water stopped spraying him in the chest. He let out a sigh before he sat back on his haunches to glance over at me.

  I scowled and crossed my arms over my wet chest. “Oh, that’s not even right how fast you fixed that.”

  He grinned. “Sorry.” Then his gaze skipped around the bathroom before he murmured, “Wow.”

  “You’re telling me,” I grumbled as I waded inside toward him. “Now show me what you did, so I’ll know what to do the next time this happens.”

  “You just turn that lever there to turn the water off,” he explained, stepping aside and pointing so I could squeeze in closer to see.

  “Oh. Well, cool. That’s actually what I would’ve chosen next. But I kind of lost my experimental nerve after the first doohickey thing I twisted came off in my hand.”

  Quinn chuckled and glanced at my row of pots and pans. “Yeah, I probably would’ve lost my experimental urge too.”

  I straightened and smiled at him as I wiped stray drops off my arms. “Thank you so much for coming. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. And you got here so fast.”

  “I wasn’t too far away. I was driving home from work.”

  “Oh,” I said lamely as my gaze spanned down to his outfit. He must get good tips if that was what he wore to work.

  All wet like that, he looked really—

  “Oh my God,” I yelped, realizing just how wet he was. “I’m so sorry you got soaked.”

  “Looks like I wasn’t the only one.” When his gaze met mine, he grinned, and before I knew it, I was grinning back. Within seconds, we were laughing at the mess around us.

  “Why don’t you change into something dry,” he finally suggested, “and I’ll get started cleaning up in here?”

  The very idea made me recoil in horror. I already felt awful about him having to come over and rescue me. No way was I leaving him here to clean what I had messed up. “But you’re wet too,” I argued.

  He glanced briefly at my chest. “Not as wet as you are.”

  That’s when I remembered I wasn’t wearing a bra, and with my white nightshirt soaked through, he could see...everything. Flushing hard, I crossed my arms over my chest and retreated to my room to change.

  Quinn had a good portion of the bathroom mopped dry with a heap of towels when I returned. And he’d dumped out all the pots and pans and put them back in the kitchen.

  “Seriously, you didn’t have to do all this,” I said, shaking my head as I watched him toss that last wet towel into the hamper.

  He merely shrugged as he took in the outfit I’d changed into: baggy flannel pants with frogs on them and an equally large, but dark T-shirt.

  “It was no problem. You’d already had quite a night. I was happy to help.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that. So I cleared my throat and glanced away. “Well...thank you...again. I have no idea how to repay you.”

  “No, you don’t—” he started, waving his hand, only to pause and glance down the hall toward Cora’s room. “Actually, do you mind if I stick around until Cora gets home? Just to make sure she’s okay?”

  My eyes grew big. Whoops. I’d kind of forgotten about Cora. “No, not at all. Here let me try her cell phone again. Maybe she was just out of service for a bit.”

  But Quinn shook his head. “I already tried. She still has it turned off.”

  “Oh. Well...” I kicked at a spot on the carpet. “Psych time?”

  “Sure.’ He nodded, looking glum, but started to follow when the wet squish under his shoes made me pause.

  “You have to be miserable in those wet things. Do you have any extra clothes in Cora’s room? I could throw the ones you’re wearing in the dryer.”

  He scratched his ear, not looking very hopeful, but checked Cora’s room anyway. He exited a minute later, wearing nothing but the sleep pants he wore on Saturday mornings when he made pancakes. My gaze dropped briefly to the wet shirt and jeans he gripped in his hand, but strayed right back to his bare, rippled chest.

  But holy...moley.

  Yeah, he looked good shirtless.

  “This was the only thing I could find,” he said softly, tugging bashfully at his pants.

  I bobbed my head stupidly. “That’s fine.” And, wow, was it fine. He was fine. “At least you found something.”

  Actually, it was too bad he’d found anything, because Quinn Hamilton in nothing but his boxers had to look—yikes. I probably shouldn’t let my mind stray there.

  I bumbled forward jerkily and held out my hands for his wet clothes. He handed them over, looking a bit reluctant but letting me take them regardless.

  I tore my attention from his chest and hurried his clothes to the utility room where I shoved them into the dryer and cranked it on.

  When I found him in the living room, still gloriously shirtless, he’d settled on the couch and started up our show.

  “Looks like you’re already on season five,” he said, appearing shocked by my progress.

  “Yeah, I...” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m definitely a fan now.”

  He grinned at me. “That’s so cool.”

  I knew I should’ve taken the side chair, but I could see the television from a better angle on the couch, with him, so I sat beside him, leaving a whole cushion of space between us.

  He sent me another glance and then started the show.

  When neither of us laughed at the first one-liner, I knew something was wrong. Quinn picked up his phone and glanced at the screen, and it struck me how worried he was.

  I’d learned not to worry so much about Cora. She seemed like one of the most self-sufficient people I knew. When she needed help, she knew how to get it. I was almost glad he didn’t know about her kidneys; he’d probably be through the roof right now.

  I scooted closer to him and patted his knee. “She’s okay.” I was going to make sure she stayed okay. Just a few more months of testing, and she’d be as good as new again.

  He glanced at me, his eyes swirling with misery. Then he blew out a breath and tugged me closer to him so he could wrap his arm around my shoulder.

  Tipping his face to the side until our heads touched, he murmured, “Yeah,” but he didn’t sound so sure of his claim. “I bet she’s fine.”

  We fell asleep that way, watching Psych and pressed up against each other with his arm around my shoulder and my cheek resting against his shoulder.

  Cora woke us when she unlocked the front door. Yawni
ng and stretching, we stirred to find the show was long over. We were getting to our feet when she stumbled inside.

  She faltered to a stop, glancing between us. “What’s going on?” She focused on Quinn. “Where’s your shirt?”

  “It’s in the dryer. Where have you been?”

  She pulled back, blinking as if she couldn’t believe he’d dare to answer her question with another question. “I was out working on a group project for my World Geography class. I told you that. Why are you here, alone, with my roommate?”

  He glanced at me, answering, “She called, looking for you. She thought you were with me. I thought you were with her.”

  I thought I detected a bit of accusation in his voice, so I quickly said, “The water line to the toilet broke and I didn’t know how to turn it off or how to get a hold of the super. You weren’t answering your phone.”

  She looked down and pulled her phone from her purse. “Oh, I must’ve turned it off. Hmm. Wonder when I did that.” She turned it on and checked over the half a dozen or so messages from both Quinn and me. Then she looked up and smiled at us brightly. “So...everything’s fixed now?”

  “No,” Quinn said. “The line’s still broken. You’ll need to get a hold of your super.” Then he leaned in and sniffed her. “You smell like alcohol.”

  She scowled. “Well, yeah. We finished the project a couple hours ago and then went out for a few drinks. Is that okay with you, dad?”

  He nodded even as he answered, “I just...I could swear you said you were staying in and doing something with Zoey tonight.”

  “Are you sure?” When he kept bobbing his head up and down, she sighed and pressed her hand to her temple. “I don’t know, maybe I did say that. But I meant I was going to work on the group project with Sydney and Kallie and all of them in my World Geo class.” When Quinn didn’t respond, she looked at him. “You believe me, right?”

  Again he stayed silent, but he swished his head up and down, letting her know he did believe her.

  “Good.” She let out an exhausted sigh. “Well, I’m beat, so I’m going to bed.”

  When she started down the hall, Quinn followed her. He went into her bedroom with her, and then he shut the door.

  I slumped against the wall and hugged myself. I felt sick because I knew what he was going to be doing with her. And I felt even sicker because I could’ve sworn Cora told me she was going to be with Quinn tonight. But why would she lie to both of us?

  “Want to ride to class together?”

  Cora’s question made me stumble to a halt just as I reached the front door of our apartment Friday morning. After the night I’d had dealing with the plumbing, my limbs were sore and my head ached from how exhausted I was, but strangely enough, I felt kind of exhilarated.

  My roommate’s question warmed me from the inside. This might’ve been the first time since the car wash that she’d asked me to do anything with her that didn’t involve her health. But she just had to pick the worst day ever to ask, didn’t she? For once, I actually had plans.

  “Sorry.” I winced in genuine apology. “But I’m going over to Caroline’s straight after class.”

  Caroline wanted me to go to the show with her tonight and watch the newest bartender at Forbidden sing with his band for the first time. It’d also be a first for me. It’d be the first time I’d step inside a bar. We were supposed to go to her place this afternoon after classes and get ready together.

  “Where’s Quinn?” I asked, thinking Cora could ride to class with him since he’d stayed the night.

  But that question made her eyes narrow. “He had to leave early for his morning weight training session.”

  I winced. He’d gotten off work at two thirty last night, and then stayed up later to help me. And then he had to go in early for weight lifting? I suddenly had no reason whatsoever to complain about being tired. Poor guy.

  Stepping between me and the door, Cora crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, I was going to have this discussion in the car, but since you obviously already have plans...” She sneered the word as if she couldn’t believe I’d make my own plans. It made me feel guilty because I was here in this town for her, to make sure she stayed healthy. What was I doing, going out with Caroline to football games and concerts?

  “Are you okay?” I asked, immediately concerned. “Did one of your tests—”

  “I’m fine.” She rolled her eyes and sighed. “This is about Quinn.”

  I blinked, totally confused. “Quinn?”

  “Yes! Your crush on my boyfriend is getting a little ridiculous.”

  Not at all expecting her to say that, I stumbled back a step and pressed my hand to my heart. “Wha—no... Excuse me?”

  I couldn’t even believe...

  Yeah, I was too flabbergasted to think.

  “I mean, it was cute at first,” Cora went on in the most conversational tone as my jaw dropped farther and farther. “This is probably the first time you’ve actually liked someone from the opposite gender. Right? I mean, for a while there, in high school, I thought you were a lesbian and into me, but...no...from the way you watch my boyfriend, like all the time, it’s obvious you’re definitely into guys. I just hope you know you could never have him.”

  “I...I...” Heat infused my face...and my chest...and my stomach. I didn’t even know what to say to that. So I fumbled out a few more unintelligible words before sputtering, “Oh my God, Cora. I have never...not even once thought your boyfriend would—”

  “Good,” Cora said perkily, clasping her hands together. “Because even if you tried, he’d never go for someone like you. He’s into much more knowledgeable, sophisticated women. Naive, gullible little innocents just aren’t to his taste.”

  My heart flopped heavily into my stomach, not only because it hurt to hear how I could never get a guy like Quinn because I was too...me, but just knowing she felt the need to warn me away from him, as if she thought I’d even try to steal him from her, was just...yeah. Insane.

  “I don’t know why you even feel the need to say this to me.” I shook my head. “You know me! I’d never...ever...”

  “You’re right.” Cora smiled as if pleased. She patted my arm and stepped aside to let me go. “I do know better. I guess I was just getting a little possessive of the man I love.”

  Hearing her say the L-word rattled me more than I cared to admit, and I had to look at anything but her while I nodded, agreeing with her assessment.

  “Thank goodness that’s all settled then. Have fun at school.”

  I shook my head, feeling more unsettled than ever before. I stared at her a moment, then I had to say, “I think you should tell him, though. He deserves to know. Quinn is a really good—”

  Cora lifted her fingers to stop me mid-word. Then she narrowed her gaze. “Yes, he is a really good guy. But he’s my guy. Not yours. It’s completely my decision what I do with him and what I tell him.” She stepped threateningly closer. “And if you ever even think about interfering with that, or telling him what I don’t wish for him to know, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Understand?”

  I couldn’t even respond to that. I simply brushed past her and hurried from the apartment. But I felt cold, deep inside, all the way to school.

  What was worse, Quinn was already in art class, sitting in the chair next to mine when I arrived. And then he had to go and smile at me as if he were happy to see me.

  “Hey, did you get the super called this morning?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded vaguely, unable to look him in the eye as I sank into the chair next to him. “Cora showed me where the number was kept.” And then she threatened me to stay away from you and keep secrets from you.

  When I dared to meet his gaze, he was watching me strangely, as if he knew something was wrong. I offered him a tight smile, but my chest was constricted with fear and worry. “He said he could get to it tomorrow.”

  Quinn nodded and then opened his mouth to say something, but thank goodness Ca
roline and Reese interrupted, calling out to me and asking for my opinion on shades of fingernail polish. They were both excited about the concert that evening, so for the rest of the hour, I whisper-gossiped with them and made a point to ignore Quinn completely, even though it hurt to turn my back to him.

  He tried to talk to me as soon as class let out, but I sent the group a big, fake smile and waved goodbye before hightailing it out of there.

  My nerves were jittery and strung out; I was already on edge when I entered my writing class later on. And that’s when I learned we were having open critique.

  Something was up with Zoey.

  Despite the lack of sleep, I’d actually felt rejuvenated when I’d woken this morning.

  Last night had gone so well. If ever a guy were to fall prey to temptation, it would’ve been when he was stuck alone in close quarters and half-dressed with the girl who made his thoughts stray. But I hadn’t done one inappropriate thing with Zoey. It felt as if I’d passed some kind of test.

  Knowing I could one hundred percent behave myself around Cora’s roommate, I felt good and refreshed, and ready to befriend her without any reservations.

  I’d sought her out in the library a couple times before, but every time I’d actually seen her sitting at a table studying, I’d been too much of a coward to approach, worried about anything and everything happening. But now that I knew nothing would happen, I wanted to see her. Something had definitely been bothering her in art class, and I had to make sure she was okay.

  As luck would have it, I caught sight of her entering the library when I was still a few buildings away. Her back was to me as she skipped up the steps. She looked like she was in a hurry, so I picked up my pace to catch her. But when I entered, she was nowhere in sight.

  I checked out a couple of the tables I’d seen her sitting at in the past, but they were all occupied by others. She had to be somewhere in the building, but the library was a big place with lots of private nooks and crannies for secluded studying.

  I had an entire hour to kill, so I just kept looking. When I came to an area that was rarely inhabited, I turned down a row of bookshelves and saw her sitting on the floor at the end, against the wall with her knees drawn up to her chest and her head bowed, her hair covering her face.