Page 10 of The Arrangement

Jason: "Of course, I'll be going out of town for about a week after tomorrow. Maybe you could swing by before my flight?"

The attached winky face emoji immediately made me frown in disgust.

Me: "I have to work. Have a safe trip."

So I wasn't good enough for a second date, but was good enough to fuck?

I immediately silenced my phone and walked up the steps, dry orange leaves crunching underfoot. I sighed as soon as I got inside the relative safety of the breezeway, my keys in hand I stopped suddenly. I turned towards Unit 2's door, taking a step closer.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw that Quinn's door was slightly ajar. A low groan spilled out from the dark apartment like someone was hurt. Immediately, I found my mace on the keyring, and I clutched the pink item in my trembling hands. Had he been robbed? My mind immediately flashed back to the night I had used his bathroom and how he had mentioned the door jamb being finicky.

Maybe I should call the police? What if the assumed burglar was still there? Or what if my noisy, annoying neighbor was hurt? I risked pushing on the door, the hinges thankfully making no sound at all as I peeked inside. There were no lights on, save the solitary oven light casting an eerie glow over the kitchen.

"Hello?" I whispered and immediately rolled my eyes at myself. So, I was that character in the murder movie? A low, guttural groan came from the back of the apartment, which I knew from my last visit here held Quinn's bedroom. Dialing 9-1-1 and keeping my thumb over the call button, I stepped inside, already mentally berating myself for what I was doing.

"Quinn?" I called again to no avail. My pink pepper spray keychain held out in front of me, I hesitantly made my way through the small kitchen to find red light spilling from underneath his door.Okay, I should just leave, I thought—this was the makings of a horror movie. But despite myself, I knocked on the bedroom door, ignoring the racing of my heart and every instinct telling me just to leave and call the cops.

Muffled cursing and the sound of a groan that could have only been someone in pain trickled past the door. Summoning every ounce of courage I had in my 5'8 body, I pushed the door open only to stand completely still.

Whatever scene I had imagined playing out, nothing had prepared me for this. Nothing had prepared me for the sight of a man’s naked body kneeling in front of a high-end digital camera, with red photography lights casting an erotic red haze that outlined the perfect dips and cuts of his muscled physique. I couldn't help the gasp that left my mouth when I realized it was Sebastian Quinn, fisting his cock with a black balaclava covering his face. The bottom half of the mask folded up to reveal the man's full lips and chin as the most inappropriate words streamed from between his full lips.

"What the fuck?!" I couldn't help the scream leaving my mouth as Quinn's eyes locked with mine in unbridled alarm. "You're Wolfe?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He cried, grabbing a blanket and covering his lower half while ripping off the mask.

"Your door was open, and I thought you were hurt or getting robbed!" I cried as I covered my eyes. Even with the blanket, I could still see the ghosting of coarse hair that I had traced with my eyes a thousand times over video that made its way to his?—

Quinn stumbled over his camera, and as I jumped back, my fingers pressed down on the pink security device. And before either of us could react, the biting scent of pepper spray exploded around us.

Chapter 6

Georgia

"Why the fuck are you in my apartment?" cried Quinn, struggling to breathe or even open his eyes as I poured milk into his hands.

"I thought you were hurt! Your door was open, you prick!" I cried back, blinking back the burning of pepper spray as I pushed him over and, tipped my head up and dumped what was left of the organic milk over my face.

"Why didn't you just call the cops, Clark?" Sebastian retorted angrily, rubbing at his face with a dishcloth and blinking back tears.

"I heard you groaning and thought you were hurt!" I yelled, slapping the kitchen sink when I realized the milk was gone and my eyes still burned. "Do you have anything else?"

Quinn grunted as he dug underneath his counter to pull out a large bottle of yellow soap and turned on the kitchen faucet. "This should help—just fucking hold still."

My vision was still blurry as he grabbed my arm and pulled me over to the kitchen sink. "Why do you have so much soap?" I snapped for no reason other than the fact that my eyes were burning, and I was angry and more than a little embarrassed for pepper-spraying my neighbor while he was jacking off.

"Tattoos; it's the one good for tattoos. Just shut up and lean over the sink!" Oh yes, the tattoos. The tattoos that crawled up his right arm and onto his chest. The arm that he had used to…His larger hands grabbed mine and dumped a good amount of the scentless soap onto my hands and instructed me to scrub my face and underneath my nails.

It could've been minutes or even hours before the burning began to subside, and I counted my lucky stars. I hadn't even gotten more than a slight spray-off before I had dropped the offending bright pink object.

I slipped down the kitchen cabinet and joined him on the cold tile floor as I caught my breath.

"Why wasn't your door locked?" I accused, blinking into the low lights of the apartment.

Quinn scoffed, "That seems awful victim-blamey of you, Clark."

My cheeks flushed, if they could be any redder with the pepper spray burns. Thank god that pepper spray had expired by two years and I had been too lazy to replace it.

"I'm sorry, really I am. I didn't mean to…"

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