Ishuffleintothekitchen at oh-god-o’clock in the morning and head straight for the coffee machine. Caffeine and lack of sleep are a possible anxiety-inducing mix, but I have to chance it. I won’t make it through work without some help.
This half-awake grogginess is totally worth it, though. Last night, Erik texted to ask me how my day had been and if Van was in town this week. Thankfully, he isn’t. I asked how his day was, and then we got to chatting about all kinds of things. It was all friendly and not in the least salacious, but it was still exciting. And surreal. I’d swear it was a dream, except I’d probably feel more rested if it were. I glance around the kitchen and try to remember what I was doing.
“Everything okay?”
“Fuck!” I slap my palm to my chest and grab for the counter to steady myself. “Shit. You scared the crap out of me.” I chuckle and turn around to face Quinn. “Good morning. And yeah, everything is fine. I just forgot what I was doing. I’m still half asleep.”
Quinn squints at me. “Yeah, I can see that. Did you get in late? I thought you were already here when I got home.”
He slides past me into the kitchen, and that’s when I remember I was going to make coffee. “I was here, but I didn’t go to sleep until late.” I yawn through my smile.
He gives me the side eye. “All right, spill.”
“What?” I try for wide-eyed innocence with a dash of sleepy cuteness to distract him.
That earns me an eye roll. “You’re tired and smiling, so your lack of sleep isn’t because of an episode.” He squints at me like he’s assessing my appearance. “You’re looking all soft and a little nervous.” He taps his chin dramatically, and I feel the heat creep up my cheeks. Quinn, who has obviously had more sleep than me and is Mr. Observant this morning, points his finger at my face. “And blushing! Blushing is a sure sign something is going on, so spill.”
I glance longingly at the coffee machine. “Coffee first?” Quinn considers and then drops a pod of my favorite blend into the machine, sets my mug under the spout, and presses start. He really is the best of friends. Or he’s just nosey and hopes this will bribe me into telling him what’s going on. Not that I won’t. Heismy best friend, soof courseI’m going to tell him. I just need time to consider what and how much.
We stand quietly and both watch the coffee brew like it’s the most fascinating thing. When it’s done, Quinn hands me my mug and starts his own cup. I delay as long as I can, slowly adding sugar and milk, but even at my snail’s pace, it doesn’t take that long. By the time Quinn’s cup is finished brewing, I’m leaning against the counter, carefully sipping my morning ambrosia and enjoying the heat of the mug on my palms. He turns around, cradling his own cup in his hands, and raises an eyebrow at me.
“Fine. So you know Erik and I went on a hike the weekend of our last video game tournament.”
Quinn nods, eyeing me skeptically. “Yeah. You said you had a bit of an argument.”
“It was a misunderstanding, and we got it cleared up pretty quickly, but yes. I may have neglected to mention that we kind of almost kissed.”
Quinn’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. “I’m sorry. What?”
“We didn’t! But, yeah. Almost. I think.” I wish my brain would stick to one verdict. I keep ping-ponging between what I think happened. “Anyway, we didn’t.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Quinn looks a little hurt and my stomach twists.
“Because nothing really happened, and I didn’t want to make more out of it than it was. But…”
Quinn raises an eyebrow. “But?”
I lean against the counter and give a little shrug. “There was that night several weeks back when you went to that author event with Tadhg and Blake.”
“Yeah, and you had that work function where the new boss ignored your anxiety and purposely planned something that would trigger you.”
I take a sip of my coffee, wondering if my lack of sleep is making my explanation as disjointed as it seems. “Yeah, at The Taproom. And he wasn’t purposely doing things to trigger me. He just doesn’t get why they’re triggering.”
“Jules.” Quinn’s scowl clearly says he doesn’t agree, but he lets it drop. “Anyway, yes, the night Erik went with you.”
I set my mug on the counter, then haul myself up to sit next to it. I’m way too tired to keep standing and explain at the same time. “He volunteered because you and Stef weren’t available.”
“Yeah, and you said it went well. Anyway, I’m still not sure what this has to do with this morning’s blushing and tiredness.”
I roll my eyes and lean against the cupboards. “I’m getting there, if you’d give me a minute.”
Quinn glances at the microwave. “Well, a minute is about all the time we have, unless you want to be late for work.”
“Fine. Yes, things went well. Eventually. Anyway, when I was talking to Jack, Erik came in and introduced himself as my date, and he kissed me on top of my head.” That actually did happen but could have been for show. Or not. I hate my brain.
Quinn’s eyes go wide as saucers. “Wait, he what now?”
“Um, he also kissed the side of my head a few times and held my hand. There was another moment when he cupped my jaw.” The memory of his thumb caressing my lip makes me shiver. “I… I think maybe he was going to kiss me then, too.”