With Every Heartbeat (Forbidden Men #4)

“Sometimes, it’s the little things we do that mean the most to others,” Quinn murmured, echoing my thoughts.

I don’t know what changed in that very moment, but the last remaining bit of uncomfortable tension I’d felt around him the first night we met kind of just…melted away. I smiled as my chest eased.

Bringing his knuckles to his mouth, Quinn noticed nothing of my situation. He returned his attention to the entrance of our building. Cora was long gone inside, but he kept staring at the door before he asked, “Mind if I follow you up? Try one last time tonight to mend fences with her?”

“Sure,” I said.

The elevator ride up was quiet, but it didn’t feel as weird as it had the night before. Quinn was lost in his own thoughts, and I was still digesting all the things that had happened during and after the car wash. After I unlocked the door and let him in, he nodded his thanks and walked back to Cora’s closed bedroom door. He knocked once, then let himself in and quietly shut the door behind him.

I drifted back to my own room. My stomach grumbled from the supper we’d never gotten to eat, but it felt weird to wander around the apartment while Cora and her boyfriend talked in her room. So I curled up on my bed and wrote a short story about a girl who tried to kiss a boy but was shot down. In the end, they got back together and lived happily ever after.

I never heard any yelling from down the hall. I didn’t hear anything, actually. I didn’t even hear Quinn leave by the time I got ready for bed and fell asleep. I wondered if he’d convinced Cora to forgive him, but I had a feeling he had. If I’d been his girlfriend, I don’t guess I’d be able to stay mad at him very long. Honestly, if I were his girlfriend, I doubt I’d be able to get mad at him in the first place.

But thinking thoughts like that made me uncomfortably warm. Quinn Hamilton really needed to stop being so nice and pleasant to me. It gave my poor, pathetic heart thoughts it shouldn’t be having.

From here on out, I decided, I was going to keep myself as distant from him as possible, because guys like that were just too potent for girls like me.

Cora was sleeping soundly on the other side of the mattress when I woke. She liked to sleep in a lot. I swear, she’d sleep till noon every day if she could.

I turned my head and watched her breathe, relieved she’d forgiven me last night.

I knew I’d messed up. I was awful at talking about myself or my friends. I was awful at talking, period. But she’d been so mad at me. Her accusing words still haunted my ears.

“You made me look like a clueless idiot, Quinn.”

“No,” I’d tried to tell her. “You didn’t look like an idiot. You—”

“Looked like an idiot,” she snapped.

So I attempted to explain why everything had to be kept a secret. Just because there were a few rumors floating around campus about the reason Aspen had been fired didn’t mean people actually knew the truth. But if the truth got out, her entire future could be compromised. She might never find another teaching job again. And Noel would be crushed.

But Cora hadn’t cared about any of that. She’d just cared that I hadn’t felt the need to tell her such juicy gossip. It would’ve been bad of me to point out how much she and her friends like to spread rumors, whether they were true or not. Telling Cora anything confidential was usually too risky. So I just kept apologizing and promising I’d never keep anything from her again. And finally, she’d loosened up and given in.

After a quick kiss to her cheek while she continued to sleep, I crawled out of bed and pulled on my clothes from last night.

Foregoing my socks and shoes, I padded through the quiet apartment. After a quick freshening up in the bathroom, I headed toward the kitchen. I found the griddle under the sink where I’d cleaned and left it last Saturday. After plugging it in to heat, I hunted up some eggs, vegetable oil, and milk. The pancake mix was right where I’d last left it, too.

I had the batter whipped up and was about to pour my special happy faces when I heard someone enter the kitchen behind me. The startled gasp let me know it wasn’t Cora.

Every short hair on the back of my neck stood at immediate attention.

I whirled around. “Hi. Good morning,” I rushed out the greeting. “Hungry?”

Zoey jerked to a halt, gaping badly. She had her hair down. This was the first time I’d seen it down. It was still tousled and uncombed, fresh from bed. It made me uncomfortable, as did the rest of her outfit. Sure, her shirt was a lot looser than the one she’d worn last night to the car wash, but it was so large the sleeve on one side had slipped down and fallen off one smooth, creamy shoulder. Her shorts were once again short enough to expose plenty of her slim, toned legs.