Yet she didn’t say no. She didn’t draw back. She didn’t fight it.
She pressed into me. She wanted more.
There’s a thought in the back of my mind that’s like the third rail. I don’t want to touch it, but as I exit HRM’s building and climb into the back of the Town Car, it becomes impossible to avoid.
The secret.
My secret.
That’s the real, true risk in all of this. There would be a way to find another PR firm, another, lesser version of Quinn Campbell to arrange media appearances and smooth out my reputation so that Pierce Industries doesn’t have to be ashamed of me.
But they would be—everyone would be—if they knew the truth.
Deep down, I know that if I let Quinn get too close, if I let her break all my rules, break down all my walls, she’ll eventually come to know everything about me.
Everything.
Once she knows everything there is to know about Christian Pierce, she’ll leave, and she’ll never look back.
“Back to the office?” Louis says from the front of the Town Car.
“That’s right,” I tell him. As he pulls the car away from the curb, I close my eyes and let myself go back to that kiss. To the taste of her that still lingers on my lips.
Fuck.
I know this is not going to end well. I know it in my bones.
But I can’t turn away from this inferno of passion.
Instead, I resolve to get burned.
Chapter 15
Quinn
Monday night is sheer agony. I follow my regular routine—I go home to the apartment like nothing is wrong, change out of my coral dress and blazer and pull on the same stretchy yoga pants and tank top that I traveled here in, and then plant myself on Carolyn’s couch.
I’m still reeling from the aftershocks of Christian’s kiss—it feels like bolts of lightning crackling electrical charges through my hands, my feet, my legs. Every so often I catch myself raising my fingertips to my slightly swollen lips. It felt so good to be pressed up against him, to let those carnal urges flash boldly and run wild through my body…
I’m about to flee back into my bedroom to relieve some of the almost unbearable sexual pressure on my own when Carolyn breezes through the front door. She hangs up her purse on one of the hooks in the entryway with a flourish. “Hey, Q!” she says, and I sit up straight.
“Good day at work?” I ask.
“Great day.” She waltzes into the living room with a spring in her step and surveys my outfit. She raises her eyebrows in question. “I see you’re in for the evening. I take it your day wasn’t great?”
I can’t help smiling, because that kiss—oh, my God, that kiss—would have outweighed even the worst day. It was paralyzingly good.
“No way. It was—really good for my first day at headquarters.” I want to tell someone what happened between Christian and me, but I hesitate. Carolyn knows him, and I have a feeling that he won’t want this shared freely among his circle of friends. “The office is really…” I search for the words even as I give her a huge grin. “High energy.”
“That’s awesome!” she says, relief spreading visibly across her face. “I hate to say this, but I—I kind of forgot it was your first day. It seems like you’ve been here forever.”
I laugh out loud. “Is that a good thing?”
“Yes,” my roommate answers sincerely. “Jess would approve.”
She crosses into the kitchen and I hear her open and close a drawer, then I hear her pop a cork from a bottle of wine. She reemerges a minute later with two stemless wine glasses. She kicks off her black high-heeled shoes, and joins me on the couch, letting out a happy sigh as she hands me a drink.
“Cheers!” Carolyn says brightly, before we clink the glasses together, then take a celebratory sip.
“Tell me about your day,” I say once she’s leaned back against the cushions. “What was so great about it?”
“I quit my job!”
My jaw drops. Carolyn has a trust fund—she’ll never want for money—but this seems like a drastic lifestyle change. “What?”
She waves her hand dismissively in the air. “No, no, it’s not what you think. I’ve been planning this for a while, but with Jess moving out and you moving in, I didn’t think to mention it. What’s happening is—” Carolyn leans in like she’s telling me a secret, her eyes sparkling. “I’m opening a clothing boutique two blocks west of here. It’s going to be eclectic—fashion pieces I’m going to source from all over the country, plus some of my own artistic pieces. I’ve got the startup money, and if it goes under—not that it’s going to—but if it goes under, I can always go back to media production.”
“That’s amazing, Care!” I say, and as the words leave my mouth, I’m overwhelmed by how much I want to tell her about Christian. I just can’t. “Wine isn’t enough! We need food. Lots of food.”
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Carolyn can’t stop smiling about her newest venture.
“Chinese!” we both say in unison, and break down in giggles.