Page 39 of Sex Positive

“We’re working together on a project,” Charlie says.

A calculating gleam appears in Nash’s eye.

“Which you are currently interrupting.” Wes turns his dark gaze on the man seated beside him. “So getlost.”

Nash grins wider, resting his cheek on his fist. “Looks like the Quinn men still can’t keep their hands off the Hudson family’s things—”

Wes shoves Nash, and he nearly falls out of the booth.

“Quinn!” Charlie gasps. She glances around, but no one seems to have noticed the scuffle. Elle is still waiting for her and Nash’s drink order. “What the hell are you—”

Wes’s fists clench on the table, his eyes shooting daggers at Nash, who slides out of the booth and rises easily to his feet. He laughs, cold and cruel.

“It was almost cute, Charlotte, the pathetic way you chased me. I was flattered that you wanted me to fuck you, but once I heard about you and Quinny here, I couldn’t stomach the thought.”

His words paralyze her. Sharp, prickly heat spreads over her body, something bitter and metallic coating her tongue. “I don’t—”

“Hudson.” Wes’s voice is a low growl, seething with anger. “If you don’t back the fuck off right now, your Daddy is going to have to pay for a new set of veneers.”

Nash sneers. “Try it. I’ve beendyingfor you to hit me for years.”

Charlie’s gut writhes with nausea and regret. She can’t believe she ever thought having sex with Nash Hudson was a good idea.

Wes clenches his fists but doesn’t move.

Nash smirks and claps Wes gruffly on the shoulder. “Always a treat catching up with you, Quinny. Tell your sister I say hello.”

Wes flinches. Charlie’s heart pounds, her palms sweaty where she clutches the edge of her seat.

“Quinn—” she begins, but he pushes out of the booth without looking at her. When he stalks to the bar to pay their bill, she watches the rigid lines of his broad back, the tension coiled in his muscles.

She has no idea what that was about, but she’s never seen Wes react this way to anything before.

A few minutes later, he returns, his expression neutral. “Ready?” He starts for the exit without waiting for a response.

Charlie stumbles out of the booth, hurrying after him. “Quinn!” Two of her strides equal one of his, so she half runs while his long legs carry him quickly down the sidewalk. “Quinn, what the hellwasthat?”

He turns around so fast she nearly slams into his chest. “You want to know what the deal is between Hudson and me?”

She gapes, her breath catching at the uncharacteristic fury splashed across his features.

He releases an angry huff of frustration, his hands flexing at his sides. The sun hangs low in the sky. A trio of young women steps around them, heading in the direction of the bars for happy hour.

“We grew up in the same town and went to the same high school,” he explains.

“I didn’t know that,” Charlie says softly.

Wes stares at the ground, his jaw clenching. “Yeah, well. Sophomore year, we discovered my dad was having an affair withhismom.”

Something sharp cuts through her chest. “Quinn—”

“They ended it. My parents worked it out somehow and stayed together.” Raw vulnerability lines his face. “His didn’t. His mother got a bunch of money in the divorce and moved to California. Nash was angry and made the rest of high school complete hell for me.”

Charlie has a sudden urge to take his hand. “The affair wasn’t your fault.”

He flashes a wry smile. “Tell that to Nash.” He stares at a spot over her shoulder. “But the cherry on top of the shit sundae was when I walked in on my date giving him a blow job at the senior prom after party.”

Charlie flinches at the sharp edge to his tone. The same shivery unease she felt when Nash touched her, when he kissed her, pricks her skin, and her face burns at the memory of her fruitless experiment, of Nash on top of her, ignoring her wants and needs and jabbing at her with his inept fingers.