Page 47 of Sex Positive

The girl smiles, running the card.

Charlie scowls. “I’ll pay you back.” The cashier hands her the books in a brown paper bag.

“You won’t,” he replies.

“Watchme.”

“Gladly,” he purrs in her ear.

She snaps her mouth shut, heat engulfing her so swiftly she can only spin on her heel and march out the door, ignoring his amused chuckle.

Outside, the sun hangs lower in the sky. She releases her annoyance and sighs. “Thank you. For bringing me here.”

He beams, his dimple accentuated, but it’s the color of his cheeks that catch her attention. She wants to take that color and paint the walls of her heart with it, the truth of Wesley Quinn’s kindness.

“I wanted to give you a chance to get lost in your favorite kind of place.” He glances at his phone. “We have time for one more stop. Will you come with me?”

This time, she doesn’t ask where they’re going, nodding without hesitation.

He leads her away from the bookstore, turning left and strolling a few more blocks. After several minutes, they come to a shining revolving door lined in silver and gold. The exterior of the building is gray stone, and a bronze sign readsquinn & sons.

“Quinn—” she begins, but he’s already pushing through the door. She hurries after him into a simple yet elegant lobby. Several leather chairs cluster together in what appears to be a small waiting area, and a few large potted plants stand in the corners. When they approach the mahogany desk in front of two gleaming elevators, the security guard glances up and grins.

“Mr. Quinn!” The middle-aged, graying white man stands and shakes Wes’s hand. “How are you?”

“Couldn’t be better, Willis. How’s your wife?”

Charlie observes the exchange with mute fascination, pieces coming together in her mind.

“She’s much better. Finished the last round of chemo, and the doctors say she has a high chance of remission. We have a checkup next week.”

Wes claps him on the shoulder. “Well, please tell her she’s in my thoughts, and I have my fingers crossed for good news next time I see you.” He glances to the elevators. “Is my dad here?”

Willis glances at Charlie for the first time, flashing her a friendly smile. “Not at the moment. I believe he left for the day a few hours ago. Said he had some meetings.”

Wes visibly relaxes. “Perfect.” He presses his hand to Charlie’s shoulder. “This is a friend from school, Charlie Rogers. She wants to practice law, too, so I wanted to show her around.”

Willis doesn’t question him. Smiling wider, he ushers them through to the elevators. “Good seeing you, Wesley.”

Wes smiles, punching the up button. “You too, Willis.”

The elevator doors slide open. Charlie stands next to Wes, and the doors close. He pushes the button for the fourteenth floor.

For a few moments, the only sound is the faint whoosh of the ascending elevator.

Wes is no longer smiling, his expression contemplative.

“This is your father’s firm.”

He glances at her, his mouth twitching. “What gave it away?”

The doors open on the fourteenth floor, and they enter another waiting area, this one with an unoccupied sleek obsidian desk at the front.

“I’m pretty sure most people have gone home for the day, which makes this the perfect time to show you around.” He leads her down a long hallway lined with offices separated by glass walls. A few people linger, simply glancing up or giving an occasional wave as they pass. “The perk of being the owner’s son is that I can enter after hours.”

Charlie knew his father owned his own firm, but she always pictured something small, more dusty and old-school and less shiny and modern. But it makes sense that Quinn & Sons would be sleek and corporate andrich, considering the clientele they defend.

At the end of the hall is an office she can already tell is the largest on the floor. Wes pushes open the door, and her gaze immediately snaps to the floor-to-ceiling windows lining two sides of the room.