Page 106 of Under Pressure

“Lie?”

“You may be in love with her, but you’re not her boyfriend. Not when I brought up my grandson, and not now. Why is that?”

I flinch. Not because the words hurt, but because she’s right, and up until now, it was a secret only I knew. I’m under no falsepretense that I’ve been secretive in the slightest, but to have someone so close to Quinn—maybe the one person on this Earth other than Callie who knows her the best—call me out on it? Fuck, has Quinn figured it out, too?

If she does, she hasn’t run.

“You never bought it, then?” I ask, my tone tense.

“Not in the way she wanted me to. I may spend my days working back here, but I’m not trapped under lock and key. I’ve seen the two of you interact multiple times, and Quinn wasn’t some lovesick fool over you. When she told me otherwise, I was intrigued by how she was going to prove it to me. Turns out that she didn’t have to try very hard.” She wipes her hands on a wet rag. “I’m more surprised that she genuinely fell for you when she’d been so adamant on not doing so before.”

I take a weak step back toward the sink and clutch the rounded edge. “You think she has?”

“Fallen for you?”

“Yes.”

“I’d have thought that was obvious by now.”

I feel like I’m choking on my own tongue. “Right.”

“You don’t think so?”

“She was clear on the rules between us.”

Ruthie rolls her eyes, heaving a sigh. “I bet she was. And I’m still telling you that she’s fallen for you just as hard as you’ve fallen for her. I know that girl out there, and her heart is hard-earned. Whatever her rules were, they’re no longer in play, even if she’s trying to pretend otherwise. Quinn keeps herself guarded for a good reason. Her walls are hard to penetrate because if they weren’t, there’d be nothing of her left to protect. The way she grew up ensured that.”

“She doesn’t talk to me about her past. Only her grandma, and even then, it hasn’t been much. Just a few memories.”

The determination in Ruthie’s gaze dims a bit, making room for what I assume to be sympathy. It makes my shoulders rise uncomfortably.

“I know. If she had, you’d know the true depth of her feelings for you.”

Scratching my arm, I ask, “How do I get her to talk to me?”

“Be patient.”

“I’m scared she’ll take off before she trusts me completely,” I admit, tasting the fear on my tongue.

“So hold her tighter in your arms and show her that she can be safe there.”

I part my lips, prepared to tell her that it isn’t going to be as easy as she’s making it seem. But the kitchen door swings open, and my eyes fling to Quinn’s silhouette. I focus on the box of assorted pastries in her arms and the collection of drinks tucked in the corner of it. Without a second thought, I step forward and take the box from her.

With a simple wave at Ruthie, she tugs me through the kitchen and to the stairs leading up to her place. “I’m bringing the guys upstairs something to eat. They’ve got to be finishing up today, right?”

“They should be.”

“Good. I’m excited to be back in my own place.”

I nearly trip up the stairs. “Is staying with me so bad?”

“What? No, of course not. I just miss being at home.”

Male voices erupt from the top of the stairs, and I bite my tongue to keep from telling her how wrong those words sound to me. I know she didn’t mean anything by them, but I want her to think of me as her home. It’s selfish and not something I should be blaming her for, yet here I am, angry that she sees this empty apartment as more of a home than the one I’ve tried to give her the last couple of weeks.

“Quinn! Perfect timing,” my uncle cheers, stepping up to the landing. “We should be finishing up in the next couple of hours.”

I glare at him over the back of Quinn’s head. He spots me lurking behind her and smirks. Suddenly, I contemplate if Icould get away with throwing one of these coffees I’m holding into his face.