Page 69 of Intersect

“Tell me anyway.”

I sigh, turning to face him while he opens the car door. “She said it’s not just the twins who are powerful, that my gift is meant to be shared.”

His jaw flexes. “You’re right. I don’t like it.”

She predicted his reaction too. “And she also said overcoming my fear was only half the battle. Overcoming yours is the other half.”

His mouth is set in a grim line. “Quinn—”

I open the door, shoulders sagging in resignation. “I know. I know what I promised.”

I think of Darcy. I’m still not sure it’s a promise I should have made.

36

QUINN

By the time we land at Dulles, Nick’s received an email from the hospital board, who examined our photos and deemed that the relationship was not a breach of ethics. Unfortunately, this means they expect him to report to work the next day.

I lean my head against his shoulder as we ride home from the airport. “I was really looking forward to a few days with you, where no one has imminent death hanging over their heads.”

He pulls me closer. “We can get away for a few days next month. Let me just get all my patients taken care of and put in for leave.”

“Doctors get to put in for leave,” I pout. “Students do not.”

I see a quick flash of his dimple. “I bet your professors would understand if you missed a day or two because you were on your honeymoon.”

I laugh. He’s relentless—this is at least the fifth time he’s brought up marriage—but I sort of love it. “What would everyone say? I just called off my last engagement a month ago.”

“I don’t give a fuck what they’d say,” Nick replies. “When we hit our 50th wedding anniversary, they’ll know they were wrong.”

“You really pick the most romantic places to discuss this,” I reply as the driver turns onto our street. “Hospital, cab ride. I’m assuming you’ll propose while I’m peeing or vomiting next."

“Those weren’t proposals.” He grins. “Believe me, when I propose, it’ll be memor—”

His words are cut off by a low groan. My low groan.

Jeff is sitting on our front steps.

“What the fuck?” Nick snaps.

“My mom.” I smack my head. “She must have told him when we were getting in.”

“I think it’s time you have a conversation with your mom about who she’s providing information to,” he says. “Stay in the car. I’ll deal with this.”

“If I’m capable of stabbing my own mother,” I reply, climbing out after him and ignoring the driver’s gaping mouth, “I’m capable of dealing with Jeff.”

Nick turns toward the walkway and sets the bags down in front of him. “Get off my property,” he says. His voice is flat, calm, but somehow far more threatening that way. “I’ve already kicked your ass once and I’d be more than happy to do it again.”

“I want to talk to Quinn,” Jeff says, moving toward us.

I step forward and Nick gives me the side-eye. “You never listen,” he mutters.

I glance up at him, trying not to smile, before I turn back to Jeff. “Say what you have to say.”

Jeff’s eyes shift to Nick. “I don’t want him here.”

Nick growls in response. “If you think I’m leaving you alone with her, you’re out of your mind.”