Just a Girl - Becky Monson Page 0,81

it’s the truth for so many reasons. “And even if I were, what are the chances of them snapping a picture of us together and it somehow getting back to Dwayne or someone else at work?”

“I get it, Quinn. I know it sounds preposterous. But it would be my luck to take a chance and be caught. I don’t expect you to fully understand the enormity of my situation. I just need time.”

I don’t know why this rubs me so wrong. The insecure part of my brain wonders if maybe Henry doesn’t want to be seen with me. I tamp that down, because before this whole work thing happened, he had no problems being out in public with me. But still, there’s something there, something I can’t place my finger on.

“I’m trying to understand, I am. But how long, Henry?”

“How long?” The space above his nose squishes together.

“How long will we have to be in secret? Going between our two places?”

He looks downward for a beat and then back up at me. “I don’t know, Quinn. This job is all new for me. I—” He stops himself, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. “I can’t tell you how long.”

“Weeks? Months? Years?” I say, my mind starting to take off on a gallop. How long would I be willing to keep this up?

He shakes his head. “Definitely not years,” he says. He reaches out and grabs my hands in his.

“But . . . months.”

“I hope not.” He looks me in the eyes. “Just give me time, Quinn. Please.”

The pleading look in his eyes softens my annoyance. I lean back into him, chest to chest. Our faces inches away. “Don’t make me wait too long, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” Henry says, erasing the space between us and kissing me soundly on the mouth.

Okay, so this isn’t the best scenario. This isn’t exactly what I wanted in a relationship with Henry. But this is all that’s being offered right now. And it’s all so new, all so fresh, I shouldn’t jump to conclusions anyway. Maybe it will end up being a few weeks until he’s comfortable. Plus, I know what happened. I know why he’s being so careful about this. Isn’t it selfish of me to expect things from him? If the tables were turned, wouldn’t I ask the same of him?

But even as I think this, as I realize that I can do this for Henry, at least for now, Thomas’s voice comes into my mind: Classic Quinn. Settling.

This is different. I’m not settling. It’s a temporary thing.

Definitely not settling.

Chapter 21

“So, you and Henry,” Holly says, wineglass in hand, her sidekick Logan next to her. It’s Monday, and I’m with my group of friends at Hester’s. Everyone’s here. Bree, Alex, and Thomas.

I love how she brings this up so nonchalantly. Like she doesn’t know every detail since I called and told her everything. Normally, I would have called her immediately, but since Tuesday, I’ve either been at work or I’ve been with Henry. There just hasn’t been the time. Then we played phone tag until I finally got a hold of her on Saturday morning and gave her every little detail.

“Oh, so Henry’s the flavor of the week again,” Thomas says, with a double eyebrow raise.

“I don’t have a flavor of the week,” I say.

“Oh, that’s right. That’s Bree,” he says, giving Bree a cockeyed grin.

If looks could kill, the one Alex just gave Thomas would have easily put him six feet under.

“You’re just sad because you’ve never been my flavor,” Bree says, not taking the bait. Though I did catch something in her eyes. Hurt, maybe? It’s hard to say—Bree isn’t the type of girl to care about words. Especially from Thomas.

Thomas guffaws, obnoxiously. “Please. We’re not each other’s flavor.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” she says, her voice a low growl.

“So, about Henry,” Alex says, clearly trying to keep Thomas and Bree off this train they were about to jump on.

“Right,” I say. “Not much to tell. We’re . . . together now.” I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face, the tingle that runs up and down my spine.

We’ve been together every night since Tuesday, having dinner at each other’s apartments. Kissing, snuggling, watching movies. We talk about everything under the sun, not skirting around anything. Well, except for the fact that Henry won’t go out in public with me. But I didn’t expect that to change—it hasn’t even been a week.

It still weighs on me.