Chapter 6

Quinn’s apartment was almost exactly as Kiera had pictured, all clean surfaces, industrial, and modern. Somehow, there were still warm touches here and there—soft couches and armchairs, big pillows and throw blankets. It didn’t come across as harsh, just very…masculine. She lingered briefly, not wanting him to think she was up there spying through all his things, but she couldn’t stop herself from taking a quick lap around the place.

She paused at the fridge, smiling at the photographs pinned beneath magnets that had that signature style of his own creation. His entire family smiled back at her. Funny candids and posed stills of different Kavanaghs, plus birth announcements, wedding invitations, and even championship photos of Quinn and Kane together in the ring celebrating one of Kane’s wins. She knew Quinn had been Kane’s agent, but wasn’t sure if he was still doing that after his injury.

Moving to the dining area next, she picked up one of his chairs—happy it wasn’t too heavy—and started for the stairs. She was eager to get back to the studio and see Quinn in action—and even more eager to see this whole new side to him. His studio, his apartment, the whole building, really, were so amazingly unique, and the sculptures he’d created were breathtaking. He’d always been a doodler when they were kids, drawing little designs on his skin in ink, and on hers, too. It was no wonder he had so many tattoos now.

Metalwork was unexpected, though.

Her favorite piece stood in the middle of the studio, the figure of a woman entirely made of molded motorcycle parts and dark glass. Something about it was so sad, yet optimistic at the same time. She couldn’t believe the little boy who’d once teased her for having her sixteenth birthday at a paint-your-own-pottery store was the same man who created art from rusted old junk.

“I was beginning to think I’d have to come drag you back down here,” Quinn said as she rounded the corner and reentered the studio, carrying the chair over to his workbench.

She grinned sheepishly. “I didn’t take that long.”

“Keeks,” he said, a suspicious lilt to his voice as one corner of his lips tilted up into half a smile. “Were you snooping?”

She huffed, dropping the chair down with a clatter. “I certainly was not.”

“You’re lying,” he teased, a singsong tone to his voice as he sat down and turned to face the bench.

“I didn’t see anything that wasn’t out there to be seen,” she vaguely argued, leaning her elbows against the wooden table as she stood catty-corner from him. “That’s not snooping.”

“Whatever you say, Keeks.” He grabbed at some of the tools on the table and began talking her through his process.

They started simple, and honestly, she just watched him work, enjoying how passionate he was about it. She’d always thought his eyes were so dark they were almost black, but right now, they were sparkling. He spoke animatedly, flecks of light shining in his eyes as he beamed at her. It was an entirely different Quinn than the moody, sullen patient she’d been seeing the last few weeks. It was also an entirely different Quinn from her best friend, who’d always done what everyone else wanted and gone with the flow.

She’d never seen this side of him before—the individual who knew what he wanted, and was eagerly chasing it. He was in charge. He was commanding, and the flutter in her stomach turned into full-on heat as she watched his biceps flex while he soldered metal in front of her.

Kiera couldn’t deny it anymore. She was unbelievably attracted to him right now.

Not just to how he looked, because even with the cane at his side and the scars beneath his clothes, he was downright jaw-dropping. Sleek black hair that swept perfectly out of his face, dark eyes that smoldered when he looked at her, and a mouth that she’d never truly considered before, but now couldn’t stop staring at.

But none of that was why she felt an ache in her core, or her nipples pushing against the fabric of her shirt. She loved his passion, and the way he made sure she was careful and wouldn’t be hurt. She loved the way he guided her hands as he taught her, wanting to share this part of himself with her. She loved the way the sound of his laughter rumbled inside her when she made a joke, or how he blushed when she praised his work.

She loved Quinn—that was nothing new. But it felt different now, and she wanted to give in to every part of it. It felt like that brief flash of affection six years ago that she’d quickly shut down, sure it had been only a fluke.

“There you go,” he said, turning to her and holding out a thin bangle cuff that they’d just made from a tailpipe. It was sleek and shiny, resembling nothing of what it had come from. “It’s yours now.”

He slid it over her wrist, and she held out her hand, admiring the impromptu bracelet. “It’s gorgeous, Quinn.”

Her eyes moved past the bracelet to its creator, sitting back in his chair and staring at her. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but then closed it, and the silence suddenly bothered her. The space between them bothered her. She was completely overwhelmed by everything she’d seen tonight, everything he’d said, everything he was.

Stepping around the corner of the table, she leaned down and captured his face in her hands, pausing for only a moment to see his eyes widen and his tongue flicker across his lower lip. Then she kissed him—soft, slow brushes of her lips over his. A moan rumbled through his chest and his hands reached for her hips, grabbing and pulling her down until she was seated on his lap, both legs to one side of his body.

The kiss deepened, and he moved his hands to the back of her neck, wove his fingers through her hair. As if restless, he dropped them to her arms and skimmed them up and down. They wandered around to her back as he explored every inch of her mouth, his tongue diving between her lips.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on as she pushed her chest against his, needing to be closer, needing to be completely lost in him.

And she was.

Memories of their one night together flashed through her mind—the connection, the passion, the desire—and suddenly she couldn’t remember why she’d ever wanted him to be just a onetime thing. She wasn’t sure she could ever stop kissing him, stop feeling his arms circling her body or his lips nibbling hers. He moaned into her mouth, and she panted, unable to catch her breath but not caring.

Until suddenly, she was hoisted backward and off him.

Kiera gasped at the sudden movement, realizing he’d lifted her from his lap and stood her in front of him. Once she’d regained her balance, he let go and dropped his eyes, his head shaking.

“Keeks, I can’t do this,” he said, shattering the hopes she hadn’t even known she had into a million pieces. The look of pain on his face—sheer agony—wounded her as she tried to catch her breath.

“I’m sorry. I thought we both wanted…” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No, we did…we do, I do,” he tried again. “But I can’t.”

She waited for more, anything to explain what “I can’t” meant. She didn’t even know what she wanted him to say, not having any of the answers herself. “That’s it? You can’t?”

“Yes.”

She looked around the studio, mainly because she was feeling tears pricking the back of her eyes and she couldn’t let him see her cry. Instead, she cleared her throat and nodded, adjusting her shirt. “Okay. I’m going to get going.”

“You don’t have to leave, Kiera,” he said, but she waved her hand.

“Oh, I definitely need to leave before I humiliate myself further.” Grabbing her purse and jacket, she headed for the garage door. “I’ll see you Monday. Don’t forget your exercises.”

He said nothing, and she hadn’t expected him to, but it hurt nonetheless that he didn’t call after her and beg her to stay. But that was who Quinn had always been.

He’d never asked her to stay, and if he had…maybe things would be different.