I handed the hose over to Joel and headed toward the front of the line along with Tracey and a couple other guys.
“Where can I find a spare rag?” I asked, looking around.
“There’s one in the bucket behind you.” Quinn pointed and then got started soaping up the passenger side of a blue sedan.
I hesitated for only a split second before joining him near the rear bumper. “I’ll start up front and meet you in the middle.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he said, stealing a quick glance out of the corner of his eye. My stomach swooped just from that small contact.
I began soaping up the front panel and despite our distance I could feel Quinn’s gaze press on me like a wall of heat. My skin tingled with anticipation. I thought of something to say. Just regular conversation. It had been so easy with him this morning when we had teamed up against the zombies.
But the exchange in the basement had been wholly different, and so my nervous energy had gotten the best of me. All I could think about was his mouth so close to my lips and how it would feel to be wrapped up in his embrace.
Thankfully Quinn had the wherewithal to break through the tension. “So, how long have you been a gamer?”
“Uh . . . not sure I’d call myself a gamer.” I stopped the motion of my soapy rag to look at him. “But I know a thing or two.”
“A thing or two?” he smirked. “You can totally hold your own, Ella. In Skyrim the other night you defeated Alduin at the Throat of the World. That’s damn impressive.”
I stifled a gasp. Maybe he had been paying attention all along.
“Guess I’ve been outed.” I grinned and dunked my rag in the soapy water again. “I grew up playing with my brothers. They loaned me their first-gen Xbox for my apartment—you know, the white console? Suppose it’s kinda what I do . . . in my spare time.”
When I looked up at him, he was watching me intently, his rag barely slopping over the dirty sections on the passenger door.
“You missed a few spots,” I said and stepped forward to help him out. To be closer to him as well. “I figured you’d be way more anal given that hot rod you drive around.”
His eyes lit up in a way I hadn’t noticed before. “Maintaining a vintage car is way more exciting than soaping up these cookie-cutter versions.”
“It sounds like it’s your hobby,” I said, tilting my head sideways as if that would give me a clearer view of him. “Do you restore cars, too?”
“I . . . I used to.” His eyes took on this faraway look, and I instantly wanted to know more. Way more. “But with classes and ball and stuff, it leaves little time.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I said. “Seems like it’s your thing. And if I’m right about that, then you should find the time.”
His bottom lip hung open as if he was considering what I’d said. Before he could respond, Lucy started shouting again. “Guys, we need to move faster. We’ve got five cars waiting.”
“Guess we’d better step it up,” Quinn said and then rounded the car to finish the back windshield.
As the day wore on and the cars stopped coming, some of the guys fired up the grill and brought out the keg. We cleaned up the parking lot and brought the party back over to the frat house. We dried off, ate burgers and hot dogs, and drank some more beer.
Jimmy and Quinn took off for baseball practice. Quinn hadn’t had had a beer in his hand all morning, which told me how dedicated he was to his sport. Jimmy on the other hand, was cut off about an hour ago. Quinn had to remind him that coach would kick him off the team if he showed up drunk.
I walked home to change out of my wet clothes with Avery and Rachel. I hadn’t had to twist Avery’s arm too hard to help out today. She knew the cause was close to my heart. In fact, she clamped her mouth shut the moment I said the words childhood depression.
Avery was heading off to work at the nursing home and Rachel was coming to the frat house with me. They were having another party—a bonfire—that night and she hoped to hook up with one of the ballplayers once they returned from their practice. Jimmy had said he’d bring back some guys from the team, and she had her eye on the third baseman, Sam Riggins.
I considered not going to the frat house and saving my talk with Joel for the morning, when he was sober. But it was tough to dissuade the melancholy rising up in my throat at the thought of saying my final good-byes. And deep down I knew that I needed to see Quinn again.
“So, what’s going on, bitch?” Avery asked as we turned the corner to our street.
“What do you mean?” Damn, she was observant. Almost to a fault.
“What I mean is, your stupid-ass boyfriend is drunk again and he was checking out all the other half-naked chicks at the car wash,” she said, and I cringed. “And you’re busy checking out tall and gorgeous Quinn.”
“Quinn?” Rachel asked, and I almost murdered Avery for saying it out loud. I wasn’t ready to discuss it yet. “Damn, that boy is hot. Made out with him at the fall fest last year. He’s got a pair of lips on him that would . . .”
“Okay, TMI, asshat,” I said, shutting her down.
Rachel raised her brows at me. I’d never cared when she spoke of her conquests before. She always told hilarious and sexy stories, but hearing that she’d kissed Quinn brought out the green-eyed monster in me. Where in the hell had that come from?
“See what I mean?” Avery said. “Did something happen between the two of you?”
“No!” I said a little too quickly. But I couldn’t shake Avery’s penetrating stare. “Well, kinda. Sorta.”
“What?” Rachel said. “Ms. Loyal-to-a-Fault has something going on the side with Quinn? The hot guy who never hooks up with anyone? Now I’m jealous. Spill it, bitch.”
“Nothing happened,” I said, almost tripping over a branch in my path. “I can just tell there’s something between us. Ever since he helped me that one night in the bathroom a couple of weeks ago.”
Both of my friends remained silent, waiting on more juicy details. I sighed. “Every time we see each other there’s so much damn tension between us. At first I thought maybe it was just one-sided. But not anymore.”
“Then do something about it,” Rachel said, hooking her arm through mine as we strode toward our building. “Break it off with what’s-his-face first, since I know you’re not the cheating type.”
“How are you feeling about Joel?” Avery asked sliding the key into our lock. “I know I’ve been vocal about him lately. I just care about you, girl.”
“I know,” I said, slipping inside and yanking off my shoes. “I’m starting to feel . . . indifferent. Kinda numb.”
Avery tugged her hair from her ponytail and shook out her blond locks. “If Quinn weren’t in the picture, taking up room in your thoughts, how would you feel?”
“I don’t know,” I said. She’d brought up a good point. “You know things haven’t been right for a long time.”
“Then why are you hanging in there when there’s plenty of hot-guy ass all around you?” Rachel asked, wagging her eyebrows at me.
I threw her a look. She knew that was nothing like me.
“Okay, okay,” she said, folding herself into the couch. “Just Quinn ass.”
“Why are you hanging in there?” Avery asked, grabbing us bottled waters from the refrigerator.
“I don’t have a good answer. Been asking myself that question for awhile now.” I took a long swig of water. It helped wash down the anxiety bubbling in my throat. “He knows my family. And he coached Christopher.”
“That’s not a reason to stay with someone, ass,” Avery said. “Even Christopher would be shaking his head at you.”
I knew she was right. Somehow I had veered way off course in the last couple of months. I may not have been as bold or outspoken as my two friends were. But in my own way, I knew how to stand up for myself and go after what I wanted.