I hate that most women would happily f**k him, no questions asked. I know the reason behind it was for our benefit, but it still pisses me off. I don’t like this feeling of uncertainty, and I certainly don’t like this feeling of raging jealousy I experience every time someone loses their s**t over Quinn—which is all the time.
I don’t realize I’m grinding down on my jaw until the cart stops with a jerk, and I fall forward.
Snapping out of my daze, I meet Quinn’s stare. “W-what happened?”
“I stopped the elevator,” he replies coolly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning up against the mirrored wall.
“Why?”
“Because we’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong.” I lunge for the control panel to start the elevator. But Quinn slaps my hand away.
“Bull
