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Catching Quinn
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- EXCERPT: “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Quinn demands, pulling herself up to her full height. Maybe that shit works on her brother, but I spent the afternoon staring down guys three times her size. “Are you drunk?” “No.” I point to her half-empty cup. “But if you finish that drink, you will be.” Her brows furrow in confusion. “What’s wrong with my drink?” Is she for real? “Other than the fact that it’s got five kinds of liquor in it?” “Five? Really?” She lifts the cup up and stares at it like she’s seeing it for the first time. “Huh. Who’d have guessed?” “Why do you think it’s called Adiós, Motherfucker? It’s meant to get you shitfaced.” She giggles, probably at the name, and I scrub a hand over my face. “If you don’t know what’s in it, why are you drinking it?” She cocks a hip. “Mike bought it for me.” Of course he did. “The asshole was probably trying to get you drunk and take advantage of you.” “Maybe I was trying to get him drunk and take advantage of him,” she says, poking me in the chest. Heat radiates from the spot where her finger landed, which is ridiculous because it wasn’t even skin-to-skin contact. Probably just leftover energy from the game. She pokes me again. “Did you ever think of that?” “No.” It’s bullshit, but I’m not trying to picture Quinn seducing some random creeper at a bar. “It did, however, occur to me he might’ve slipped something in your drink.” Quinn rolls those big green eyes. “I’m a virgin, not a moron. I took the drink directly from the bartender.” Thank Christ. Relief surges through my veins. How the fuck does Noah deal with having his little sister on campus? On Greek Row? For the first time in my life, I’m glad to be an only child. If I saw some dude playing grab-ass with my sister, I’d break his fucking hands. Quinn’s not your sister, so what do you care? I don’t. Okay, fine. I care. But only because I’m not a trash human being. “I can’t believe you chased Mike off.” Quinn’s bottom lip juts out, forming a sexy little pout. “It was rude.” “Serves the fucker right.” I plant my hands on my hips. If she thinks she can guilt me over Doctor Octopus, she’s got another thing coming. “Thirty seconds ago, he was dry humping you like a dog in heat.” “Eww.” She squeals, doing that cute nose scrunching thing again. “Gross.” I flash her a wicked grin. “Tell me about it.” “Did you just—” She tilts her head and looks up at me from under her lashes. “Did you just call me gross? “Sweetheart, there’s nothing gross about you.” That’s half the problem. If she’s really going through with this whole losing her virginity to a stranger thing, she’ll have no trouble finding dudes to volunteer as tribute. “From the looks of it, I arrived just in time.” “If by just in time, you mean just in time to cockblock me again, then yes.” She lifts the blue drink to her lips and takes a hearty gulp. “You can move along now.” She makes a shooing motion with her other hand. “Go wreck some other virgin’s night.” “Are you sure I didn’t save your night?” I cross my arms over my chest, and damn if her attention doesn’t lock on my biceps. Not gonna lie, I’m flattered. I figured her type was more studious. “That guy probably doesn’t even know what a G-spot is, let alone how to find it.” Her gaze shifts to my face, a challenge burning in her eyes. “I suppose you think you could do better?”
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