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Dallas’ fingers slipped on the button of her jeans, but she

flexed them, tried again, and got it done up. “Oh. Well- I- my

flight. I…”

“I just thought that because you’ve already missed it…”

“I- I did take some time off work, but I’m just not sure that

I can- that it would be a good idea for me to crash her party

like that.”

“You wouldn’t be crashing it.”

Dallas stared at her suitcase instead of looking at Quinn.

Quinn felt the ice start to bunch up and dam in her veins. God,

am I really this dumb? We had sex. So what? It’s not like it

meant anything monumental. Obviously. A person doesn’t just

stay and things don’t magically just get fixed because people

go to bed with each other. In fact, that seemed like a very

obvious way to make things more screwed up. She realized

how juvenile it was of her to just think that Dallas would want

to stick around, even for a few more days. She’d put it out

there though, and now she couldn’t just take it back.

Quinn tried hard to make herself regret what they’d just

done, but her brain refused to produce the right chemicals.

“Ugh,” Quinn snapped. “You’re such a butt hole. I should

have known that you’d still leave. That even though you could

stay for a little while and see everyone, that you wouldn’t.”

Dallas’ nose wrinkled. Her brows drew together. “It’s been

a long time since someone called me a butt hole. I forgot we

used to call everyone that. I don’t know whether I should be

insulted or if that kind of makes my day.”

“You should be insulted,” Quinn sniffed. Her insults

apparently weren’t up to par if Dallas was smiling at her

instead of being offended, like she should be.