Page 24 of Savage Suit

“Yo, dude, what the fuck’s wrong with you?” Quinn snapped her fingers in front of my face again. “You’re dick deprived? Should I leave, so you and Mr. Rabbit could have a liaison?”

Her words snapped me to the present, and I narrowed my eyes. “Are you sure I didn’t fuck a random stranger the night of the ball?”

She scowled and turned away. “How many times are you going to ask me this, Ryan?” she snapped. “It sounds as if youwantto have fucked a man and—”

“That isn’t true!” I protested. Everything Mama and Daddy said the last time I saw them would be true. It would also set a fucked-up example for Quinn.

“And I would do a fucking happy dance under a midnight moon if that was the case,” she said without missing a beat. “What makes you bring this tired subject up again?”

“I was a little sore,” I mumbled. Confessing my lackluster sex life shouldn’t have embarrassed me. On the contrary, as Quinn’s mother figure, I should’ve rejoiced. Yet, somehow, I still felt I’d failed her. If I had set an example with a stable relationship, maybe she would try one. “I’m asking you point-blank: did I have sex at the masquerade ball? Is there a possibility I had sex? Tell me the truth, and I won’t be angry you didn’t admit it at first.”

Quinn averted her eyes. “You didn’t have sex, Ryan.” Annoyance filled her concise words.

“It felt like I had sex.”

She glared at me. “Did you smell like cum and cologne?” she demanded.

“No, I smelled of soap.” A thought occurred to me. “My panties to the set I bought to wear with the gown were missing.” Eyes widening, I gasped. It should’ve been nothing but shame rising. However, it was also heat and lust and desire. Not toward whoever I’d fucked. No. It was for Noah, and that made it ten times worse. I wanted to die. “Oh, my God. Quinn! Ididfuck a stranger.”

I cringed. My conscience preferred if I pretended I’d fucked that savage asshole. I shied away from thinking about what my parents would’ve said. The names they would’ve hurled my way. Daddy would’ve screamed them, but Mama wouldn’t have corrected him. She would’ve stood by while he ripped me to shreds, then slapped the shit out of me and told me how ashamed she was of me. Then, they would’ve walked out the door, ignoring my sobs and Quinn’s pleas to go with them. We’d never see them again. Their displeasure and disgust would be their last words to me. I’d never be able to show them they hadn’t failed at raising me.

A shudder went through me. If only the scenario was conjecture instead of reality.

I hated the times I remembered… No, I wouldn’t do it. My parents were gone, and no one was perfect. What had happened had hurt me deeply, but they’d only wanted the best for me. But, of course, if Armani hadn’t opened her big fucking mouth about my birth control…

“Ryan?” Quinn chimed, snapping her fingers in front of my face yet again. When my gaze flew to hers, she shook her head in disapproval. “Get out of your head, girl. The place where you always torment yourself for all your sins and failures toward Logan and me.”

“Ihavefailed if you lied to me about something so important!”

“Ryan!” Quinn growled. “I didn’t lie to you. We found you in bed,aloneand asleep, still drunk off your fucking ass—”

“Was I only drunk? That wasn’t the first time I’ve over imbibed.”

She covered her face with her hands, then threw them up. “Fine. My date might’ve given you a downer too, but it was just to relax you.”

Staring at Quinn, I wondered where I’d gone wrong. “Do you use illicit drugs?”

“Sometimes,” she said quietly. “But not the hard stuff. Just pills.”

“Quinn—”

“I don’t want to hear a lecture. This isn’t about me. It’s about you. Remember? You can’t even have a fucking crisis without worrying aboutme. When the fuck will you realize you have a life too, and I have a fucking brain? I havechoices, Ryan. Free will. It doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It just means I’m an adult. So, back toyourmeltdown.”

My head pounded. “Let’s just drop the subject. You said it didn’t happen, so I believe you.”

I’d awakened in my apartment late the next afternoon following the night of the ball. My sister had been there, ready to tend to my hangover.

Amid the vomiting and the headaches, memories of the encounter swirled in my head. I’d demanded the truth from Quinn. It was a figment of dick deprivation, she’d insisted.

“Stop worrying about a phantom fuck,” Quinn drawled. “You have bigger problems.”

Yep, I sure did. My financial situation was so dire, it grew harder to pay rent. With each passing day, I inched closer and closer to homelessness. Or stripping.

Or worse, Armani’s house. My siblings and I had grown remarkably close since Logan turned eighteen. Not wanting to return to the house I grew up wasn’t a lie. Nowadays, I couldn’t stand Armani’s cockhole of a husband, Timothe. He was a schemer, and I had no clue what she saw in the man. I loved my nieces and nephews, but because of Armani and Timothe’s multitude of children, she’d never think of leaving him, so I’d long ago accepted him as a permanent member of our family.

Before moving in with them, I’d live on the fucking streets. My small savings and occasional gig as their babysitter kept me afloat. But, week by week, my stored away money was depleted, so my routine wasn’t cutting it.

“For God’s sake, you have wet dreams! A distraction would be good for you,” Quinn blared when I remained silent.