“What the hell do I have to do to get your attention? Do I need to get up there?” I throw an arm toward the stage. His eyes swell for just a second, in shock. He reaches forward to hold my hands, but he catches himself in time and instead folds them across his chest. “Believe me, you have my full attention.”

“Why do you do that?” Torrin’s voice echoes in the empty hall. His hand is holding my arm gently, not at all like Derek does. I can’t have this. I can’t. I shouldn’t have ever come here with him. I draw in a shaky breath and pull my arm away. “Do what?” “Walk away every time I ask you something personal?” I stare hard at him. “Why do you do that? He blinks. “Huh?” “Ask so many questions.” His mouth drops open and closes and five long seconds pass before he says, “It’s what people do, Quinn. When they’re getting to know each other.” I shake my head and spin toward the door. “You don’t want to get to know me.”

“I'm not going to be a distraction for you, or allow you to be one for me.""A distraction?" He folded his arms across his chest. "Is that what you think you are? What I am? Bloody hell, woman. I need something to distract me from you!”

“Do you wish me to continue my demonstration?" "Of what? You ability to control my physical movements or your unwanted attentions?" She returned his glare as she deliberately wiped her hand across her mouth. His eyes narrowed. "I don't recall you protesting too loudly," he snapped.”

“Claybourne grabbed his arm, stopping his forward movement. “Do we have a plan?”“Get Emma out alive and I don’t care who the hell dies in the bloody process.” Breaking free of the hold, Swindler began running toward the gate.“I do hope he’s not including us in the ‘who the hell dies’ arena,” he heard Greystone mutter.“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you,” Dodger responded. “I do believe the man’s in love.”

“So you were checking up on me?" I aks"No," Noah says. He puts a faux-shocked look on his face, then turns back to his magazine, pretending to be engrossed. I take the magazine our of his hand and toss it back onto the table."That's good," I say, "That you weren't checking up on me. Because I'm totally fine.""I know." He shrugs."And I don't need to be checked up on.""Definitely not.""I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself.""Perfectly.""So we agree.""Yup.""So then where are you clothes?""What?""Your clothes," I say. "Where are your clothes? You came to the Laundromat so you must have some clothes." I fold my arms across my chest and wait,"Oh, my clothes," he says, giving me an easy grin. "I didn't come here to do laundry.""Oh, really?" I say. "The what were you here to do?""I was here," he says, rolling his eyes like it should be obvious, "so I could go across the street to Cooley's and check my schedule for the week.""And you just happened to see me coming into the Laundromat?""Exactly,”