He drooped with an added helping of guilt. “The team went out to dinner, and we ran late. I didn’t want to text and wake you up.”
Her eyebrows arched, and a little smile played across her face. “What was her name?”
His spine went ramrod straight. Why was it his mother could still make all his defenses snap into place? With one look, one word. “Who?”
“The girl you brought back here. The one you just took home.”
Shit! “Does it matter?”
“Not if it doesn’t matter to you, and I’m guessing it doesn’t. I take it I won’t be meeting this one either.”
He ran his hand over the back of his head to mask the squirming inside his body.
“You’re fidgeting.” A hint of amusement laced her words.
“You’re not helping,” he fired back. “And what do you mean by you won’t be ‘meeting this one either’?”
She flipped her hand. “You never introduce me to your girlfriends. Not that I could keep them straight if you did. I’d need a color-coded chart.”
How would she know? It wasn’t as if he’d ever paraded them past her. On purpose. Most of Quinn’s hooking-up happened on the road, where he kept things casual with about a dozen girlfriends in different cities—a third as many as his teammates gave him credit for, a misconception he’d never bothered to correct.
He found a certain advantage in staying away from the local talent. The out-of-town women knew the score, and if they tried to change the rules, any possible drama remained contained, geographically speaking. They were down to fuck without strings, which suited him perfectly. Denver hookups, on the other hand, might be down at first but had the potential to turn needy, hunting him down in his favorite hometown hotspots. Like Dory. That’s what he got for playing in his own backyard—with the same person more than once.
He let out a slow exhale and reminded himself he needed to limit sex to the road again. If he got back on the road. In his own defense, that very question had played on his mind when he’d decided to take advantage of what Dory offered because who knew when he’d get laid again? As it was, he’d been pretty damn proud of himself for turning down the opportunity to include her girlfriend. A modicum of logic had cut through the murk of lust and made him consider his mom catching him with two, though he’d never expected to be caught with the one in the first place.
“Tell me something, Quinnie.”
Quinnie. No one but his mom had ever called him that—maybe his brother when he was riding his ass—and it had been a long, long time since he’d heard it. It sounded strange but kind of nice. “Mmm?”
“Do you have anything in common with them besides … Well, besides the obvious?”
He burst out with a laugh—the wrong reaction, judging by her disapproving frown. “Mom, you’re killing me here! A mother and son should not be talking about this sh—stuff.”
She side-eyed him. “It’s no different than talks I’ve had with Ronan.”
Quinn didn’t bother hiding his surprise. “You’ve talked to Ronan about his, uh, love life?”
She shrugged. “Before he married Jennifer and settled down.”
Quinn’s throat contracted at the reminder of Ronan and Jen, and he felt as though he were trying to swallow past a piece of barbed wire. “You so sure Ronan has ‘settled down,’ Mom?” Ronan had been the biggest manwhore Quinn had ever known—which was saying something—and from the way he bragged whenever he talked to Quinn, didn’t sound like the guy had changed his ways. Douche.
“He’d better not to be running around on Jen. Do you know something I don’t?”
Shit, why had he even brought it up? Because he didn’t like his brother, and anytime he could make him look bad—especially in front of either of his parents—it was a rare Quinn win. He was extremely fond of those.
“No. He just likes to talk up what a big man he is.”
“Have you ever considered that’s strictly for your benefit?”
“My benefit? Why?”
She squared up her body so she faced him. “You two have been competing with each other since you were born. Your brother may be two years older, but he envies you. You snatched the golden ring that was out of his reach.”
Without thinking, he blurted, “Is that why he stole the girl I was dating?”
His mother drew in a sharp breath and let it out slowly. “Oh, Quinn, I thought you’d gotten past that. You and Jennifer weren’t—”
“Just because she and I weren’t serious didn’t make it okay for him to make a move on her. I mean, who does that? Especially to their own flesh and blood?” Jen was sweet, fun, and cute, and Quinn had been dating her a few months when Ronan met her. Truth be told, Quinn hadn’t been ready to take it to the next level with her—might not ever have been, though she was the rare one who had made him at least ponder the possibility. Apparently, she had been ready because shortly thereafter she’d broken it off with Quinn. Not long after that, she was pregnant and on her way to the altar. With Ronan.
Though Quinn had closed that chapter of his life years ago, the betrayal still stung. Not to mention that the occasional family get-together was awkward as hell.
His mother’s voice dragged him back to the present. “If he’s bragging about other women—and God help him if it’s true because I will beat him black and blue—it’s only because he wants to sound as if he’s outdoing you.”
“Really? I understand competitive streaks, Mom. I absolutely do. But if that’s the reason Ronan took my girl and mouths off about conquests? No, that’s totally jacked-up.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was still a sore spot.”
“It’s not,” Quinn sighed. “All I’m saying is even if Ronan’s full of it, he shouldn’t be talking
