Page 26 of Dad Next Door
It was Quinn.
“Shit,” I muttered, opening my text app.
Quinn: open your front door
Quinn: I’m outside and don’t want to wake up Leo
My heart fell. I’d hoped to have until tomorrow before I had to face him.
My stomach roiled with unease and shame.
Tristan: be right down
Bracing myself for the impending conversation, I made my way downstairs. Putting the bottle I was still clutching on the table in the foyer, I opened the front door.
Quinn stood there in a pair of low-slung sweats and a white t-shirt that was essentially transparent because of how wet it was. His expression was blank. Was that better than irate?
I stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind me so the dogs wouldn’t notice and none of my animals could escape.
“I’m so sorry,” I blurted. “I didn’t know you were out there until I did, and it was too late to stop looking, but I didn’t stop even though I should have and?—”
He raised his hand to silence me, a tiny smirk tipping up the corner of his mouth. “Breathe, Doc. You’re gonna pass out if you keep going like that.”
I did as he said, sucking in a breath and holding it in for a few beats.
“Can I say something?” he asked as I blew it out.
I nodded, ready for whatever dressing down he was about to unleash on me.
“So, did you like what you saw?” He smiled, his face the picture of serenity.
My jaw dropped like it had been unhinged.
He laughed. “You should see your face right now.”
I closed my mouth, shock taking over from my earlier shame and horror.
“Relax, Tris. I’m not here because I’m gonna chew you out or anything.”
“You’re not?” I blinked at him.
“Nope. I know you can see into my yard from your balcony. This is as much my fault for not closing the canopy.”
“You’re not mad?” I gaped at him.
“Why would I be mad about an accident?” He tucked his hands in the pockets of his sweats.
“I violated your privacy.”
“Not on purpose. And I make my living showing my junk on the internet. You’d see a hell of a lot more of me if you googled my stage name.”
My ears burned so hot I knew they had to be dark red.
“Are you okay? It looked like you opened the door on your face.”
I touched my forehead. “Yeah, I’m fine. Didn’t actually hit anything, just flailed like a moron.”
“I’m serious, Tris. This isn’t a big deal. I’m not mad, and you didn’t do anything wrong. Shit happens, and it’ll teach me to close my canopy if I don’t want anyone accidentally getting an eyeful.”