I blurted before my brain could stop the words. “Why are you even interested in me?” I closed my eyes and scrunched my face as mortification (from me) and stillness (from him) greeted my question. My self-recrimination was swift: Don’t ask that question; he might not have an answer. I heard a soft click-click then silence. I opened my eyes and looked at the report on my desk without really seeing it. “Quinn?” There was no answer. I swallowed thickly. “Quinn? Are you still there?” “That’s not a conversation I want to have over the phone.” Quinn’s voice came from my left.
