Crazy For You by Jennifer Crusie

looked over her shoulder, as suspicious of the world as ever.
    “Okay, I know I’m being thick,” Darla said when they were in her car, waiting for the heater to thaw their blood, “but could you please explain how you can just move out on a guy you’ve been with for two years?”
    “I wasn’t with him.” Quinn held on to Katie as the dog put her paws on the window and anxiously surveyed the sidewalk for enemies. “I was just sort of next to him. He asked me to go to the third baseball championship party, and he was sweet and we started dating, and then he started leaving things at my apartment a little at a time until he was all moved in, and then he found this apartment and moved us here, and I never really said yes to any of it. He’s just patient and he never quits and eventually, there he is, right where he wants to be. And I don’t want to be there. I didn’t realize it until he took Katie to the pound, but I don’t want to be where he is.” She shivered a little, and Katie transferred her attention, evidently sensing that the trouble was inside the car, not outside. “He came to the art room today, acting like nothing was wrong, like I was just visiting my mom and dad, like he assumed I’d be back any time. He’s sort of giving me the creeps.” Quinn patted Katie for comfort, and the dog curled up her lap, keeping nervous eyes on her. “Could we please go somewhere else? I’m supposed to go to the real estate office to pick up a list of apartments from Mom. Let’s go there.”
    Darla put the car in gear. “Well, once Nick gets the books, you’ll be out of there, and even Bill will have to see you’re not coming back. How’d you talk Nick into getting involved, anyway? I’d have thought he’d have headed for the hills to avoid being in the middle of this.”
    Quinn thought of Nick the night before, solid and warm next to her in the truck, solid and hot on the couch. “He’s a good guy,” she said, trying to make it sound offhand.
    Darla slowed to make the turn onto Main Street. “Am I missing something?”
    “I think Nick almost kissed me last night,” Quinn blurted, and then felt stupid and relieved at the same time.
    Darla pulled over and parked the car.
    “The real estate office is another two blocks,” Quinn said.
    “Yes, but the interesting stuff is happening here.” Darla looked more appalled than interested. “He kissed you?”
    “I said almost.” Quinn squirmed a little in the seat, to Katie’s dismay. “We were on the couch talking and he stopped and we looked at each other for a long time, you know?”
    “I think so,” Daria said. “One of those long looks that starts out a regular Hello and then turns into Hello?”
    Quinn nodded, patting the dog quiet. “But then he stood up and said, ‘You aren’t like this,’ and left.”
    Darla slumped in her seat. “Oh, boy. I don’t know. You and Nick?”
    “There is no me and Nick.” But there could be. “There was a nice little zing for that nanosecond between the time when I realized he was looking at me like he wanted me and the time when he got up and ran. But he got up and ran just the same.”
    Darla stared out the windshield. “Zing, huh?”
    Quinn nodded. “There was more zing in him not kissing me than there was in the two years Bill was kissing me. Definite zing.‘”
    “The zing doesn’t last,” Darla said, and Quinn jerked around at the flatness in her voice. “Well, it doesn’t. So if you’re leaving Bill because of no zing—” She shook her head. “A good guy, one who’s faithful and who loves you? That beats zing.”
    “No, it doesn’t.” Quinn eyed Darla cautiously. Darla would talk about her problem only when she was good and ready. Was she good and ready?
    “You can’t keep excitement forever,” Darla said. “It goes. And then you have to settle for what you’ve got, and if you’ve got a really good guy, that’s enough, that’s more than enough, that’s fine. Maybe Bill