Eve of Samhain by Lisa Sanchez

and your arms flail about, this way and that. It’s quite funny.”
    “Well. So happy to be your source of amusement.” My voice filled with sarcasm, and my cheeks burned. I purposely threw my arms about for his benefit.
    Damn annoying faerie.
    Yeah, I was annoyed. But as pissy as I felt over his hidden voyeuristic escapade, I was equally as happy to see him smile. Those lips…that mouth…his whole Goddamn face—it lit up like the sun.
    His happiness was infectious and it drew me in with its warmth and comfort.
    “All right, all right,” he said, holding his hands out in front of him in surrender. “Sorry, love. Where are you off to next?”
    “I’m actually heading back to my place to shower before I go to class.” I swiped a nervous hand over my sweaty hair and cringed. While Quinn appeared ungodly handsome and good enough to eat, I looked a rank, nasty mess.
    “Let’s go then. I’ll walk you.” He moved from the wall and took off in the direction I’d been heading earlier. His divine, powerful scent permeated the air, and I practically drooled all over myself. The man smelled delish—masculine and sexy all rolled up into one intoxicating scent. I stifled the urge to sniff him repeatedly.
    “Should you maybe put your sweatshirt on?” He pointed to me with a brow raised, his oh-so-kissable lips turned down into a frown.
    My stomach seized up like I’d been kicked. He thought I looked fat. On fire from my workout, I hadn’t bothered to cover up and was now regretting that decision. Frankly, I was a bit shocked by his words. Size eight was on the larger end of medium, but I was certainly no contender for The Biggest Loser .
    He opened his mouth to say something only to slam it closed seconds later. His scowl grew exponentially as he eagle-eyed my clothes and scrubbed at his head in frustration. “You’re seriously not thinking of walking about outside like that, are ye?” He paced back and forth, one hand on his hip, the other rubbing the back of his nearly bald head.
    I looked away, hot tears forming in my eyes. Why was he being so cruel? Most guys liked ample T and A. I glanced down at myself. Nope. No muffin top, and the cellulite was covered. I wore a pair of shorts, a full Lycra tank and a sweatshirt wrapped around my waist.
    I crinkled my nose and shook my head. “Seriously? You think I look that bad?” I peered down the hallway, waiting for someone to harpoon me.
    He stopped pacing the narrow hallway and stood inches from me, feet wide and arms crossed. “What? Bad? No.” His eyes zeroed in on my cleavage. “Do you really think you ought to be showing off that much skin for every Tom, Dick, and Harry to see?”
    Ah…now we were getting to the heart of his question. Quinn didn’t want anyone looking at me dressed in skimpy workout clothes, not because he thought I looked fat, but because he thought I looked good. A rush of warmth traveled throughout my body. Quinn was jealous. My flushed skin was the only thing keeping me from exploding everywhere all at once.
    I bit down on the inside of my cheek, the sharp pain squashing the urge to squeal like a kid in a candy-store. Take that, skinny bitches of the world! The hot love faerie thought I looked good. “Here. Hold this.” I held out my iPod, which he took from me, taking care to not touch my hand with his own. I untied the sweatshirt from my waist and pulled it over my head. “There. Happy?”
    He dropped my iPod into my outstretched hand, his face wearing a whole lot of smug satisfaction. “Quite.”
    “Just so you know, I work out all the time, and this,” I said, sweeping my arm out in front of me, “is what I usually wear. And don’t forget, my work uniform isn’t much better.”
    Quinn shook his head and scowled. “Aye. Don’t remind me. Those tiny, little…”
    “Booty shorts?” I said, finishing his sentence for him. “Yeah, I have to wear those and the matching tank every time I work. Better get used to seeing a