Free Crazy For You by Jennifer Crusie Page A

sonofabitch.”
    He winced at the memory now. Christ, sixteen and he’d been scoping her out. Of course, he’d only been nineteen, so it wasn’t as if he were doing it now.
    He thought of Quinn in that gold leopard bra she’d thrown in one of the bags. Yeah, he’d matured.
    “If you ever cheat on me, Nick Ziegler,” Zoe had said, “I’ll just leave you flat. But if you ever touch my sister, I’ll cut your liver out with my manicure scissors and then I’ll leave you flat.” Since Zoe never made idle threats, he’d pretty much stopped looking at Quinn entirely. His marriage had been in enough trouble at that point without Quinn and the manicure scissors. Zoe had bolted about three months later to his surprised but great relief, and he’d forgotten her and Quinn and all of Tibbett while he’d finished his four years with Uncle Sam and then used the GI Bill to collect a business degree with a minor in English poetry. The poetry was dynamite for seducing girls, the girls who had contributed to the ease with which he’d pushed the McKenzie sisters to the back of his mind. By the time he’d come back home, Quinn was teaching art and involved with Greg somebody, a good guy, and that was enough to make her safe again while he quoted Donne and Marvell to surprised but impressed Tibbett women, and the manicure scissors faded to a vague memory.
    His mind went back to Quinn in that leopard bra. Somehow he didn’t think Bill was going to feel the same relief about Quinn bolting that he’d felt about Zoe’s leaving.
    He sure wouldn’t.

    Upstairs, Quinn took notepaper out of the desk and sat down at the stripped pine dining-room table.
    Dear Bill , she wrote.
    Now what? All right, she was furious with him about the dog, but he deserved a note. After two years, he really deserved a note.
    I’m moving out.
    Well, that was good. To the point.
    It’s not just because of Katie...
    But a lot of it was. He’d just taken her dog, as if what she wanted didn’t matter. He thought she’d get over it. He didn’t know her at all.
    ...but what happened with Katie has made me realize that we don’t know each other at all.
    Of course, that was probably her fault. She’d never really made him look at her, never said, “I don’t agree,” never said, “I really want a dog,” while she was giving up all the ones she’d found. It really was her fault. She couldn’t stay with him, she absolutely couldn’t stay with him after the pound thing, but she didn’t need to be nasty about it, create hard feelings, make things difficult for everybody.
    This is all my fault for not being honest with you, but I know now we’re too different and it would never have worked out for us.
    That sounded good, reasonable. She really didn’t have much more to say, so she just scribbled the end to her letter— I’m moving in with Mom and Dad until I can find my own place. I’ll be back to pick up my books later, and I’ll leave the key then. She almost signed it Love, Quinn from habit, but she stopped. She didn’t love him. She’d never loved him. She’d liked him enough to stay with him because she hadn’t disliked him enough to leave. How sad.
    So she just signed it Quinn and left to go downstairs to Nick and Katie, a little guilty but mostly relieved because that part of her lift was ended completely.

    Nick helped Quinn unload her furniture into the McKenzies’ garage, and then against his better judgment stayed for a beer to keep her company until her parents got home. “They’ll be home any minute now,” Quinn had said when she asked him to stay. “I can’t wait to explain this one to them.”
    “They going to be upset?” He followed her into the kitchen, trying not to look at her rear end. Her jeans were too tight. He’d never noticed it before, but her jeans were definitely too tight. It was a miracle she didn’t have guys baying at her on the street.
    “Well, they got used to seeing Bill and me together.” Quinn