QUINN
I instinctively stepped back, halting his approach. Jack's hand, which had been stretched out toward me, hovered for a second before he slowly retracted it.
He cleared his throat, adjusting his posture. “I meant... what happened? Old age?”
I shot him a stinging glare. “It's nothing.”
“It doesn't look like nothing.”
“I'm fine.”
“You—” I...