at Quinn. “He likes to do that—” With a casual gesture toward me, his hand hit his coffee and tipped it over. He lifted the cup, swearing. “Sorry!”
I moved too slowly, and coffee spilled over the side of the table and onto my thighs. Jumping up, I brushed off as much of it as I could. “Guess it matches my shirt now.”
Quinn grabbed a bunch of napkins from the counter and came back to wipe up the rest. He handed me a few extra. “For the pants.”
I nodded and took them. But I’d need more than a few paper napkins.
I twisted sharply at the tap on my shoulder. There, with his dark copper hair and shy dimpled smile was the guy I’d helped home the other week. Mitch, was it?
He darted a tongue over his bottom lip, glancing to everyone at the table and back. “Hey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just saw you, and . . . I have a feeling we know each other from somewhere.”
I peeled the coffee-stained napkins off my thigh and balled them in my hand. “Yes, we met. A week ago. Friday night . . .”
He bit his lip and folded his arms across his skintight V-neck. “Ohhh.”
“Are you going to introduce us then?” Hunter asked. He hooked his hands behind his head and smirked up at Mitch.
“Sure, this is Mitch. He lost his contacts while inebriated, so I walked him home.”
Quinn made a sound like he was swal lowing a snort. Mitch unfolded his arms and shook Quinn’s hand, then Shannon’s. His shy smile wavered as he took Hunter’s hand, and when Hunter let him go, Mitch casually wiped his palms on his jeans.
“Are you kidding?” Shannon asked, narrowing her eyes at Mitch. “You think a spinal fracture is contagious?”
Mitch glanced at his hands , frowning. “It wasn’t—”
Shannon shook her head. “It’s just rude, is what it is.”
“Yeah , okay.” Mitch backed up a few steps and glanced at me. “Uh, bye.” He hurried away.
Hunter ’s eyes closed, his hands balled tightly, and his nostrils flared. Shannon reached out and patted his hand, but he whipped it away from her, jerking his chair back.
“What the hell was that, Shan? ” he cursed under his breath. “You always think you need to come to my rescue. I don’t need you to. I don’t want you to. Why is it you can’t see that I’m just fine on my own?”
“B ut—”
Hunter was already rolling around the table and toward the front door. “Mitch, man, wait up a sec.”
“Quinn,” Shannon said, blinking rapidly as if to hold back tears.
Quinn sidled over and wrapped an arm around her. “You meant well, darlin’. I know.”
I should move. Do something. Anything. I was just making things more awkward by watching, even if it was my instinct to observe.
My wet pants still clung to my legs, so I skirted toward the restroom. I passed Hunter at the door just as he caught Mitch’s attention.
“Look man, I spilled my coffee before. I know I have sticky hands —I’m assuming that was the reason for wiping them.”
“God, yes, it was.” Mitch rubbed the bridge of his nose with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry it came across differently . . . ”
“No worries.”
I made my way to the bathroom and dried my pants as well as I could under the air dryer. After a couple of minutes and a rather quizzical look from an elderly man, I gave up. The pants would have to go into the wash as soon as I got home anyway, and home was only a quarter-hour walk. I’d say my goodbyes and leave. Maybe this was a sign that I should be home working.
I left the restroom and paused this time as I passed Hunter and Mitch. Mitch’s gaze slowly travelled down Hunter’s tattooed arms. He gave him a cute, crooked smile. “Well, have a good day!”
Hunter flexed his arm muscles as if he were aware of their appeal. “ Yeah, you too.” He rolled back in a swift move, and I jumped to avoid colliding. “Liam. Nice friend of yours. Sorry about the drama.”
“I was tempted to pull out my notebook and start
I moved too slowly, and coffee spilled over the side of the table and onto my thighs. Jumping up, I brushed off as much of it as I could. “Guess it matches my shirt now.”
Quinn grabbed a bunch of napkins from the counter and came back to wipe up the rest. He handed me a few extra. “For the pants.”
I nodded and took them. But I’d need more than a few paper napkins.
I twisted sharply at the tap on my shoulder. There, with his dark copper hair and shy dimpled smile was the guy I’d helped home the other week. Mitch, was it?
He darted a tongue over his bottom lip, glancing to everyone at the table and back. “Hey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just saw you, and . . . I have a feeling we know each other from somewhere.”
I peeled the coffee-stained napkins off my thigh and balled them in my hand. “Yes, we met. A week ago. Friday night . . .”
He bit his lip and folded his arms across his skintight V-neck. “Ohhh.”
“Are you going to introduce us then?” Hunter asked. He hooked his hands behind his head and smirked up at Mitch.
“Sure, this is Mitch. He lost his contacts while inebriated, so I walked him home.”
Quinn made a sound like he was swal lowing a snort. Mitch unfolded his arms and shook Quinn’s hand, then Shannon’s. His shy smile wavered as he took Hunter’s hand, and when Hunter let him go, Mitch casually wiped his palms on his jeans.
“Are you kidding?” Shannon asked, narrowing her eyes at Mitch. “You think a spinal fracture is contagious?”
Mitch glanced at his hands , frowning. “It wasn’t—”
Shannon shook her head. “It’s just rude, is what it is.”
“Yeah , okay.” Mitch backed up a few steps and glanced at me. “Uh, bye.” He hurried away.
Hunter ’s eyes closed, his hands balled tightly, and his nostrils flared. Shannon reached out and patted his hand, but he whipped it away from her, jerking his chair back.
“What the hell was that, Shan? ” he cursed under his breath. “You always think you need to come to my rescue. I don’t need you to. I don’t want you to. Why is it you can’t see that I’m just fine on my own?”
“B ut—”
Hunter was already rolling around the table and toward the front door. “Mitch, man, wait up a sec.”
“Quinn,” Shannon said, blinking rapidly as if to hold back tears.
Quinn sidled over and wrapped an arm around her. “You meant well, darlin’. I know.”
I should move. Do something. Anything. I was just making things more awkward by watching, even if it was my instinct to observe.
My wet pants still clung to my legs, so I skirted toward the restroom. I passed Hunter at the door just as he caught Mitch’s attention.
“Look man, I spilled my coffee before. I know I have sticky hands —I’m assuming that was the reason for wiping them.”
“God, yes, it was.” Mitch rubbed the bridge of his nose with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry it came across differently . . . ”
“No worries.”
I made my way to the bathroom and dried my pants as well as I could under the air dryer. After a couple of minutes and a rather quizzical look from an elderly man, I gave up. The pants would have to go into the wash as soon as I got home anyway, and home was only a quarter-hour walk. I’d say my goodbyes and leave. Maybe this was a sign that I should be home working.
I left the restroom and paused this time as I passed Hunter and Mitch. Mitch’s gaze slowly travelled down Hunter’s tattooed arms. He gave him a cute, crooked smile. “Well, have a good day!”
Hunter flexed his arm muscles as if he were aware of their appeal. “ Yeah, you too.” He rolled back in a swift move, and I jumped to avoid colliding. “Liam. Nice friend of yours. Sorry about the drama.”
“I was tempted to pull out my notebook and start
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