“Never said you couldn’t, but I thought it would be a nice gesture.” I grin and push the bills back into her hand. “Unless buying you breakfast is going to get me labeled a sexist pig again?”
“Ignore her,” Haley says with a wave of the hand. “It’s the lack of caffeine talking. You can buy me breakfast any day.”
“Same,” the girl behind the counter adds, sending a flirtatious smile my way.
I know that look. It says she doesn’t give a damn if I’m with Quinn or Haley or someone else altogether. Ten bucks says she slips me her digits.
And this is why Vaughn thinks you’re an egomaniac.
Whatever. There’s no rule that says we can’t both be right.
“I’ve stumbled into an alternate universe.” Quinn shakes her head, a puzzled expression settling over her face. “That’s the only rational explanation.”
The fuck?
“Because I’m such an asshole, you can’t conceive of me doing something nice?” I ask as the cashier saunters off to fill our order.
Quinn blinks up at me, the picture of innocence. “You said it, not me.”
A chuckle escapes before I can stop it. What can I say? I have a soft spot for sarcasm. “I think the words you’re looking for arethank you.”
“I’ll voice my appreciation, right after you apologize for being a cockblocking jackass.”
“Fair enough,” I agree, crossing my arms over my chest. I’m not too proud to apologize when I screw up. “I’m sorry I interrupted your hookup and prevented you from losing your virginity to a guy who couldn’t remember your name and is a frequent flyer at the health clinic.” I pause for effect and flash a self-satisfied grin. “Your turn.”
Quinn huffs out a breath, cheeks reddening. She doesn’t even look at the barista as the girl returns with our drinks.
“For the record,” Haley stage whispers, grabbing her tea off the counter, “that was the shittiest apology in the history of shitty apologies.”
“Agreed,” Quinn says, planting a hand on her hip.
“Yeah? Then why don’t you show me how it’s done, sweetheart? I’m all ears.”
“I think the words you’re looking for,” she says, throwing my words back at me as a calculating smile curves her lips, “are I’m sorry I was an arrogant, jockblocking jockhole. It wasn’t my place to interfere, and I know better than to take away a woman’s agency. I’ve learned from my mistakes, and I’ll do better in the future.”
“That was pretty good,” I concede, though my apology was definitely funnier. “But aren’t you forgetting something?”
She’s not getting off the hook that easily. Not when she takes every available opportunity to bust my balls.
Quinn’s eyes slide to the barista as she places two paper bags on the counter. “Thank you for breakfast, Cooper.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, meaning it. “Consider it a peace offering. For Saturday night.”
“I suppose it’s the least you can do.” Quinn grabs her latte and one of the paper bags. Haley follows suit. “See you around.”
Haley gives me a tiny finger wave and they hurry off, making a beeline for the front door. My stomach rumbles, and I turn back to the counter to collect my breakfast. All that remains is a bottle of chocolate milk and a napkin with the barista’s number scrawled on it.
My pumpkin chocolate chip muffin is nowhere in sight.
Sonofabitch.
I stuff the napkin in my pocket and grab the chocolate milk. I don’t want another random phone number. I want my muffin. The one Quinn just walked off with.
So much for making amends.
9
QUINN
