“That’s great.”
I shift my stare to my phone when it buzzes.
Callan:She’s starting to push. What do I do?
I chuckle. Damned if I know.
Rory:Hold her hand?
Callan:I was doing that, but I thought she would break it.
Rory:I don’t think she will.
Callan:Hold her hand. Right.
“Is everything okay?” Quinn asks.
“Aye. I don’t think it will be long now.” I tap my phone against my lips. “I feel so helpless.”
“It looks like you’re offering support.”
“Via text.”
“Isn’t that good enough?”
I shrug. “I’d rather be there.”
“I don’t think they’d let you into the delivery room.”
I sigh. “No. Probably not.”
“It’s more comfortable here than in a hospital waiting room.”
“True.”
Quinn squeezes my shoulder. “You’re where Callan needs you to be.”
“Thanks, Quinn.”
“What for?”
“Keeping me company. Being wise.”
Quinn sniggers and then makes a strangled noise.
“Sorry.”
“Not your fault,” he slurs. “I might not be good company for long.”
I’ve worked in a bar long enough to be able to decipher slurred speech with ease. Not that Quinn is drunk. He just sounds like he is.
“Do you want to go back to bed?”
He shakes his head. “Can’t walk right now anyway. I’ll stay if you don’t mind?”
“I don’t.”
He smiles and drops his head back against the sofa. “Being awake half the night gets kinda lonely.” His voice is slowly getting clearer. Each word is easier to understand than the last.
