He winked and rolled off. “You betcha.”
“Guess I’ll just wait here with my T-shirt inside out until you get back, then.”
I’d meant the comment for myself, but halfway across the room Hunter chuckled. “Rock the look, man.”
“Shan,” Quinn’s voice sailed across the room, getting closer and closer. “I know it’s a pain in the ass, but I’m real thankful.”
“Keep buying me hot drinks, and I won’t throw you out on the street. Yet, anyway.” There came anoof, followed by a short laugh. “Hey, I’m carrying coffees here! Wait, isn’t that Liam?”
I straightened, wiping my palms against my thighs.
“Liam.” Quinn rested his hands on the table as he squeezed into a seat next to me. “Tell me you’re not here using Hunter as your angle.”
“I’m not here using Hunter as my angle.”
Shannon sat on my other side and handed over Quinn’s coffee. “Quit it, Quinn. He’s Travis’s date.”
“Wait.” Quinn frowned. “Date?”
“In a manner of speaking,” I answered quickly, “but probably not the way you’re thinking. We arranged to meet up here.” I pried my hand out of my pocket and rested it on the table. There was no need to be nervous. “To chat.”
He relaxed into the seat. “Yeah, you don’t look his usual type.” His gaze dipped from my face to my T-shirt, where a small grin played at the corner of his lips. He hid it behind his coffee mug, and took a sip.
“Move it, Sullivan,” Hunter called, expertly moving his chairwhile balancing one coffee. Quinn scooted his chair to the side. “Here you go.” Hunter carefully slid the coffee to me.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the warm cup and sliding it carefully toward me. Before I could enjoy it though, I needed to fix my T-shirt.
“Sure thing.”
“I’m just going to visit the restroom,” I said, pushing back my chair and hurrying away. When I returned, Shannon was talking to Hunter about why the self-defense course she and Quinn ran was so important.
“Gives these men and women the chance to feel more confident going out,” Shannon said. “They learn the skills to defend themselves and get a chance to run away.”
Hunter asked, “And you’ve been running these since...” He didn’t finish his sentence, but Shannon lowered her gaze and nodded.
“Yeah. It’s not enough, but I just need to do something.”
“This is the right thing to do, Shan,” Quinn said, focusing on his half-full coffee.
I sipped my still-steaming drink. The way Quinn sat there with his prowling grace and deep voice had more than a few males and females glancing his way. The guy could say what he wanted, but he knew how good-looking he was, clubbed ears and all.
He scratched at the top of his shirt, giving me the faintest peek of his chest. I looked at his face, startling myself into splashing coffee over my front—Quinn was staring back at me, one eyebrow raised.
“Gah!”
Hunter glanced over at us, cocking his head 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...”
