River just… stares.
Mouth open. Eyes wide. Soul visibly leaving his body.
“I think you broke him,” I tell her, shaking him slightly.
She flicks her hair back, entirely unbothered. “Sorry if he's your boyfriend—well, not really. You're hot and so my type.”
I snort before I can stop myself. “Not my boyfriend. Brother. And no offence, but I really do like men,” and there's a certain one I can't get out of my head. “Not that I have a problem with you—”
“Oh, I know, babe. I just like stirring the pot and a bit of flirting, don't worry your pretty little head.”
She's outrageous. Loud. Completely unapologetic and somehow comforting.
I can't help but wonder if Elijah is okay. I know he's with Ezra today, helping him out at his bar, but I kind of miss spending time with him.
“You look like something's on your mind.”
“It's complicated,” I say, exhaling. “But I would like a coffee. And maybe to know if you're hiring?”
Her face lights up. “I can settle for best friends then. And yes, we are. I’m picky, though. Most people irritate me, or they think I talk too much, then spit and quit.”
“Spit and quit?”
“They spit on the floor and walk out.” She grabs a cup. “Sometimes I clean it while I curse their family. Sometimes I leave it and see who slips.”
Can’t say I blame her.
I glance at River again. “Yeah. He's definitely broken.”
“Sorry,” he responds, rubbing his chin. “Just… horrified. And mildly heartbroken.”
“And traumatised,” I add.
It's not something I wanted my younger brother to know.
She just beams at him. “Relax, big guy—plenty of fish in the dirty sea. And for what it's worth,” her eyes flick back to me playfully, “you taste amazing. Whoever you're into is a lucky bastard.”
I bite my lip because he really isn't, and it will never happen.
“So,” she says, moving towards the coffee machine. “What’s your poison? Also, congrats, you've got the job. You start tomorrow.”
I squint at her. "Just like that?"
“Just like that.”
Easiest interview ever.
“I will have a coconut latte and a smoothie for him,” I add, nodding at River.
“Chocolate fudge cake with lots of ice cream,” he rushes out.
You wouldn't think he has to stay fit for football.
She stares at him. “Do I look like an ice cream parlour?”
He huffs. She ignores him.
“The name's Quinn. Sounds better if it's moaned, but whatever.”
