Page 25 of The Puck Bunny

“Shit,” Quinn says under his breath. “Can you do something?”

I automatically reach out and pat Mindy’s hand.

Sheila comes back from the ladies’ room, rushing as soon as she sees Mindy’s state, and jumps into the consoling big-sister role.

Jonas, in a panic again, tries to look cool, and, at the same time, pats Mindy’s arm trying to console her.

“Someday—” I say, but I don’t get any further.

“Just shut up,” Jonas growls at me in a frustrated outburst. “I don’t want to hear another word from you. Just leave.”

Quinn stands and takes my arm. “We’ll both leave,” he says in that controlled voice that I’m not sure how to interpret. “As soon as you apologize.” He glares at Jonas like he’s an opposing player in a championship game.

Jonas glares back.

Sheila ping-pongs her gaze between them and I’m watching Mindy trying to control her sobs. I’m also watching the way Jonas has his arm around her and how he squeezes her shoulder and leans in. He shows very impressive tenderness especially considering he’s glaring back at Quinn and hasn’t flinched after several tense seconds I look around the bar to check for raised cell phones. So far, none. Amazing what lowered ball caps will do to keep people from recognizing someone.

Mindy whispers something and he still doesn’t flinch or look away from Quinn. But after another beat, he clenches his jaw and nods.

“Sorry.” He takes a deep breath and turns back to Mindy.

I’m confused and frozen in place for a moment, unsure what to do.

But not Quinn. He gives me a soft smile, the pre-dimple kind that’s like a pat on the back for effort. He stands and leaves the table.

I rush after Quinn losing my avenger air and half my confidence, feeling like the kid in Back to the Future with the fading photo, identity being threatened. My hand shakes as I reach for his arm and he turns to me, those crystal blue eyes expectant.

He hails a cab, then turns to me with a frown. “That didn’t go well.”

“Sadly, no, it did not,” I say in an almost normal voice as I smile back. Mindy’s teary face returns to me.

My heart sinks for Mindy while my gut flutters at the nearness of my man, Quinn.

A cab pulls up to the curb and Quinn’s dimple shows up with ironic timing, making my panties go damp in a Pavlovian reaction. I tighten my thighs and my lips, refusing to melt into a simpering fan-girl puddle this time. Where’s that avenger-puck-bunny persona when I need her? Is that who I really am?

“It didn’t go exactly according to plan, but all is not lost. They’re still talking. Loudly, but still, they’re talking. Maybe they just need some time.”

“You had a plan?” he asks.

I nod then stop and force in a breath, commanding myself to behave like a normal adult. Maybe that’s my problem. Maybe I’m not a normal adult. But I should at least act adult-like.

“I did—I mean, I do.” I squint and squeeze my temples to stave of the headache that really wants to pound my skull. “See, we were going to start by remembering the excitement she and Jonas shared, the long, um, nights and how Mindy cured him of hangovers in the mornings. And then we were going to move on to how there was a connection or he would never have… uh… suggested they connect so intimately.” The rush of blood to my face thankfully stops the onslaught of my nonsensical fairytale.

“You’re a romantic puck bunny?”

I think he’s teasing me, so I blush some more, then shake my head, unsure if I should be okay with all the labeling. “I’m a girl with a heart and hope in it.”

“Touché,” he says.

The cabbie beeps the horn.

“Let me get you a ride home,” Quinn says, “You look like you’re about to drop.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. You’re the one who just played a damn hockey game.” I blush again. Damn it.

His dimple deepens. “How about if we share?” He opens the door before I can spit a word out of my stuttering brain.

“What about Sheila and Mindy and Jonas?” I look behind me at the closed door of The Tea Party. I should go back inside because leaving them there doesn’t feel right.