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“My roommate.”
His mouth turned down at the corners. “Weird face to make at your roommate.”
I was about to ask him exactly what kind of face he thought he saw when Quinn appeared at the other end of our table, giving me an awful fright.
“Don’t do this,” he said, completely ignoring Steve.
“Do what?” I asked, torn between feeling offended by his confrontation and relieved to hear his voice.
“Come home with me,” he said. “We need to talk.”
I laughed in his face. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to—all of a sudden, I might add—but I just got here, and I’m not about to leave.”
“Please, Maddy.” His eyes looked pained, like he was equally disturbed and disheartened by my refusal.
I squeezed my nails into my fists under the table to keep the emotion from my voice. “You should go.”
Quinn stared at me, and his hard features softened like he wasn’t so much angry as starving for a good look at my face. “Can I join you?” he asked, glancing at the pitcher.
“Absolutely not,” I said. “That would be totally inappropriate. I’m with someone.” I gestured across the table at Steve and hoped he would keep schtum. “In case you hadn’t noticed.”
Quinn’s jaw clenched, but he made no effort to look in Steve’s direction. “I fucked up, Maddy.” He scratched the back of his head, and it took all my energy to keep from crumbling at how much I missed him.
“No shit,” I conceded. “Now if you’ll excuse me, you’ve overstayed your welcome.”
“Can we talk?” he asked. “When you get home?”
I searched his stare. “I suppose I prefer that to having you hurt my feelings in public.”
His mouth opened and closed like he wished he knew the right thing to say.
“She told you to fuck off,” Steve said, no doubt annoyed by Quinn’s belligerent disregard of his presence and my feelings. “If she has to ask you again, you can whine to security about it on your way out.”
Quinn looked through me, and my insides shattered. “I was just leaving,” he said, answering Steve without so much as a glance.
Part of me wanted to blurt out that Steve was just a friend, that he was someone else’s boyfriend. It would be so easy to explain, and then Quinn wouldn’t be disappointed in me. He’d know I hadn’t moved on, that I wasn’t seeing other people. That I couldn’t even if I wanted to. But the other part of me wanted him to feel as disposable as he’d made me feel. So I held my ground, even though I despised myself for it.
“I’ll see you later,” he said, the frustration in his voice palpable.
“Whatever,” I mumbled, as if I didn’t care one way or the other.
He walked away after that, and I fought the urge to look over my shoulder as he left, though I imagined his sad expression stood out amongst the rowdy sports fans downing pitchers and getting ready to cheer as soon as the announcer declared it time to plaaaayyyy balll!!!
“What the heck was that about?” Steve asked after Quinn’s tense energy dissipated.
“It’s complicated.”
“Dude seems like kind of an asshole.”
I sighed. “He used to be my asshole.”
Steve’s features swirled with confusion. “Used to be?”
“Can we just forget that happened and talk about something else?”
Pity darkened his eyes. “Sure.”
I was still waiting for my nausea to subside when Kiki threw her arms around me and hugged me from behind, my pulse doubling before her familiar frizzy curls swung into my peripheral vision. “Hi!” I said, happy to see her looking so well. “It’s so great to see you!”
