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Riley:

Just don't tell her I sent you. She'll kill me.

I put the phone down and look at Pickles, who's still stretched out on the rug, watching me.

“Well, buddy. Looks like I'm going out.”

His ears perk up.

“Not you. Sorry.”

He drops his head back onto his paws.

I grab my keys, then stop halfway to the door.

What the hell am I going to say when I get there?

Hey, heard your date sucked. Want to talk about it with the guy who's been crazy jealous all fucking week?

Yeah. Great plan.

I could text her first. Give her the chance to tell me to fuck off.

But I need to see for myself that she’s okay. And if she tells me to leave then, I'll leave.

On my way over, I stop at the diner two blocks from my building and order a grilled cheese and tomato soup to go. It's the kind of thing my mom used to make when one of us had a shitty day, and I figure showing up with food is better than showing up empty-handed.

By the time I get back in the car, the bag's warming the passenger seat, and I'm still not sure whether this is a good idea.

Maybe Quinn's already asleep. Maybe she wants to be left alone. Maybe the last person she wants to see after a bad date is the guy who showed up at her apartment earlier to collect a hoodie and somehow managed to leave without it.

But I keep driving.

Because I know how much it sucks to sit alone when something's gone wrong, and if there's even a chance I can make her night a little better, I'm taking it.

11

QUINN

The Wrong Right Guy

“So," I say, setting down my fork. "Dad tells me you're a golfer."

Adam smiles. "You sure you want to get me started? Because I can talk about golf for a really long time."

Adam smiles. “You sure? Because I can talk about golf for a really long time.”

“I'll stop you when I get bored.”

“Fair warning. I might not notice.”

He tells me about a golf trip to Ojai, where one of his clients bet him two hundred dollars that he couldn't make a hole-in-one. Apparently, the guy had been talking trash all morning, and Adam had finally had enough.

“So I take the shot, right? And the ball lands on the green, rolls toward the hole, and disappears.”

“No way.”

“I swear to God. First hole-in-one of my life.”