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Quinten is glaring at me when I take a step away from his girl.
“I’m good,” she finally answers.
“Hayden!” Wren yells from the other side of the room, rushing out of his office to greet her.
Before the IT specialist can reach her, his stupid bird flies into the room.
With wings spread wide, Puff Daddy drops down onto the back of one of the sofas. It’s the closest place to land to where we’re all standing in the center of the room.
“Hey, baby,” the bird squawks.
“Stop,” Kit says, appearing from down the hall and swatting at the bird.
“Listen here, fucker!” the bird snaps, spinning around to face Kit like he’s seconds from attacking. “I’ll eat your fucking eyes. I swear I will.”
Ignoring the bird, Kit focuses on the newest addition to the room. “I’m Kit.” He points to the bird. “This asshole is Puff Daddy.”
“I can introduce myself,” the bird says. “Come here, pretty lady. Let Daddy get a look at you.”
Hayden smiles, unaware that it’s a trap.
“This explains so much,” she whispers as she continues to watch the strutting bird. “After what I heard last night, I thought Wren had a weird—”
“I fucking told you about keeping it down,” Quinten snaps, glaring at Wren. Wren and his girl Whitney are apparently very sexual people, and from the stories I’ve heard, experimental. Quinten’s normal condo is being renovated, so now he shares an apartment wall with Wren. I know for a fact that Quinten had to move from the master bedroom in his condo to the guest room just to get a good night’s sleep because of the activities going on next door.
“Sorry,” Wren mutters, but the glint in his eyes says he doesn’t mean it.
“What happened to his—” Hayden points as if she doesn’t want to offend the bird, her finger circling to indicate the missing red feathers on Puff’s tail.
“Hey, lady! I’m right here. Ask me to my beak!”
Hayden takes a step closer to the bird, a wide smile on her face. “It’s nice to meet you, Puff Daddy. What happened to your tail feathers?”
“Just what that damn bird needs,” Flynn mutters as he walks into the room. It’s like everyone has scented new blood and they’re coming out of their caves to investigate. “A captive audience.”
“You noticed?” Puff says, ignoring Flynn’s comment. “I’ve been attacked. Give me a hug. It helps with the trauma.”
Quinten grabs Hayden’s arm when she begins to move closer to the bird. “He’ll bite your nipple. It’s a trick.”
Several of us laugh when Hayden gasps, covering her chest with her hands like the demon bird already attempted to nip at her.
“Cockblock!” Puff screams. “Come on, baby. Just a little nibble. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”
Puff Daddy makes obscene noises with his little bird mouth, drawing another round of chuckles.
“Wren,” Deacon snaps as he, too, enters the room. “Get that bird out of the breakroom. We’ve talked about this.”
“Fucking tyrant!” Puff yells, but he flies back to Wren’s office on his own.
“At least he didn’t shit on you this time,” Flynn tells our boss. “Hi, I’m Flynn Coleman.”
Hayden shakes his hand. “Hayden Prescott.”
“Nice to meet you. This tyrant is Deacon Black, the big boss.”
“The owner of the company,” Deacon corrects, holding out his hand as well. “Nice to meet you. Quinten, can I speak with you for a moment?”
“I’ll be right back. You okay?” Quinten asks before walking away.
“Don’t worry, big guy,” I say with a clap on his back. I can’t help but give him a hard time. “I’ve got her.”
He glares at me, the warning in his eyes telling me not to press my luck. I give him a wide smile, playing ignorant. I’ve said it before that I don’t know much about relationships, but if it were physically possible to see love and adoration on someone’s face, then Quinten’s scowling face has been transformed with it.
“The bird is a psycho,” I tell Hayden.
“I think he’s funny,” she says with a chuckle.
“Only because he hasn’t bitten you or crapped on you.”
“He doesn’t like Deacon?”
“It’s a complicated relationship,” I explain, pulling a hearty laugh from her.
The last time I saw Hayden was at the gun range. She was there hoping Quinten would show up, and I was there praying her best friend would do the same. We were both disappointed.
“How is the shooting going?”
She freezes, her eyes darting all around.
“Crap, Hayden. I wasn’t thinking. I was talking about—”
She places a soft hand on my arm. “I know what you meant. It’s all just a little raw still.”
“But still. Sorry. This is why I usually just stick to the quiet corners of the room.” Hayden went through hell yesterday, and the first thing I draw on is the shooting class, which of course gave her the skills to protect herself yesterday. I wouldn’t know what it’s like to have to shoot someone. I patch up the bullet holes rather than create them.
