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“I’m not here using Hunter as my angle.”

Shannon sat on my other side and handed over Quinn’s coffee. “Quit it, Quinn. He’s Travis’s date.”

“Wait.” Quinn frowned. “Date?”

“In a manner of speaking,” I answered quickly, “but probably not the way you’re thinking. We arranged to meet up here.” I pried my hand out of my pocket and rested it on the table. There was no need to be nervous. “To chat.”

He relaxed into the seat. “Yeah, you don’t look his usual type.” His gaze dipped from my face to my T-shirt, where a small grin played at the corner of his lips. He hid it behind his coffee mug, and took a sip.

“Move it, Sullivan,” Hunter called, expertly moving his chair while balancing one coffee. Quinn scooted his chair to the side. “Here you go.” Hunter carefully slid the coffee to me.

“Thank you,” I said, taking the warm cup and sliding it carefully toward me. Before I could enjoy it though, I needed to fix my T-shirt.

“Sure thing.”

“I’m just going to visit the restroom,” I said, pushing back my chair and hurrying away. When I returned, Shannon was talking to Hunter about why the self-defense course she and Quinn ran was so important.

“Gives these men and women the chance to feel more confident going out,” Shannon said. “They learn the skills to defend themselves and get a chance to run away.”

Hunter asked, “And you’ve been running these since . . .” He didn’t finish his sentence, but Shannon lowered her gaze and nodded.

“Yeah. It’s not enough, but I just need to do something.”

“This is the right thing to do, Shan,” Quinn said, focusing on his half-full coffee.

I sipped my still-steaming drink. The way Quinn sat there with his prowling grace and deep voice had more than a few males and females glancing his way. The guy could say what he wanted, but he knew how good-looking he was, clubbed ears and all.

He scratched at the top of his shirt, giving me the faintest peek of his chest. I looked at his face, startling myself into splashing coffee over my front—Quinn was staring back at me, one eyebrow raised.

“Gah!”

Hunter glanced over at us, cocking his head at Quinn. “He likes to do that—” With a casual gesture toward me, his hand hit his coffee and tipped it over. He lifted the cup, swearing. “Sorry!”

I moved too slowly, and coffee spilled over the side of the table and onto my thighs. Jumping up, I brushed off as much of it as I could. “Guess it matches my shirt now.”

Quinn grabbed a bunch of napkins from the counter and came back to wipe up the rest. He handed me a few extra. “For the pants.”

I nodded and took them. But I’d need more than a few paper napkins.

I twisted sharply at the tap on my shoulder. There, with his dark copper hair and shy dimpled smile was the guy I’d helped home the other week. Mitch, was it?

He darted a tongue over his bottom lip, glancing to everyone at the table and back. “Hey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just saw you, and . . . I have a feeling we know each other from somewhere.”

I peeled the coffee-stained napkins off my thigh and balled them in my hand. “Yes, we met. A week ago. Friday night . . .”

He bit his lip and folded his arms across his skintight V-neck. “Ohhh.”

“Are you going to introduce us then?” Hunter asked. He hooked his hands behind his head and smirked up at Mitch.

“Sure, this is Mitch. He lost his contacts while inebriated, so I walked him home.”

Quinn made a sound like he was swallowing a snort. Mitch unfolded his arms and shook Quinn’s hand, then Shannon’s. His shy smile wavered as he took Hunter’s hand, and when Hunter let him go, Mitch casually wiped his palms on his jeans.

“Are you kidding?” Shannon asked, narrowing her eyes at Mitch. “You think a spinal fracture is contagious?”

Mitch glanced at his hands, frowning. “It wasn’t—”

Shannon shook her head. “It’s just rude, is what it is.”

“Yeah, okay.” Mitch backed up a few steps and glanced at me. “Uh, bye.” He hurried away.

Hunter’s eyes closed, his hands balled tightly, and his nostrils flared. Shannon reached out and patted his hand, but he whipped it away from her, jerking his chair back.

“What the hell was that, Shan?” he cursed under his breath. “You always think you need to come to my rescue. I don’t need you to. I don’t want you to. Why is it you can’t see that I’m just fine on my own?”

“But—”

Hunter was already rolling around the table and toward the front door. “Mitch, man, wait up a sec.”

“Quinn,” Shannon said, blinking rapidly as if to hold back tears.

Quinn sidled over and wrapped an arm around her. “You meant well, darlin’. I know.”

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