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Myles juts her chin out and crosses her arms.
“Fucksake,” he mutters, clearly smarter than he looks, as he fishes out his wallet.
I press my palm to her shoulder. “See ya tomorrow.”
“If you’re still sick, you can stay the hell home,” she retorts.
Rather than fight her about it, I just nod and leave the floor. I don’t go through the main doors—there’s a crowd still vying to get in. Instead, I hit the back door and make my way to my vehicle as quickly as I can.
I still half expect to get cornered by Cal, but I don’t.
Yay for small miracles.
Making my way from Superior to Canal Park takes less than fifteen minutes but the entire drive I’m on autopilot. Instead, I keep replaying that kiss over and over.
It was a damn good kiss. My body still tingles from the memory of it.
When I pull into Grandma’s parking lot, I catch Quinn standing by the entrance looking disgruntled. It takes a few passes to find a spot in the lot, thanks to being the first Friday in June.
By the time I walk up to him, he’s leaning a shoulder against the building and staring at his phone.
“Hey,” I mutter, then shove my hands into my pockets.
Quinn glances up and his shoulders drop. “Finally, a friendly face. Do you know there’s aforty-minutewait for a table? Like what in the love of all that’s holy am I meant to do with that?” He shakes his phone at London. “I have to watch my phone because they’ll text me when our table opens up. God, I hate tourist season.” Just then, his phone buzzes, and his face lights up. “Oh, never mind. Our table’s ready.”
I shake my head, chuckling under my breath.
Yeah, this is exactly the distraction I need right now. Otherwise, I’ll be obsessing over Lily and what she’s thinking … What she’sdoing. All she’s going through.
Following the server and Quinn, we get seated in a booth in the main area.
“You are about to be my new best friend, er—” Quinn pauses, squinting at the server’s name tag. “Tom. Great name, by the way.”
Tom narrows his eyes. “Uh, okay.”
“So, I’ll skip the small talk. I need onion rings with a side of ranch and a pitcher of Long Island iced tea yesterday,” Quinn fires off.
Tom’s expression gives his amusement away as he nods and passes over a menu to each of us. “And for you?”
“We’ll share,” I say, glancing down at the menu. I’m gonna need a burger or something to soak up the copious amount of alcohol I plan on drinking.
With a curt nod, Tom walks off and I look over the burger selection.
Quinn glances at his menu briefly, barely even enough to take any of it in, then sets it down. “Do you know what it’s like to help your grandmother downsize her house full of a‘century’s worth of memories?’”He uses air quotes for the last part of that sentence.
My eyes widen. “Can’t say as I do.”
“It sucks. I don’t recommend it. Zero out of five stars,” he says, his gaze floating around the restaurant. His shoulders slump and he sighs loudly. “Where is my damn drink?”
“I’m sure it wasn’t so bad …” I respond, setting my menu down.
He shoots me a look of annoyance. “Not only did I have to help Mammy chuck out years of worthless artifacts thatno one,including my nonexistent children, will ever want, but I had to do it under the watchful eye of my mother—who, by the way, had a colonoscopy right in the middle of this shit show. Wrong choice of words?” He makes a face. “Eh, no. It’s pretty much spot on.”
Tom the server walks up with a pitcher of Long Island iced tea and our onion rings. He pours two large glasses for us and Quinn snatches his with the kind of agility I’ve rarely witnessed.
“Thank the lucky stars above and all that’s holy,” Quinn mutters, reaching out and taking three onion rings next.
Tom eyes Quinn and chuckles. “Do you both know what you’d like to eat? Or is this everything?”
