Quinn #3
"You know," he says, leaning back in his chair, "most people would be thrilled to have me buy them dinner."
"Most people don't know you."
He snorts. Progress. A few hours ago I was crying in my bedroom, and now I'm insulting my brother.
Daithí's phone rings. He glances at the screen and immediately mutters a curse. I don't miss the way his shoulders tighten.
"Problem?" I ask.
"Hopefully not." That's never reassuring, he pushes to his feet. "I need to take this."
I wave him away. "I'll survive fifteen minutes on my own."
His expression says he isn't convinced.
"I'm serious."
He points at me. "Don't leave."
I laugh despite myself. "I'm not a flight risk."
"Debatable."
I roll my eyes. Daithí finally heads toward the front of the restaurant, already speaking into the phone before he's fully out of earshot. The smile slips from my face the second he's gone. It's easier to pretend I'm okay when other people are around. When I'm alone, Mam's words creep back in.
Maybe if you'd been less difficult to love.
I stare down at my water glass. The condensation has left a ring on the table, and I trace it with my finger.
A shadow falls across the booth, I assume it's Daithí. "That was quick." The silence that follows has my stomach dropping, and I look up. Lorenzo. Of course, because apparently the universe has decided I haven't suffered enough for one day.
His gaze flicks to the empty seat across from me. "Daithí?"
"Phone call."
He nods and the man from the bookstore feels very different from the man who's spent the last couple of weeks keeping me at arm's length.
"Meeting?" I ask.
The question comes out before I can stop it. His eyes return to mine. "Business."
Of course it is, everything with Lorenzo is business lately. He glances toward the front of the restaurant, and then back at me. "You waiting for him?"
I almost laugh. "No. I just enjoy sitting alone in restaurants."
A corner of his mouth twitches, it’s not quite a smile, but close enough that I notice it. "Fair."
The silence returns, it's uncomfortable. Not because of him, because of everything that sits between us now. So I look at him and ask the question that's been stuck in my head for weeks. "Did I do something?" The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
For a second, Lorenzo looks genuinely caught off guard. Good. Because I've been caught off guard for weeks.
His jaw tightens. "No."
I stare at him. "You hesitated."
His eyes narrow slightly. "You were watching me closely enough to notice?"
I ignore that. "Then what is it?"
His gaze holds mine, and f or a second, I think he's actually going to tell me. Instead, he looks away. "Things are complicated."
A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. "Complicated?"
His eyes return to mine.
"That's the word you're going with?"
"It's accurate."
I shake my head. "No, it isn't."
Frustration flashes across his face and a waiter appears with mine and Daithí’s drinks before either of us can say anything else.
The interruption gives me a chance to breathe. Lorenzo waits until the waiter leaves. "You didn't do anything."
"Right."
He sighs, the sound is quiet, and tired. "You shouldn't look at me like that."
I frown. "Like what?"
"Like you're waiting for an explanation."
My chest tightens, because that's exactly what I'm doing, waiting, and hoping. Trying to figure out what happened to the man who spent an afternoon arguing with me about dragons and buying me books. I hate that I miss him, I hate it even more because I barely knew him.
Before I can answer, Lorenzo speaks again. "How's the wedding planning going?"
The change of subject is obvious. I should let him have it. Instead, I laugh, a humorless sound. "Terribly."
Something in his expression softens. "That bad?"
"Yesterday there was a twenty-minute argument about flowers."
His eyebrows lift. "Twenty minutes?"
"Twenty-three to be exact"
"Jesus Christ."
Despite everything, I smile. "That was my reaction."
For the first time since he sat down, the tension eases. Only slightly, but it’s enough. Enough that it almost feels like the bookstore again.
Daithí returns a few minutes later, sliding back into the booth opposite me.
"Nobody dead?" I ask.
"Not today."
"Good."
He snorts and Lorenzo gets to his feet. I immediately feel disappointed. It's probably for the best, we've spent the last few weeks avoiding each other. Whatever this was, it was temporary. Lorenzo glances at me, and then he pauses. "Did you finish them?"
I blink. "Finish what?"
His expression is flat. "The eight books."
My heart does a stupid little flip, he remembered. Of all the things he could have remembered, he remembered the books. I try not to smile, but I fail. "Six."
One of his eyebrows lifts. "Only six?"
I gasp. "Only six?"
Daithí looks between us. "What the fuck are you two talking about?"
Neither of us answers him. Lorenzo's attention stays on me. "You've got two left."
"I've been busy."
"With flowers?"
I narrow my eyes. "Don't start."
The corner of his mouth twitches. "I'll expect a full report when you're finished."
I stare at him. "A report?"
"You were very passionate about dragons."
Daithí looks genuinely confused now. "Dragons?"
I point at Lorenzo. "See? This is why nobody likes you."
To my surprise, a quiet laugh escapes him. Gone almost as quickly as it appears, but it was there. For a second, I catch a glimpse of the man from the bookstore. The one I've been missing, but then he steps back, and the moment disappears. "I'll see you at the wedding."
I nod. "See you then."
He leaves and I watch him walk toward the exit.
Daithí waits until the door closes before looking at me. "What the fuck was that?"
I stare down at my drink, unable to stop smiling. For the first time in weeks, Mam's words don't feel quite so loud. "I don't know," I admit.
And for the first time in a long time, I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing.