Abigail

Not even two days back in town and already I’m reminded of why I left. And there’s no better courier for an affirmation of the status quo than one of the Coopers. Lucky me, winning the jackpot and getting all four of them.

To be fair, I never had a problem with Quinn. He was in a couple of my classes, but apparently, he doesn’t remember that. Which isn’t surprising, given that we never exchanged more than two words to each other in the four years we studied together. Or I could take it further back, to middle school. We did speak once or twice in elementary school, but that was eons ago. I’m not the kind of girl who got his attention back then.

Or now.

Nothing’s changed. His brothers certainly haven’t. They made my life a living hell in school. I only got a break during senior year, when all of them except for Quinn had graduated. Tate, in particular, was a piece of work. Just remembering the mean comments he’d tossed my way was enough to make my blood boil.

I’ll eat and then leave. With any luck, that unfortunate greeting at the door is the extent of my misfortune where the Coopers were concerned.

It’s hard to concentrate on which of the four greasy spoon items on the menu I’ll choose. I haven’t unpacked my cutlery yet, so I’ll have to eat while I’m here. Unless they pack a mean doggie bag, with all the utensils I’ll need to eat. Which, knowing this place, they don’t.

Their din hasn’t died down yet. I concentrate on the laminated sheet that passes for a menu in front of me, narrowing my options to a cheeseburger or a salad. A cheeseburger could be messy to eat, especially in a hurry. It would have to be a salad, which I’ll inhale in a minute flat, and then be on my way.

When I glance up, three of the Cooper brothers are gawking at me and laughing. The other one, Quinn, looks ready to dart out the door. But when he looks over at me, he quickly darts his gaze to another spot in the room.

What did I do this time?

Not that the Coopers needed a reason to make me miserable. It seemed to be their nature. But still, just talking to Quinn is enough to rile up the ridicule that floats across the room.

I glance back at the menu. Anywhere but at the men who are a reminder of why I left this damn town in the first place.

“Hi,” a deep voice says above me.

Steeling my shoulders, I glance up.

Quinn is staring down at me. He blinks, and I see those ridiculously long lashes haven’t changed either. It was that detail about him that always made me swoon.

Yes, swoon. I was that girl in high school.

You know what? I’m still that girl. No one on earth can criticize me for it. Put him in front of anyone attracted to men and they’ll say the exact same thing.

“You again,” I say, ice cold. Ironic, given I’m burning on the inside. “You know, I did give you a way out. For you to follow me back to my table just to mess with me and make me a laughingstock for your brothers, again, is just so…high school.”

Quinn furrows his brow. “What are you talking about? I wanted to say hi. You’re right, I don’t remember you, and that’s my loss. Can you really fault a guy for trying to right a wrong?”

I’m not convinced his brothers aren’t putting him up to this. Right a wrong? Really?

“Look, Quinn, it’s been a long week, and I’m only at this grease spoon because I need to eat. Then I’m headed back to my little cabin in the middle of nowhere. You don’t have to right anything.”

He pulls up a chair and sits with its back against his chest, the image of an impish creature. “I’m here because I want to be. What are you up to? What’s happened since high school?”

I have to sigh because that’s not a subject I want to get into, not with him or anyone else. “Long story. I don’t like talking about it.”

Quinn holds his hands up, a show of innocence. “I can respect that. It’s my go-to response when someone asks me what I’m up to or does that pity head-tilt when they talk about me blowing my knee out.”

Here we go, then. Talking about the career that never was. I heard about it, of course. No one around these parts could escape it. The fall of the titan that never was. More precisely, the titan that never got a chance to be.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say sincerely, and go back to scanning the menu, even though I’ve already settled on the salad. Maybe now is a good time to make sure I made the right call.

“You’re right, why talk about that?” Quinn asks, eyes sparkling. “Better to talk about the present. And the future. Are you going to be in town long?”

“I never know what’s going to happen more than a month in advance. Sometimes, not even then. I’m here until I’m not,” I say, setting the menu down and meeting his gaze directly. “Keeps life interesting.”

“And what is it that you do that allows you to be such a maverick about your moves?”

“I write.” I steel myself for the laughter I know will follow. Writing isn’t cool or sexy to jocks, and even if Quinn always did seem a step removed from his Neanderthal brothers, dollars to donuts that he’ll lose interest in this conversation.

His eyebrows shoot up, which could either be surprise or mockery. “Write what?”

“Fiction,” I say, averting my eyes again. I hope he doesn’t ask to see something I’ve written because there’s no chance in hell that I would ever oblige or humor him. My writing is too personal and not-for-jocks.

“I get the feeling this isn’t something you want to talk about either,” Quinn muses. “That’s fine. Look, I want you to forgive my asshole brothers for laughing. It’s not you - it’s me. You have my word on that. I need to ask for your help if you’re willing.”

I study him for a second before answering. “What is it?”

“They’re on my last nerve, and I need a way out. How about I drive you home so that you don’t have to walk back and I have an acceptable excuse for ditching them?”

“How in the world do you know I walked here?”

Grinning, he eyes my shoes. “Your boots. They’re caked in mud, and I don’t think there’s any place in the parking lot that would result in that.”

I look down at my boots, which are indeed filthy. Come to think of it, I’m exhausted from head to toe. A ride home would be nice. If it were anyone else offering, I would accept in a heartbeat. Well, if that someone didn’t have the last name Cooper, that is. But if I leave with Quinn, he’ll get the wrong idea. For all I know, this might well be a line. I never took Quinn for someone who’d want to slum it with someone like me, but maybe it’s been a long while for him.

Whatever it is, I want no part of it.  

“I see your wheels are spinning, so I just want to assure you that this is exactly what it sounds like,” he says. “I only want to take you home.”

“That’s just the thing,” I start to say when I see Killian and Tate, the worst of the Coopers, angling their phones at us. Like they’re taking a picture. “What are they doing?”

Quinn glances backward, his face darkening when he catches sight of his brothers. “Two assholes proving my point.”

“I want to say yes, but I’m afraid that-”

“Afraid that I’m in the same category as those assholes I unfortunately have to call my brothers. And that I’ll use this as a pretext to get in your pants?” Quinn raises his right hand like a boy scout. “I promise it’s not.”

I shoot one last look at the menu. I’m really not missing much if I skip this meal - but I’ll need to eat eventually. Maybe there’ll be some other place open on our way to my cabin. My stomach growls again, making Quinn laugh.

“Well, that’s the sound of one more stop on the way to your place,” he says. “So, are you going to be my knight in shining armor or will I need to fulfill that role for myself?”

Oh, what the hell. This is the best tonight is going to get.

“Let’s go, then,” I tell him.

Twirling his keychain around his fingers, Quinn gets up and holds the door open for me. Before he steps outside of the dive bar, he salutes his brothers. They’re all staring at us - Killian even, that dick, with his mouth agape - and it does nothing to settle the mounting fear that this is a terrible, no good, awful idea.