#date gone wrong

[foxpopvli]

Too late...

[theonenina]

Dreams of You

Fragment///001 — Just about enough

Each ticking second felt like it was growing closer to a light year.

The dread of how much more to endure was almost parallel to finding what useless thing could be said next.

Melanie gave a weak smile as she snapped out of disassociation to rejoin the tables atmosphere and conversation.

Kate gave a quick questioning glance before laughing at a joke thrown to the table by her date. Ever the most polite one.

Melanie shook her head and took a deep drink of her fizzy spirit.

Just a little more to go.

Looking up with a plastered expression of neutrality.

"Do you always do that?" The boy across from her asked.

"Excuse me?" Melanie's under eyes pulsing a quick squint that briefly flickered judgement.

"Uh—just, it looked like you were on another planet for a second. Sorry?" Donny gripped his drink, taking a nervous sip, and looking down the table at his friend Gerard.

"Oh. No... just on double dates." Melanie replied with a sarcastic smile. "—Ow!" receiving a quick kick under the table from Kate.

"Kidding." Melanie added quickly.

Kate's gaze hardly left Gerard.

Melanie sighed with a smile. At least her dearest friend was having a great time. But her patience was beginning to spread thinner by the moment. She had just about enough of faking it this long.

Donny cleared his throat and looked like he wanted to speak but nothing came out.

Kate finally broke divided attention with Gerard and looked down the table. "I'm glad we could all do this!"

"Yea! However, I want credit for these two hitting it off though." Gerard's tone was somewhere between aloof and teasing.

"Com'on now, we've barely just met." Donny chuckled and rolled his eyes at his friend.

Kate gulped her sip.

Melanies gaze snapped up from her glass, flowing from Gerard to Donny.

He didn't remember her.

He didn't remember tormenting her as children.

He didn't remember being a bully—to none other than his current double date.

"Oh is that so?" Melanie's mood ran cold, to the point where she could no longer contain herself.

Kate was about to interject but was cut off.

"You're telling me... you don't remember the way you put gum in my hair in the second grade?!" Melanie's tone laced with poison and disdain.

Kate covered her eyes with one hand, already embarrassed.

Gerards eyes widened and filled with curiosity.

Donny squirmed in his seat under the sudden direct pressure.

It felt like the radius of silence expanded around their table. Nearby conversations becoming faint whispers.

"Wait, no, of course not! You never even apologized, or card about the people you bullied back then. Not enough to even remember them, apparently." Melanie rolled her eyes before taking a sip of her drink to cut the tension.

A pause.

A sigh.

"Well—I didn't know that was you!? You look so different now?!... How was I supposed to know? Plus, we were just kids back then!" Donny tried to defend.

Gerard took a drink as well and glanced between his friend and Melanie "Well this was unexpected—ow!"

Kate hissed something inaudible to him after also kicking him under the table and began to gather her purse and sweater.

"I'm going to call a cab." Melanie looked at Kate before getting up from the table. "I need the restroom."

As she walked away from the table she could hear Donny and Gerard already beginning to argue.

Author note: this is a chapter fragment from the story I'm writing called Dreams of You! It is apart of chapter 6... I will definitely be sharing more fragments soon so stay tuned for that if you like this style of writing :)

[northernrammsteiner]

Du Riechst so Gut 98' screenshots- Taking a Werewolf to your bedroom- what could possibly go wrong ?? Well, quite a lot... 💃🐺😍😳😱

[bigsouthoftheborder]

I know I haven't always treated my dates and her friends with the respect they deserved. This was suppose to be a fun night out with her friends, and when we got back to her house, she was very mad at me. I did act like a jerk and I did deserve to be spanked.

[pareidoliaonthemove]

Of Mice and Men

Virgil gave into temptation and stepped closer, his hand carefully covering his mouth and nose, directing his breath downwards – away from the painting he was studying in enraptured detail.

He had seen Constables before, but only in public museums, and they discouraged any kind of focused contemplation; so when he had been offered the run of the extensive Creighton-Ward art gallery while Gordon and Penelope were on their ‘date’ he had jumped at the chance.

Parker had suggested he might be interested in this painting, pointing it out with a casual, “I think you’ll f’hind that corner m’host h’interesting, Mister Virgil,” and a small smile, before excusing himself to his other duties in the manor.

Although part of Virgil rankled at the thought of being used to soothe Parker’s ire at not being permitted to chauffeur Penelope on her date, he was mostly grateful for the opportunity he had been provided.

The hand not protecting the painting from his close scrutiny twitched as he tried to envisage the brush strokes Constable had used out on Hampstead Heath as he captured the setting sun behind storm cloud.

Or maybe it was the colours that brought the sunset to life? The layering, maybe? Virgil had turned his critical eye to the palette, naming colours and trying to calculate how to formulate the various shades and blends when a sudden motion in the corner of his eye had him jerking back in startlement.

Virgil and the mouse perched atop the wainscotting stood frozen, staring at each other in shock.

It was the mouse that recovered first, scurrying frantically on its way to vanish behind the Constable…

… and didn’t reappear. There was a slight scrabbling sound and Virgil’s heart leapt at the thought of the damage the rodent could be doing to the painting.

Subduing his first instinct to move the painting to chase a way the mouse – knowing full well the scope of the security systems that had been installed throughout the manor, he was slightly terrified of what might happen to him if he did. Virgil pressed his face to the wall at the side of the painting, trying to peer through the small gap the wainscotting created to see where the mouse was, but he was stymied by the careful gallery lighting, designed to best display the paintings while protecting them.

While the artist part of him flailed in horror at the thoughts of the mouse gnawing on the back of the painting, the part of him that was Thunderbird Two was assessing possibilities. There was only one course of action…

Hurrying to a nearby panel, on the wall, he scanned the options for the manor’s intercom and selected the one neatly labelled ‘Parker’. It the intercom system allowed for several people to carry small discreet comm units that allowed them to be contacted anywhere within the manor grounds. It as a very popular system for large houses, and Virgil had some very vivid (and entertaining) memories of his father arguing with the architect who was horrified to finally realise that the billionaire was not going to be employing a vast army of staff to run the household on the Pacific Island.

Parker responded almost instantly. “Yes, M–Mister Virgil?”

Virgil ignored the slight hesitation that showed Parker had very nearly called him ‘M’Lady’. A thoroughly understandable response when it was almost certainly Lady Penelope contacting him through the unit ninety-nine point nine, nine percent of the time, but, if Gordon ever found out…

Pushing the thought away (Gordon was safely away from the manor. On a date. With Lady Penelope.), Virgil replied, “Sorry to bother you, Parker, but there’s a, uh, small problem in the art gallery, I think you should now about.”

The alarm in Parker’s voice as he replied, “H’On my way, Mister Virgil,” gave Virgil a small pang of guilt, it was only a mouse, but he knew the ex-thief had an appreciation for art beyond its mere monetary value (although Virgil knew no-one – even prestigious art dealers – who had a betters sense of the potential price any work might fetch. Clearly crime’s gain was the art-world’s loss.)

It was a short interval, with Virgil keeping close watch for the reappearance of the mouse, before Parker appeared, unruffled as ever, but somewhat out of breath as though had run the a significant distance.

The feeling of guilt intensified, “Sorry, Parker, I didn’t mean to worry you, but it’s just there was a mouse…”

“H’A m’house!” the exclamation made Virgil jump. “Oh, Lord, that’s j’hust what H’I n’heed, a bleedin’ m’house runnin’ round the place. There’ll not be a m’homent’s peace until h’it’s furry ‘ide is ‘ung up h’on the h’estate walls h’as a w’harnin’ t’ others, t’ keep ha’way!”

Virgil stared. Parker’s agitation was certainly genuine, he’d never heard the man’s accent backslide so much, even when the man was trapped in a booby trapped pyramid tomb. But to get so worked up over a mouse…?

“W’ere w’has the l’hittle v’harmant?”

Virgil stared, “Uh, I first saw it there,” he pointed to the approximate spot, “and then it ran along the top of the wainscotting behind the Constable, and I haven’t seen it come out again. I tried to look behind, but there’s not enough light…”

Parker swore – an actual four-letter word, and not one of the many faux-Cockney euphemisms he was usually employed – and hurried off to examine the wainscotting. “Look’it!” he growled, pointing at what proved to be a stripe of discolouration along the paint just above the wainscotting, “bleedin’ m’house ‘ighway along ‘ere! I bloody knew it! Bloody lazy cows! ‘Ousekeeper’ll be ‘earin’ ‘bout this!”

Not paying Virgil any mind, the enraged butler, hustled to the doorway, where he opened a hidden panel and produced a key, which he inserted and inputted a rapid-fire sequence of keys. The panel gave a polite, mournful sounding little bleep and a l.e.d.-indicator turned from red to green. Parker all but ran back to the painting, and, firmly grasping either side of the frame, delicately lifted it off the wall and carefully set it propped against the wall in an out-of the way corner, where he grabbed one of the imitation Chippendale chairs, and leaned it, seat towards the wall, at an angle over the painting to protect it from being knocked.

The two stood and stared at the now-empty space where the painting had hung. There, neatly in the centre of the space the painting had occupied, was a neat void in the wall, about two inches across and two wide, where mice had obviously gnawed their way through the plasterboard into the walls of the manor.

Parker groaned. “Oh, ‘eck, this is a ruddy dis’haster! Look h’at what they’ve done.”

Virgil examined the hole, and pulled a stylus from his pocket, stuck it in the hole and fished around. He pulled the stylus back out and examined the end. “It doesn’t look like they’ve got a next right in here,” he offered. “And it looks like the insulations decayed away. All you’d need to do is pump in some of the new fire and rodent proof insulating foam and replaster over the hole.” A thought. “You’d still have to find where they got in, but you can certainly stop them from using this as an entry into the manor’s interiors.”

“Where they g’hot h’in,” Parker grumbled. “Proh’bably through th’ cracks that f’hormed when ‘Er L’hadyship l’hast tried screamin’ the ruddy ‘ouse down ‘cause she saw h’a bleedin’ m’house.”

Virgil stared, dimly aware his jaw was hanging loose an inch below it’s accustomed level. “I’m sorry, what?” he squeaked when he regained control of his facial muscles.

Parker started and flushed, “Oh, um, s’horry, Mister Virgil. H’I didn’t m’hean…” Parker took a deep breath and started again. “H’I’d h’appreci’hate it very much h’if you’d not me’hention that H’I’d mentioned M’Lady’s murophobia” – the word was pronounced with extreme care – “She’d n’hot thank h’either h’of us. H’A bit touchy h’on the s’hubject, ‘Er Ladyship h’is.” He shuddered.

“Murophobia?” Virgil asked, hoping desperately the word didn’t mean what he thought it meant.

“H’a fancy term whot means ‘fear h’of mice h’and r’hats.”

Virgil swallowed. “I’ll not say anything; but Parker, did Penny say anything about where Gordon was taking her today?”

Parker shook his head. “She didn’t know where they was goin’. Some s’hort h’of surprhise, h’apparently.”

“It’s gonna to be some surprise,” Virgil muttered to himself.

Parker stared at him with dawning horror. “‘E didn’t…!”

Virgil nodded. “Apparently it’s the One Hundred and Sixtieth International Mouse Club Show. Gordon loves critters, and he thought Lady Penelope would appreciate him taking her somewhere with ‘historic significance’…”

Even at the gallery in the furthest part of the manor from the grand entrance they heard the door slamming closed.

“Parker!” Virgil almost didn’t recognise Lady Penelope’s voice, he’d never heard her be anything pass ‘mildly miffed’, so the despairing wail was foreign.

Apparently in shock, Parker lifted the communicator. “Th’ G’hallery, M’Lady.”

In short order, Penelope burst into the room, her arrival heralded by high heels running on marble tiles. Virgil was shocked to fleetingly see she was crying, with mascara tracks down her face. As Penelope flung herself at Parker to sob uncontrollably into the butler’s shoulder, Virgil heard Gordon calling desperately for Penelope.

Sharing a glance with Parker, who nodded reluctantly nodded, Virgil lifted his own communicator. Keying for voice only contact with Gordon, he said softly. “Art Gallery.”

Again it was rapid footsteps that heralded an arrival, this time Gordon’s slightly squeaking poorly neglected Oxfords on the tile. “Penny, I’m so sorry! I had no idea, I swear! I’d never have taken you there if I’d know!”

Gordon’s frantic gabbled apologies competed with Penelope’s slowly abating sobs, and Parker’s soothing mantra of “There, there, m’lady. H’It’s h’alright. Ol’ Parker w’hon’t let h’anyting ‘appen to y’hou.”

Gordon eventually subsided into dejected silence, watching miserably as Parker gradually settled Penelope enough for her to gasp, “Oh, Parker it was terrible! Everywhere! They were everywhere! M-m-mice, a-and-and r…”

Parker shushed her again before she could upset herself any further. “H’It’s h’alright, M’Lady. They’s all s’hafely in London, and you’s ‘ere. Ol’ Nosey Parker w’hon’t let h’anything ‘appen to y’hou.”

His answer was a scared little girl whisper of “Promise?”

“H’I promise,” he replied. “H’And so does M’hister Gordon,” there was a glare at the aquanaut at this.

“I promise, Penny,” Gordon said softly. “I swear, I never knew. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

Penny slowly lifted her head from Parker’s shoulder. “I know,” she sniffed.

Gordon smiled weakly. “So no more surprise destinations?”

Penny nodded. “No more. Full disclosure before committing.” She still wasn’t quite looking at Gordon.

Which was a pity, because if she had been she wouldn’t have see what Virgil had been watching for the last twenty seconds.

The mouse was perfectly framed, perched in the centre of the hole gnawed into the wall, staring out at the quartet of giant beings occupying the room that was normally it’s sole domain.

Penelope’s piercing scream had Virgil rubbing his ears, and he had serious concerns for the integrity of Parker’s hearing, as she was still clinging to the butler. Until she pushed at him to get momentum to flee. By the time Parker regained his balance, Penelope had disappeared out the Gallery door.

Virgil sighed, and gestured to Gordon. “Get her into the jet,” he said. “Parker and I will get see that her bags get packed. She can stay at the Island while this gets sorted. There’s guaranteed to be no mice there.”

Gordon all but sprinted out of the door, determined to make amends and be the knight in shining armour that saved Penelope from the infestation.

Virgil turned back to Parker. “We’ll get her out of the way, do you need any help sorting that out?” He gestured to the mouse, now stretching out of its hole, and sniffing at the room.

Parker shook his head. “H’I’ll get the ‘ole damn manor loaded h’up with that f’home you were t’halkin’ h’bout,” he said grimly. Then he rubbed his ear, “H’and get me ‘earin’ checked. D’hamn near deafened me, she did.”

Parker looked around the room, assessing the situation. “Not much H’I can do ‘ere until we get the b’hlokes in,” he said, retrieving the Constable. “N’how I gotta find somewhere h’else to ‘ang this blessed thing,” he grumbled as he ushered Virgil out the gallery.

Virgil looked back into the room as Parker reactivated the Gallery’s security system, and secured the doors. His last glimpse as the doors swung shut, was of a scurry of movement as the mouse ran out of its hole, and down the wall to perch on it’s hind legs on the floor.

Surveying its undisputed kingdom.

Notes:

This story is inspired by my fur-phobic sister. Her reaction to her kids finding a nest of mice by their back fence reminded me of Lady Penelope’s hysterics in ‘The Mighty Atom’, so I’ve decided that her fear of mice holds true in TAG.

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

[rosemarydiely]

DIE 173

date

[pillow-fight1]

it came to me in a vision

alt ver:

[secr3tlover]

This was an assignment for my creative writing class but I wanted to share since I ended up liking this so much! I'm considering continuing the story for my own benefit, but wanted to see if anyone else likes it half as much as I did :) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maybe, just occasionally, my best friend was right about things. However, this was not one of those times. 

“...So that’s how I got into the stock market! You know, if you ever wanted to start investing, I could definitely help you out with that.” My date, Ryan? Or possibly Reid? smirked at me. I hadn’t gotten a chance to confirm what his name was once he started talking about his many accomplishments and luxurious life. 

I let out a fake laugh. “Sure.” An awkward silence sat between us. God, this was painful. I was going to kill Keyshia as soon as I got out of here. Finally, it got to be too much for me. 

He opened his mouth once more, but I quickly butted in. “Ralph,” hope I got that right. “I’m just going to head to the restroom really quick. Be right back.” I smiled warmly and quickly turned on my heels, evading the bar’s various patrons. I rolled my eyes when I thought about his choice of location once more. Not only was this place noisy and crowded, the booth we were currently sitting at had a weirdly sticky table and highly uncomfortable wooden seats. 

“Should’ve known better than to let the man pick the location, Harper.” I sighed and made my way to the bathroom. Quickly doing my business and washing my hands, I paused at the door. This date hadn’t even properly started. We’d be here less than thirty minutes, twenty-eight of which had been unbearable. Minus the two he’d allowed me to get a word in apart from replying to what he was saying. A drink could make things more bearable, I thought to myself. Or five. 

My mind settled, I made my way to the circular bar in the middle of the establishment, making sure to pick a side opposite from where Ryder? was waiting for me. Hopping on a stool, I waited patiently for a bartender to attend me, drumming my fingers on the counter. Soon enough, the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen stood before me. I blinked twice, taking her in. Short maroon-reddish hair sat on top of a striking face. Sharp features filled my view, an angular jaw and straight nose. Her arms were tan, lean, and muscled; tattoos littered among them. She was tall, taller than me, close to six feet. And her eyes. Dark, inky black eyes bore into me, every inch of them inviting. This woman was... hot didn’t accurately describe her. Tempting, enticing, a bad idea a voice in the back of my mind warned. 

“What can I get you, gorgeous?” The corner of her mouth twitched. My face warmed. 

After a moment, I swallowed and regained my composure. “Do you use that name on all your patrons?” 

She smirked. “Not all of ‘em.” Was that an accent I heard? 

“I’ll take a whiskey, neat.” 

She whistled. “That’s a strong drink, didn’t think a girl like you had the guts for it.” 

“Yeah, well. I’ll need it.” I muttered, glancing back over to where I’d left Rob? I seriously needed to ask for this guy’s name. 

A brow raised. “Rough night?” She asked, sliding the drink my way. 

I took a large gulp and winced. “You have no idea.” 

She let out a deep, sultry chuckle and I savored the sound. 

“Seems like your boy toy is waiting for you.” There was that small lilt of an accent again. Absentmindedly, I wondered if it became stronger when she was upset or more emotional. 

“Where are you from?” I blurted out, not wanting this conversation to end just yet. Anything was better than getting back to this miserable date. 

Her eyes twinkled and there was a small pause, before, “Mississippi. Moved here as soon as I turned eighteen.” Mississippi. A country accent then. 

“City life more your style?” 

Something imperceptible flashed across her eyes before she blinked it away and grinned cheekily at me. “Somethin’ like that.” 

I held her gaze for a moment before the sound of glass breaking broke me out of my reverie. Pun not intended. “Right, well,” I cleared my throat. “Thanks for... this.” I held my drink up. 

“Anytime.” 

My face lit up with a genuine smile before I turned away, making my way back to Rex? 

I forced myself to sit through another hour of boring conversation with Ryker—name now confirmed, hooray! —before I started genuinely questioning my sanity. I had refrained from ordering another drink when I figured I’d likely have to find my own way home. No way in hell I was getting into a car with this dude. 

Just when I thought I couldn’t take another second of this, some sort of divine intervention stepped in. 

“Hey, beautiful, you ready to go?” A warm hand rested on my lower back. I shifted to look up at this mysterious person and blinked once, twice. The cute bartender from before? I hadn’t gotten her name either. I was really on a roll tonight. 

“Huh?” 

“I said I’d take you home, ‘member? Seems like your date was coming to an end anyway.” My brows furrowed once more, and I opened my mouth to respond when her eyes widened slightly. Play along, she seemed to say. 

“Who the hell is this?” Ryker demanded. 

I forced a smile for his benefit. “Ryker, this is my friend...” 

“Quinn. Pleasure.” I pressed my lips together to hide a smile. The expression on Quinn’s face indicated it was anything but. 

“Well, Quinn, that’s nice of you to offer but our date is anything but over. I’m happy to take Harp home.” He said smugly. My eyes narrowed. I hated it when people called me Harp. 

“Actually, Ryker,” I pushed my irritation to the side as best as I could. “Quinn is right. I’m quite tired. I was just about to let you know I’d be heading home.” I pushed my way out of my seat. Quinn’s hand stayed where it was on my back, now tracing slow, idle circles. 

“But—” 

I didn’t let him finish. “Thanks for the food. Have a wonderful rest of your night.” 

The corner of Quinn’s mouth quirked up as I led her out of the bar and into the cold night air. I turned to her, fully prepared to sing her highest praises. 

“I can’t thank you enough for what you did back there. Seriously. I was genuinely preparing myself to fake a stroke to get out of that.” I joked. She threw her head back in laughter and stuck her hand in her pockets. I grinned, feeling accomplished that I’d made, what seemed like a very stoic and serious woman, laugh. 

“That bad, huh?” 

“That bad. Worse, actually. We sat there for two hours but it felt more like two days. Not to mention I think those were the most silent two hours of my life! I shared more words with you in that small interaction than I did throughout that entire date.” 

She snickered again. “I was happy to help, Harp?” She posed the last part as a question. 

I shook my head. “Harper. I hate when people call me Harp. Of course, that asshole wouldn’t know it because he didn’t bother asking.” 

“Harper.” She repeated, the sound pleasant on her lips. I didn’t know that it was possible for my name to sound so good on anybody’s lips. 

"Nice to meet you, Quinn.” 

“You too.” She smiled a real smile, and my breath caught in my throat for a moment. She’s beautiful. There was a small pause that bordered on awkward, before she filled it. “Hey, listen. I just finished my shift. I’d be more than happy to actually take you home if you needed a ride.” 

I raised a brow. “Hmm... I don’t know. How do I know you’re not just trying to kidnap me?” I teased. 

“That’s a good point,” She nodded. “You could always go back to Mr. Boring in there. I’m sure he’d be ecstatic you came back.” 

I huffed out a laugh and playfully pushed her shoulder. “Low blow!”  

She grinned at me. 

I glanced down at my feet, my cheeks warm despite the cold breeze, and spoke earnestly. “That would be great. I don’t live too far from here, if you wouldn’t mind.” 

“It’d be my pleasure, sweetheart.” 

“Lead the way then.” 

We made our way to Quinn’s car quietly, who had parked about two blocks from the bar. On the way there, I had shivered for the fifth time in the row—curse me for allowing Keyshia to convince me to wear a little black dress tonight—before Quinn had declared she’d had enough of my poor shivering and handed me her jacket. It was a warm, black leather jacket that I now sported, sticking my hands into it as soon as we’d reached the car. 

She owned a navy-blue sedan and gave the car a little rub before she’d hopped inside with me. I got the impression that this was more than just a car to her but a prized possession and smiled to myself. 

Once inside, she immediately turned on the heater, likely for my benefit, and I softly thanked her. 

“So, where am I takin’ you?” 

I gave her the address to my house and soon enough we were on our way. The silence that stretched between us wasn’t uncomfortable, I noticed, but calm. After a while, I broke it anyways. 

“So, I noticed you like, rubbed the head of your car before you got in. Is there any particular relationship I should be aware of? I wouldn’t want to get in between true love.” I teased, snickering to myself. 

Quinn grinned to herself and shook her head. Her hands rubbed absentminded circles on the wheel of her car. “I’ve had this car since I was eighteen. It’s what got me out of home. Guess I’m sentimental about it.” She shrugged. I hummed in response. 

“I like your tattoos.” I remarked. “They’re cool. I’ve always wanted tattoos myself, just never had the balls to get one.” 

Her eyes shifted my way before focusing back on the road and I thought I saw a smirk on her face. 

“Thank you.” 

“Any particular reason you got them?” 

“Yeah.” When she didn’t elaborate further, I figured she was tired from a long shift and let the matter drop. She offered a ride, not a get-to-know-each-other chat. A voice inside me sneered. I stamped down the thought and tried to keep my mind blank.  

“All my tattoos have some sort of personal meaning to them. I have a couple for my family, different experiences I’ve gone through, stuff like that.” She said after a while. 

I shifted to her, surprised she’d answered. 

“Oh, wow. I always thought if I were to get a tattoo it’d be of something I just thought was pretty but... I respect that.” 

She bowed her head in thanks. I hid a smile and looked out the window. Just then, my stomach decided it’d had enough and wanted to enter the conversation too. I cringed, great timing dude.  

Quinn raised a brow. “Hungry?” 

“Slightly... Ryk—I mean. Mr. Boring didn’t offer to get some food, and it slipped my mind.” I admitted. 

“I know a place. We’ll head there now.” 

“Oh, no, no! That’s not necessary. I have some leftovers at home I’m looking forward to eating anyway.” Not true, but Quinn didn’t need to know I was currently in the financial trenches. That was third-date type of information. Not that this was a date. It definitely wasn’t. Right? 

“Nonsense. Let me make up for that boy’s lacking.” 

“I swear it’s fine! I—” 

“Harper. Let me take care of ya.” She spoke low and deep, in a way that left no room for discussion and a slight shiver down my back. “Okay.” I squeaked in response. 

Fifteen minutes later, we were sitting in the parking lot of a shopping center’s eating the best burgers I’ve ever had. 

“My god.” I moaned through a bite. “Thishishsogood.” 

Quinn chuckled as she watched me engorge myself. “Told ya. Benny’s Burgers. Best place in town, and they’re open twenty-four-seven.” 

“I can’t believe I almost let you not take me to this place.” I shook my head, grinning. 

She snorted. “I wasn’t gonna take no for an answer, but it’s cute you think you had a choice.” 

My face warmed. “I must admit, you have definitely been better company than Mr. Boring.” 

She smirked. “That’s mighty praise.” 

“Do savor it. I don’t give such compliments often.” 

We both burst into laughter once more and after a couple minutes, finished our meals. 

“I suppose I should take you home now. I’m sure you have many more awful dates to go on, which you need your beauty sleep for.” 

“God, I hope not.” I laughed, taking a sip of the milkshake she’d also convinced me to get. Superior food taste and she insisted on paying for my food? Someone out there was looking out for me, bringing this woman into my life, even if it was just for a night. 

I looked up to find her staring at me with a peculiar look on her face. 

“What? Something on my mouth?” 

She pressed her lips together, shook her head, and turned to start the car up again. “No. Nothin’ like that.” 

Before I knew it, we were parked outside my apartment. I gathered my stuff quickly and began to shrug off her jacket when she stopped me. 

“Keep it. Looks nice on ya.” 

My mouth parted slightly. “Are you sure? I promise I’ll survive the two-minute walk in the cold to my apartment door.” I teased. 

“Positive.” 

“I’ll have to meet you sometime then.” I offered. “To give it back to you.” I added hurriedly. 

“I guess so.” She smirked. 

My face warmed and I hid a grin. “Well. Thank you for tonight. Seriously. You made what was turning into an awful night wasted, a million times better.” 

Her mouth curved into a smile. “My pleasure. Have a good night, Harper.” 

My lips pursed for a quick moment, and before I lost my nerve, I pressed a chaste kiss on her cheek. Her eyes widened at the action, and I quickly climbed out of the car. 

“Good night, Quinn.”