Page 86 of Kiss and Make Love

I knew there weren’t any guys here for me. The thought of spending the next half hour going through six more dates made me want to rip off my skin. Quinn, however, hada charming disposition and a pleasing voice. Her laugh was cute, and she had a freaking dog named Bert. If I was going to take one chance today, this was it.

I cleared my throat. “This is going to sound forward, and please correct me if I’m getting this wrong, but…do you wanna get out of here? Together? Grab a drink?”

“Right now? Just leave the event?” A slight hesitation made her voice waver, but she didn’t sound uninterested.

“Why not? Have you met one normal man in the last ten minutes?” I snorted.

Though I couldn’t see her, I could feel something in the air shift between us.

“Let’s do it. You seem cool, and I think our dogs have to meet. It’s probably like a law or something.”

I reached out for her and found her arm. She didn’t pull away, so I slid my palm down her forearm until it reached her hand. “Come on,” I said, pulling her up, out of her seat, and toward the only light in the room—a bright red exit sign.

Using the sign as a beacon, we made our way through the dark, hands clutched together, trying our best not to run into anything or anyone.

“Oof,” I groaned.

“Are you okay?” Quinn whispered behind me, trying not to break out into a fit of giggles.

“Yeah. I think I hit a table or a desk or something,” I snorted out, doing my best not to draw attention to my fumbling.

“Is someone walking around? The session hasn’t finished yet. Please take your seats,” Lauren called out.

“Why does she yell everything she says?” Quinn asked, no longer whispering, every other word punctuated with laughter.

“Oh my gosh, I thought I was the only one who noticed that!” I chuckled, doing my best not to break into a fit of hysterics. “Shit,” I mumbled, bumping into another chair.

“Hey, watch it,” came Mr. Douche Canoe’s voice.

“Sorry, bud,” I squealed, unable to hold back my laughter any longer. Big, rumbling fits broke free, and I was practically doubling over while pulling Quinn behind me.

“Was that the deep fry guy?” she asked, much too loud.

“Who’s talking about me?” Mr. Deep Fry hollered from the right side of the room.

“No one!” Quinn yelled, pushing me toward the exit.

“Everyone sit down! This is a serious place where people come to find a serious partner! I won’t tolerate any monkey business,” Lauren shouted.

“Go!” Quinn howled in my ear.

Two more steps, and I was at the exit door, Quinn hot on my heels, pushing through into the fading light of the evening.

I spun to face her, eager to see her in full. In no way was I prepared for what I saw.

Jet black hair.

Warm tan skin.

Cute, oversized glasses.

Deep brown eyes.

Quinn was Quinn Park. My best friend from high school.

“Megan Bishop? Citadel High class of ‘09?” Quinn asked, staring at me like I had eight extra eyes or something.

The grin on my face stretched from ear to ear. “Quinn Park! Well, shit. I haven’t seen you since we graduated. What’s it been…fifteen years?”

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