Page 12 of Chasing After Forever

“Ri-ight.” She dragged the word out, making me wonder exactly what had been discussed prior to my showing up.

“Hey, cuz. I see you met Delaney.” Quinn strode into the cafe, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. He clapped me hard on the shoulder, then took a seat next to me.

“Alright, I’ll let you boys talk. Pies don’t bake themselves.” Delaney stood, dropping a kiss on Quinn’s lips before heading back to the kitchen. Quinn’s eyes followed her until the door swung shut.

“I didn’t know you had it in you,” I smirked, taking a sip of coffee.

Quinn narrowed his grey eyes at me. “What?”

“Monogamy. It looks good on you,” I said, teasing. I’d never seen Quinn with a serious girlfriend before.

“Shut up,” he said, grinning at me and kicking my shin under the table. “How’d things end up for you last night?”

“Fine. Ryder and I finished our game of pool, then he dropped me off at your apartment.”

“Huh.” Quinn’s mouth twisted to the side, one brow quirking up.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just thought you might have scored a certain bartender’s number is all.” His lips twitched as my face flamed.

“Actually, about that bartender. You have a good mechanic around here? I ran into her in the apartment lot this morning. She had car trouble and I gave her a ride to work.”

“Really? You’re a real knight in shining armor.”

My cheeks burned even hotter, but I continued. “I took her car keys and told her we’d try to fix it today.”

“Haven’t lost your Southern charm then,” Quinn said, smirking. “I suppose we could work that in. C’mon, we better get going.” He rose and I followed his lead.

“I never paid Delaney for breakfast,” I said, trailing behind him.

Quinn waved a dismissive hand at me. “I’m sure it’s on the house.”

I tossed him the keys and we drove back to his apartment building.

“It’s the Civic, right?” Quinn cocked his head at the black Honda.

“Yeah.”

He pulled next to the car and grabbed her key from me, unlocking the door. He attempted to crank the engine, but only a series of clicks rattled out, just as Macy had described.

Quinn stuck his head out. “I’ll bet it’s the battery. I’ve got jumper cables in the back.”

I fetched the cables and Quinn popped the hood, clamping and connecting what I hoped were the proper wires. I didn’t have a whole lot of experience in this department; had it been up to me, I would have called AAA.

“Okay, I need you to crank the truck. Rev when I say.”

I nodded, climbing into the driver’s seat and following his instructions.

“Now,” Quinn shouted, signaling to me.

I depressed the accelerator, sending juice to the dead Civic, and it hummed back to life.

“Alright, follow me to the mechanic. She needs a new battery.”

We drove through town, eventually pulling up to a large metal garage namedChevy’s.Parking, we swung into the lobby, the strong odor of rubber and oil coating my nostrils.

“What’s up, Quinn?” A guy with a scruffy beard and a flannel shirt grinned at Quinn from across the counter.

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