Page 55 of Taming Irish

“I did,” I admit on a sigh. No point dragging it out, when it’s the reason I calledher.

“It’s about freaking time. How was it? Who was it? Tell me. I want all thedetails.”

“It was…” I close my eyes, shivering at the memory. “Perfect. He’sperfect.”

Silence.

“Quinn?”

She sighs, and says warily, “You likehim.”

“You say that like it’s a badthing.”

“I just know you. When you give your heart, you give itall.”

“You’re the one that told me I needed to meetsomeone.”

“I told you to have sex.Notfall inlove.”

“I’m not in love. I barely know the guy. We’re just…friends.”

“Mhm. And I’m Mother Teresa,” she saysknowingly.

“Maybe her alter ego,” Itease.

She chuckles. “So, what’s this guy’s name? And do I have to send one of my brothers to make sure hebehaves?”

“No.” I hesitate before answering. “And his name’sShane.”

“Last name, please. And date of birth, if possible. I want to make sure I do a full Googlesearch.”

“Seriously,Quinn.”

“And you haven’t?” When I don’t answer, she exhales loudly. “Rule number two from my dating handbook, don’t leave the house with the guy until he passes the Googletest.”

I roll my eyes. Sometimes, I think she has more trust issues than Ido.

“Yes, I Googled him,” Iadmit.

“And?”

I inhale deeply before admitting, “His name’s ShaneHayes.”

There’s that blasted silenceagain.

She finally lets out a low whistle. “As in Wild Irish’s ShaneHayes.”

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit.” She sounds impressed. “Welldone.”

I laugh at the approval in her voice. “It was only onetime.”

That’s not exactly true. But it was just one night. I won’t have sex with himagain.

“So, you’re not going to see himagain?”

“Well…”

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