“Because she was.” Quinn looks at Archer, and everyone realizes what’s going on at the same time.
“Why did you tell me your name was Blaire?” Dean slowly turns his gaze back to me.
“Because I’d just met you in a bar,” I say, feeling like everything is happening in slow motion.
“I was the loser you were supposed to go out with. The jobless, man-child.” He turns back to Quinn. “You suck at setting people up.”
“I didn’t say that.” Quinn picks up a cute little girl, looking as uncomfortable as I feel.
“I…I…I should go.” My fingers shake and my cheeks burn as I open my wristlet and pull out enough cash to cover my portion of the bill. I slide out of the booth and stand. “Never mind, I didn’t drive.” I start to dig my phone out of my little purse. “I’ll call an Uber.” I look at Dean and am taken back by the anger reflected in his blue eyes.
“I didn’t know you were my blind date,” I say. “If I did, I wouldn’t have canceled.”
His jaw tenses, and his brow furrows even more. “Just go.”
“Dean,” Quinn scolds. “Don’t be rude.”
“Rude?” He sweeps his hand out at me. “I didn’t blow off a date with a loser and then lie about who I am.”
“Oh please,” I blurt, surprising myself. “You took me home for one reason and one reason only, and I think I checked off that box for you. Twice.” I take a step and falter, heel catching on the hem of the long pants. “I’ll drop off your clothes…later,” I add pointedly.
“Wait,” Quinn says, setting the little girl down. “I’ll drive you. There’s like one Uber in Eastwood.”
“I can wait.”
“You could be waiting for hours.”
I let out a breath and steal one last look at Dean, heart hurting more than I expected it to. He was supposed to be one night of unbridled fun.
And he was.
Yet I want more.
Dammit.
“At least eat first.”
Quinn waves her hand in the air. “Archer knows my order. It’s not that far to the apartments from here. You did move in there, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“Then we’re going.” She gives Archer a kiss and motions for me to follow her. “Come on.”
I give Dean one last look and if there was a contest for avoiding my eye, he’d win.
“I’m sorry about him,” Quinn says once we’re outside. “He’s a drama queen.”
“So you know him?”
She stops in her tracks. “Right. You have no idea. He’s my brother.”
“Oh my gosh. That makes this even worse. I swear I didn’t know. Hilary didn’t even tell me his name, just that she was letting Dr. Jones know I was taking her place. I’m so sorry.”
“Look, I get it. You meet a guy at a bar and you give him a fake name. I’ve done it before.”
“At least I didn’t pretend to be British this time,” I mutter. “I didn’t think he’d be so mad. I mean…the first thing he told me was how he wanted to lick whiskey off my breasts.”
“Ew. Well, no. Not ew because of you, but because he’s my brother and he…he’s been through a lot the last year. He came home to find his wife in bed with another man. Hence his issue with being lied to.”
“Oh,” I say, stepping in a snow drift. My poor toes are freezing. “I had no idea.”
“I doubt he leads with that. But I’ll give you inside information.” Quinn unlocks a black Escalade and motions for me to go to the passenger side.
“Thanks, but I don’t think he wants to see me again.”
“You’re the first woman he’s taken out to breakfast,” Quinn says and pulls her seatbelt on. “So you must have made an impression on him.”
“Yeah, a bad one.”
Quinn shakes her head and fires up the engine. Rotten to the Core comes on and she quickly turns it down. “Sorry. My kids love Descendants. And I do too.”
“So do I. I was Evie for Halloween last year.”
“No way.” She twists in her seat, looking at me with a smile on her face. “Every year, my brothers do this anti-love party at their bar and people are supposed to dress up as bad guys or villains. I’m going as Mal and my friend—and sister-in-law—is going as Audrey during her Queen of Mean phase.”
“That sounds fun.”
“You should go with us!” Quinn puts the SUV in reverse and slowly backs out of the parking space.
“Maybe,” I say, feeling weird all over again. I liked Quinn from the short bit we talked on the phone, and knowing that she’s a fellow adult who loves made-for-TV Disney movies gives her bonus points.
“Don’t feel bad about the whole Dean thing,” she says, as if she can read my thoughts. “He’s always been dramatic like that, and after the divorce…it was ugly. He’s not a player either, not really. He’s…he’s regressed or something.”