Crazy Eights (Stacked Deck #8) - Emilia Finn Page 0,96
at me?”
He stops beside an empty booth and pushes me in. No hesitation, no consideration for what I want or where I want to sit. “Nope. I was a scorned man, Q. I wasn’t in the mood for closet fucking.”
He’s still scorned. Still angry.
“Why do you call me Q?”
He shrugs and accepts a couple of menus when a server comes by our table, and orders two Cokes – without asking what I want. He then opens his menu, and sits back so his arm rests on my shoulders.
Comfortable?
“I call you Q because your real name, the one you were born with, is Quinn.”
“I never told you that.”
He flips his menu and reads, seemingly uninterested in me. “Let’s call it intuition. Quinn is also a boy name that can be used for a girl, by the way. Victoria is not. Makes me wonder why you chose that name for your most current ID.”
It’s clear I’m not going anywhere for the next little while, so I take my menu and start reading. “No reason. It’s a decent enough name, comes with a cute nickname, and I turn when someone says it.”
“So it’s handy?”
“Mmhm. I wonder if the chicken burger is decent here.”
Jamie glances away from his menu, and looks at mine. “Maybe.” He looks into my eyes for a second and grins. It’s small, and doesn’t reach his eyes. But it’s his attempt at friendliness, I guess. An olive branch extended. “Order it, and I’ll get something else. If you decide you don’t like the burger, I can swap with you.”
“What are you gonna get?”
He shrugs and brings his menu closer to read it. “Nachos, maybe.”
“I like nachos.”
He chuckles. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
He looks up and alerts the server that we’re ready, and not more than a minute later, she delivers our drinks and leaves with our order.
Once she’s gone, and Jamie settles in comfortably and opens his legs obnoxiously wide, he takes a sip of his drink and lets his gaze flick between my chin and my eyes. “I’m surprised you haven’t already asked to go to the bathroom so you can escape out the window.”
I gasp, loud and dramatic enough that I draw the attention of the guys at the pool table. “I would never!”
“Liar,” he snorts. “When you inevitably decide you have to pee, you should know that I’ll be coming with you.”
I lift my nose to the air and shake my head. “You’re not allowed in the ladies’ bathroom.”
“Well of course not. You’ll be peeing in the dirt outside, silly. I’m not letting you go, Q, so the sooner you stop trying to escape, the sooner we can start getting along.”
“Whyyyy?” I lament. “Why oh why does this sound like a cheap horror movie? ‘Just relax, Q. Just let it happen. It’ll slide right in’.”
“Still speaking like a lady, I see.” Jamie slides my Coke closer, then takes his own and sips. “I was always so attracted to your cussing and bad attitude.”
“Yeah, well, we’re not all momma’s boys, you know? I studied at the College of Awesome for years to reach this level of snark. I even took night classes so I could get the extra credit. You can’t shame me out of it now.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I like this song.” He nods toward the jukebox playing a country song that speaks of getting to know a woman. Of having a drink at a bar, dancing, falling in love. “When’s your real birthday?”
I’ve been training my entire life to get through these discussions with as much smudging as I need for my stories to be convincing – my stint at Hogwarts, notwithstanding. The lies come so naturally to me, I barely even have to think about it. But since I pride myself on annoying him, I return his question and evade mine. “When’s yours?”
He snorts. “Nice evasion. My birthday is in February. But you already knew that.”
I lean into his side – because, hell, he’s comfortable – and draw patterns into the condensation on the side of my glass. “I did know that. I may or may not have stalked you after the first Stacked Deck.”
“Back before you even loved me.”
Ha. That’s what he thinks. “Which makes you a Pisces. Have you ever studied astrology?”
“Uh… nope. Can’t say I have.” He brings his soda up and takes a long sip. “Should I have?”
I shrug. “The star sign Pisces is represented by two fish swimming in opposite directions.” I meet his eyes. My blue, to