We headed inside the bar and found a high-backed booth near the back. It sat across the back wall so we both had an excellent view of the door.
"I'm going to bet she is from North Dakota," Quinn nodded towards a particularly pale tourist who was shivering in a tank top.
"Too bad no one told her it gets cold in the desert at night," I said.
"This place is bigger than I thought," Quinn observed.
I enjoyed watching her look around the familiar bar. It had one long, scarred wooden bar, the line of booths we sat in, two pool tables, a darts corner, and a small sunken dance floor that remained packed at all times. The windows had steamed up from the dancers already in motion.
"I found this place a few years back," I said. "And you didn't think I went out."
Quinn smiled. "Let me guess, you came here to dance."
"Not exactly my thing. Do you like to dance?" I asked. I could imagine her moving easily among the gyrating people. The image was very tempting.
"Yeah. Trent and I love, I mean, we loved to dance," Quinn said. Her eyes drifted back to the small dance floor and I saw them go wide again. "Oh, my God. Speak of the devil."
I signaled the waiter to bring us two shots and two beers. Quinn looked like she definitely needed another drink. Then, I turned to look in the direction she was staring. I caught sight of a tall, lanky man with dyed white hair. He stuck out in the crowd, not only for his hair, but for his wild moves. Trent was drawing as much attention to himself as possible.
"Please tell me that is not your ex-boyfriend," I said, even though I knew it was.
"Do you think he's here with that guy?"
"If they didn't come together, I would not be surprised if they left together. Shit, sorry, Quinn."
"No, it's alright. Obviously he's really broken up over our break-up," she said. She pulled out her phone.
"No. Wait. What are you doing?" I asked. I lunged across the booth for her phone, but she pulled back.
"Just letting him know that I'm at my parents if he wants to come and talk."
"You think he's going to make the four-hour drive from UCLA to talk about your relationship?" I asked.
"You would. Wouldn't you?" Quinn said.
I was glad the drinks arrived. Before she noticed, I tipped back both shots and signaled the waiter for another round. Watching Quinn be tortured by an obviously awful ex-boyfriend was going to take a high level of intoxication.
"Besides," Quinn said, typing furiously on her phone, "he's not in L.A., he's here. So it would be easy for him to tell me he was already on his way. You know, play the hero."
Trent's flailing arms dropped when she pressed send. In the midst of the dance floor, he pulled his phone from his pocket and checked it. A pleased smile spread across his face before he shoved the phone back in his pocket without a response.
Quinn grabbed her beer with both hands and groaned into the foam. "Oh God, of course. He doesn't even care. Did you see that smile? All he cares about is that I still have feelings for him."
"Do you?" From where I sat, he looked like a grade A douchebag.
"Yes. No. We were never really that serious but it still hurts, you know? He just used me to feed his ego," Quinn said. She picked up the pint and took a long drink. "Hey, didn't you order shots?"
I laughed. "Yeah, they're on their way. So, besides getting drunk, what are you going to do?"
She took another long drink. "I suppose you would not help me with a Coyote Ugly type take-over, would you?"
"Sweetheart, there is not enough alcohol in this bar for that," I said. "I'm sure there are other ways you could make him jealous. Is he really worth that much effort?"
She looked back at the dance floor. Trent was sandwiched between two enthusiastic girls while flirting with the man over their heads. "He was always the life of the party."
"That's a terrible reason to stay with someone," I said.
"Yeah, I know. I guess it was just sort of effortless," Quinn said. "We got together, had fun, and never fought."
"Until you caught him with another guy."
The shots arrived and Quinn grabbed hers immediately. "Yeah, there is that. Ugh, I can't get that out of my head."
"This might help. Cheers," I said. We knocked back the shots. "Alright, now that you've had that, I have to say he looks like a complete asshat."
Quinn laughed. "That's exactly what Sienna said. She made me promise she could be there when he met our parents. Can you imagine?"
"So, I still don't get it," I said. "Why did you date him?"
She scrunched up her nose and gave me an adorable, cringing smile. "He was a good kisser."
"Next round is on you and now I definitely need another shot," I said.
Quinn's smile faded as she watched him flirting around the dance floor. "I wonder why he dated me."
"Are you kidding?" I asked. I got up and joined her on her side of the booth. "Just look at you."
"Exactly. I'm dressed as if I've been hanging out in my parents’ basement. Oh, wait, that's exactly what I've been doing."
"We can fix that," I said. "May I?"
She held her hands up, her beer in one. "Be my guest."
I dug both hands into her chestnut hair. It was just as thick and soft as I always imagined. I rubbed my fingers along her scalp and avoided her eyes. "Didn't your sister teach you the trick for fuller and perfectly mussed hair?"
Quinn slapped my hands away. "Alright, fine." She fluffed her roots up then combed her fingers through the shiny waves.
"Now unbutton the bottom buttons, tie them in a bow," I said, eyeing her light blue shirt. "And take my belt. Cinch it tight around that tight little waist."
Quinn giggled and stood up to follow my directions. A glimpse of her flat stomach had me reeling harder than the shots. "How's this?"
I reached up. "Just a few more buttons to undo here." I slowly undid two buttons to reveal the smooth, perfect tops of her breasts.
"Is he looking?" Quinn asked.
"Use both hands to flip your hair and wiggle your hips a little while you do it," I said. My voice was gruff, but she heard me.
Raising her hands up revealed more of her flat stomach and tight waist. More than a few customers appreciated her curves. Then, Quinn shook her hands through her long hair and more heads turned. I sat frozen in the booth. If I stood up, I would take her in my arms and never let go.
"Oh my God, I think it worked. Is he coming over?" Quinn asked. She shifted from foot to foot, letting her hips sway.
"What? Oh, yeah. Looks like he's coming over. Oh, and he is not looking happy," I said.
Quinn's strawberry lips curled. "Good. Now what?"
"You want to make him jealous, right?" I asked, my heart hammering.
"Yes. He deserves it, don't you think?"
"Who the hell cares about him?" I said.
I stood up and slid my hands around Quinn's waist. My fingertips touched bare skin under her light blue shirt. It was like silk and suddenly, I was on fire. I pulled her hard against me, bending her back as my lips captured hers.