Bad Luck (quinn hughes x oc)

XII.

𝚀𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚗

At the end of their meal, Quinn's ribs hurt from laughing so hard. He and Georgia had spent nearly two hours exchanging stories about their childhood-about the times they got into the most trouble, about the stupid fights they'd had with their brothers growing up. When Georgia told him about the time she'd locked Jensen in their garage and told her parents he must have run away forever, Quinn was left breathless with laughter.

"He deserved it!" Georgia had exclaimed through her own giggles. "He pissed in the toilet tank!"

When the check came to their table, Quinn didn't even look up at Georgia before grabbing it. He was still chuckling as he pulled several bills from his pocket and placed them atop the receipt. Georgia opened her mouth like she might protest, but Quinn was already on his feet, one hand extended to her.

"Ready?" he prompted.

For several moments, Georgia glanced between his outstretched hand and the bills on the table, which she was clearly recognizing amounted to far more than the cost of the two burgers they'd shared.

"But," she stammered, pointing to the bill.

Quinn wrapped his fingers around the hand she had lifted and tugged her gently out of the booth. "I like to leave extra for Len," he told her with a shrug.

With her free hand, Georgia adjusted Quinn's coat around her shoulders and assured him, "I can pay you back."

"No way," Quinn laughed. Over his shoulder he called, "Thanks Lenny! Have a good night! You as well, Mary." He smiled at the waitress and offered her a wave.

She replied, "Stay warm out there, guys."

Quinn promised her that they would as he held the door open for Georgia with a smile. Sure enough, the air outside was bitterly cold, but when he saw Georgia bury her cheeks a little further behind the collar of his coat, Quinn felt warm all over. He adored her more than he thought possible in such a short period of time. But he knew better than to say it aloud-the last thing he wanted was to scare Georgia away.

He also didn't want to leave her now, though he had no more excuses for places to take her, considering it was nearing midnight on a Sunday. Georgia had been to his apartment in the city before, but that was different. That was just to apologize for throwing her whole life for a loop. If he invited her back now, it would almost certainly suggest ulterior motives-like getting her into his bed. Really, he just wanted more time with her, wanted to keep holding her hand and laughing with her all night.

As they walked back in the direction of the arena, where Georgia's car still sat, she asked, "Do you guys have a game tomorrow?" Her big brown eyes gave nothing away when they landed on him: if she was asking because she, too, didn't want the night to end, Quinn couldn't say. He had never been all that great with girls.

"No, no game," he replied, managing a little smile of reassurance.

It made Georgia smile, too, which was quickly becoming his favorite thing in the world. "Unfortunately, I do have work tomorrow," she sighed.

Of course, you dumbass, Quinn scolded himself. Not everybody plays hockey for a living and so can do whatever they want on the days they aren't playing.

Aloud, Quinn remarked, "Fucking accounting."

"Yes," Georgia agreed through a laugh.

It was one of the many things he'd learned about Georgia over the course of the evening-one of the many things he wasn't going to forget. Apparently she was the only woman who worked in her department, which-weirdly-made him feel that internal caveman-like itch of jealousy. He thought about that afternoon at his apartment, when one of her co-workers had called her and she'd gotten so flustered and panicked. Almost like she didn't want him to see.