They each held a bottle of beer. The White Sox game played on the TV for lack of anything more interesting to watch. Ryan shifted in his seat. He hadn’t been able to get Quinn out of his head for the past week. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted her, and the more he realized he needed to distance himself from her. Nothing was working, though. “If you don’t sit still, I’m going to hit you. What’s wrong?” Griffin threw one arm over the back of the couch and leaned back into the corner. “It’s Quinn.” “How can you be so hung up on her? You just met.” “I’m not hung up. I told her I’d help her with her list. What do you know about speed dating?” “Not much. I’ve never done it. All I know is a bunch of people move from table to table and try to hook up in a couple of minutes.” “I’m thinking of setting up a speed dating night at O’Leary’s.
