I’m ready to argue the point further, but blonde hair catches sunlight at the far end of the table.
Lulu.
Bare shoulders shaking, her laugh spilling out warm enough to thaw the room. Charlie murmurs something as she sets a green smoothie in front of her, and Lulu beams that huge smile of hers.
She’s all gold and glitter and easy joy, like she wandered in from a happier universe. Flour dust streaks her knuckles—gluten free, no doubt—and there’s a pale blue bow clipped high on her ponytail, defiant and ridiculous and somehow perfect. For someone else.
She looks up as if she felt me sit down, and our eyes catch. Her pink lips do that soft, surprised curve I’m not supposed to notice.
I look away first, because it’s none of my business.
Miso saunters toward Tamara and fishes under the table for her toy. She emerges with the decapitated Logan figurine, bracesthe stump of the arm between her paws, and goes to town with a grim, delighted purpose, the squeaker wheezing like distant sirens.
“Is there a reason your dog is reenacting a mob hit with my likeness?”
“She only destroys the ones she loves,” Tamara says sweetly. “And criminals.”
Jake snorts and Zoe’s mouth tilts. Reid doesn’t look up, but his shoulders shake.
“Eat,” Eli orders, sliding the bacon platter down. “And this time, we’re doing civilized conversation like normal people.”
“Define normal,” Zoe says.
“Don’t,” Reid advises.
I reach for another mug and barely get my coffee poured before Chase leans back with a grin.
“So, Lulu,” he drawls. “Catch any goodpodcastepisodes lately?”
She narrows her eyes. “What?”
Zoe doesn’t even bother looking up from buttering her croissant. “He means the podcast you blasted down the street the other morning. Logan said the whole neighborhood heard.”
Lulu’s green glass pauses halfway to her mouth, and her blue eyes cut to mine. “Youtold everyone?”
I keep my face blank and sip my coffee slowly.
“Correction.” Chase smirks, raising his mug. “He just told us. During informal skate this week.”
The table erupts with chuckles from everyone apart from Eli, who was still in Cabo and doesn’t get the joke.
“What the hell are you talking about? What podcast?”
Tamara, who has clearly been filled in by Zoe, wipes tears from her eyes. “Clit Talk Confidential,” she manages between laughs. “It’s a sex podcast Lulu was listening to, that talks about—what is it again?—‘no orgasm, no moan’?”
“Oh my god, it waseducational.”
“Educational?” Chase arches a brow. “Sounded like a live demonstration.”
Lulu presses her palms over her face, but then suddenly drops them, eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Exactly,” she says brightly, locking onto Eli and daring him to have an opinion. “No man gets the moan unless he earns the orgasm. Fair’s fair, right?”
Eli makes a strangled noise. “Jesus Christ, Tallulah.”
Chase nearly falls off his chair laughing, and Zoe’s smirk could slice through concrete. Tamara is dabbing at her eyes through chuckles, and Charlie is pink from choking on her mimosa.
I should keep my mouth shut, but the bait’s dangling, and I’m no saint.
