We spend the next little while sneaking shy glances, cutting away to our menus when caught. Personally, mine could be written in German, for all I’m able to focus. When the waitress comes to collect our orders, I panic because I’ve been staring at pictures of food for six minutes but have retained absolutely nothing. “Um.” I pick the first meal I see. “I’ll have the Out of This World Cheeseburger.”
A tiny frown develops between Dylan’s eyebrows.
NowI remember that he didn’t recommend the burger and am about to ask for five more minutes to decide, when Dylan tells the waitress, “Guess I’ll have the biscuits and gravy, with bacon and eggs over easy.” Behind him, Morgan is holding up a spoon and angling it to see what’s going on at our table. His presence here has me so addled that I forget what Dylan and I were talking about, and we’re left to stare blankly at each other.
“So.” Dylan folds his hands on the table. “What have you been up to lately?”
I open my mouth to answer, but I’ve got nothing sensible to say. If I tell Dylan what’s actually going on in my life right now, he’s going to think I’m unwell.
“Just…keeping busy. Writing.”
A low snort issues from the next booth over. My blood pressure rises.
Dylan drums his fingers on the table. “Your series?”
“Something new, actually. I finished the series.” I bite my lip. “I’m almost afraid to ask what you thought ofCave of a Thousand Crystal Wings.”
He smiles sheepishly. “I haven’t gotten the chance to read it yet.”
“Oh! That’s fine, no rush. Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“No, it’s all right. I’ve beenmeaningto, but I’ve got a lot going on and…”
“Yeah. I get it.”
“Right.”
I point at the napkin dispenser. Most of the napkin dispensers in the diner are custom-made to look like the planet Neptune, but the ambitious owners must’ve run out of money because ours is a regular metal box with a Neptune sticker slapped on. “I think we picked an unlucky table.”
“Would you prefer to sit somewhere else?”
“No, I was only making a joke. The napkin dispenser. Uh…Neptune…”
He follows my line of sight, confused. “Oh. Ha.”
I scramble for an easy topic.Please, god, let the food arrive soon.“What haveyoubeen up to lately?”
“Prepping for the pickleball tournament in Athens.”
“Really? Sounds fun.”
“Everyone thinks pickleball sounds fun, but I promise it’s harder than it looks.”
“Ah. Yeah, I bet.”
My coffee arrives, and I rush to sip it, burning off the roof of my mouth.
“But if you want to give it a try,” Dylan replies, “I can see if there are still memberships available.”
“Um. That’s okay.”
“I’ll text you what I find out.”
Morgan drops onto the bench beside me. “Budge up.”
I gape at him. “What are you doing?” When I don’t move, he forcibly scoots me over with his hip.
Dylan cannot comprehend such rudeness. “May I help you?”
