Xan beamed. “It won’t come. He taught Greg that recipe himself. He gives them out constantly.”
Ezra wasn’t treating me special; he was just that nice. Disappointment pricked through the fluster. I folded my hands together and reminded myself that this was good. I was literally sitting across fromhis very male long-term partner. And Rowan and I were going to give it a go, maybe, if he ever got his contract sorted.
“Greg?” I changed the topic before I could melt into a pile of self-pity.
Xan studied me for a moment, as if he didn’t want to change the topic.
I held my breath.
“The baker for Wicked Wich,” Xan amended, stabbing his breakfast.
I let out a relieved breath and grinned. “You’re just really friendly, aren’t you?” I relaxed another notch.
Xan nodded and swallowed with a slight flush on his cheeks. “Everyone has a story worth telling.”
I wasn’t sure if I agreed with that, but good for friendly Xan. “Anyway, you need to trust him too.”
“The baker?” Xan asked, rubbing his chest and smirking. “I mean, I guess we eat his food, so we all trust him implicitly on some level.”
I picked up a half-empty saltshaker sitting on the table and lobbed it at him. I expected him to stop it with magic. Instead, he caught the glass jar with his hand, only for the top to fall off and spill salt everywhere. He let out a dramatic sigh and put the now-empty vessel back on the table.
Old Quinn would’ve apologized; new Quinn bit back a laugh. I relaxed in my seat and watched him attempt to brush a mound of salt off what was left of his scrambled eggs. “Trust Ezra. You knew that’s what I meant.”
Xan smirked.
“Quinn.”
I turned to the sound of Rowan’s voice. He stepped up to our table and pulled his shoulders straight, putting his hands behind his back asif at attention. Dark bags hung under his eyes. He wasn’t giving me a single detail about his situation with Angela, but I knew it wasn’t going well.
I reached out and gripped his arm. “Is everything all right?”
His forearm was tense and didn’t relax at my touch. It must be going really, really badly.
“Yeah. It’s not smooth, but the process has started.” Rowan glanced at Xan.
Right, he didn’t want to talk about this in front of a stranger. I squeezed him before letting go.
“This is Xan; he’s Ezra’s partner.” I introduced the two. “Xan, this is Rowan. He’s one of Ezra’s generals and has been working with me on combat skills. I’m a lost cause, but Rowan keeps trying.”
“One of Ezra’s generals? My partner must have a high opinion of you.” Xan motioned to a third chair I didn’t remember being there. “Have a seat, Rowan.”
Rowan lowered himself, spine rigid, hands braced on his thighs. I wasn’t used to him looking so formal. Opposite him, I shoveled more food into my face, not willing to waste a single bite.
“Are you enjoying working together?” Xan asked.
“Yes, sir,” Rowan answered.
I slowed down my chewing and raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t need that type of formality with me and Quinn,” Xan said, his eyes twinkling. “I’m just Ezra’s partner, Xan. You can relax.”
Unease burned in Rowan’s gaze. He nodded, but didn’t relax.
“I’m really bad at everything,” I said after swallowing, trying to ease the weird tension. “But Rowan’s really patient. I swear he can feel when my muscles are going to give out. I’ve never been pushed so hard in my life.”
Xan hummed. “That’s quite the talent.”
Rowan grimaced.
