I'm the only one doing that.
Robin's phone buzzes halfway through the meal. He checks it and grins, a different kind of smile than the one he's been wearing all evening—softer, more genuine.
"Oh, would you look at that. Tyler is ready to go out. Work thing is finally over. And he wants me."
"It's Thursday," Toby says. "You have that birthday cake order tomorrow."
"Which is already done and you know it." Robin stands, grabbing his keys from the counter. "I'll be back late. Or not at all. Don't wait up."
He catches my eye as he passes, and for a moment his expression is serious.
Hurt him and I'll end you.
Then he's gone, the door clicking shut behind him, and suddenly we're alone.
The apartment feels different without Robin's energy filling it. Quieter. More intimate. I can hear the tick of a clock somewhere, the distant sound of traffic outside, Toby's slightly elevated breathing.
"More?" He gestures at my empty plate.
"I'm good."
"Right. Okay." He starts collecting dishes, nervous energy radiating off him in waves. "You probably need to go too. Back to the club or home or—"
"Toby."
He stops.
"Sit."
"The dishes—"
"Can wait."
He sits back down, perching on the edge of his chair, fidgeting with the edge of his cardigan. One of the cartoon carrots is winking at me. It's ridiculous. He's ridiculous.
I should go. This was already more than I planned—helping with groceries, dinner, Robin's interrogation, this quiet domesticity that makes my lion want to curl up and stay forever. I should leave before this gets more complicated, before I do something I can't take back.
"Thanks for dinner," I say, standing.
"Oh." Disappointment flickers across his face. "Yeah, of course. Thanks for helping with the groceries."
He stands too, walking me to the door. The hallway is narrow, and we're too close, and I can smell him—that warm sweetness, stronger now, mixed with soy sauce and sesame oil and something uniquelyhim.
We're at the door. I should leave. He's looking up at me through those glasses, bottom lip caught between his teeth, and I should definitely leave.
"Knox?"
"Yeah?"
"Would you—" He stops, takes a breath like he's steeling himself. "Never mind. It's nothing."
"What?"
"Just..." Another breath. "Would you maybe want to stay for coffee? Or tea? I have terrible instant coffee but Robin made brownies yesterday and they're actually amazing."
I should say no. I should walk out this door and go back to the club and put some distance between us before my lion does something stupid like claim him right here in this narrow hallway.
"Coffee sounds good," I hear myself say.
