Easton nods once. “She’s good for you.”
Ryan’s gaze stays steady on mine. “You’re good for her too.”
I want to be.
Holy fuck, I want to be.
Briggs clears his throat, like too much sincerity might kill him if it stays in the air too long. “For the record, I liked Bennett before you made this your whole personality.”
“She was never my whole personality.”
“Mercer, you’ve checked your phone seven times since we left the locker room.”
“Eight,” Ryan says.
Briggs points at him. “Thank you. See? Brotherhood is accountability.”
Rider nods. “Also harassment.”
“Same family,” Briggs says.
I shake my head, but I can feel my mouth trying to move. “She was your lab partner.”
“Sophomore year,” Briggs says proudly. “We almost got banned from the building.”
“You lost fire,” I say.
“I temporarily misplaced flame.”
Rider looks impressed. “How do you lose flame?”
“With confidence,” Briggs says. “And Bennett distracting me by arguing that the periodic table was badly branded.”
“She said that?”
“She had notes. A lot of them. Color-coded.”
Of course she did.
The thought hits me before I can stop it, warm and sharp at the same time. Bliss in a lab with Briggs is probably the kind of thing campus safety still talks about in low voices. Two disasters with access to chemicals and no adult supervision.
“You’re smiling,” Easton says.
“I’m not.”
“You are,” Rider says. “It’s creepy.”
Briggs sighs. “Look at him. All happy and domesticated. Makes me sick.”
“Backup deodorant isn’t domesticated.”
“It’s at least engaged.”
Ryan finally laughs under his breath.
I look at him. “Traitor.”
He lifts one shoulder. “That was funny.”
