“It’s really not.”
“Look,” Quinton said, pocketing his phone, “I won because I know you, Julien. I’ve watched you be miserable for three years. Precise, competent, professionally successful, and absolutely miserable. And then Athena showed up, and you lookedalivefor the first time since I’ve known you.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You were,” Hayden said gently. “You were miserable. We all knew it. We just didn’t know how to help.”
“And then the universe sent you a chaos agent in human form,” Fitz said. “And you fought it. God, did you fight it.”
“But you lost,” Nathan said, grinning. “You lost, and it’s the best thing that ever happened to you.”
“I didn’t lose,” I said. “I chose.”
“You chose to surrender,” Quinton said. “Which is what I bet on. So thank you for the twelve hundred dollars.”
“I hate all of you.”
“No, you don’t,” Winnie said. “You love us. You’re just embarrassed that we were right.”
“I’m not embarrassed.”
“You’re blushing again,” Gabriel pointed out.
“I’m not.”
“You absolutely are,” Fitz said. “Your face is the color of a tomato.”
“It is not.”
“It really is,” Nathan agreed.
I closed my eyes again and counted to ten, then reminded myself that murder was illegal and I’d worked too hard on my career to throw it away over workplace ribbing.
“Are we done?” I asked.
“Are you going to keep showing up late in sneakers?” Fitz asked.
“Possibly.”
“Are you going to keep being happy?” Nathan asked.
“Probably.”
“Are you going to keep having transformative sex with your wife?” Gabriel asked.
“That’s none of your—”
“He is,” Quinton said. “Look at his face.”
“I’m looking,” Fitz said. “That’s definitely the face of a man who’s planning more transformative sex.”
“Can we PLEASE,” I said, my voice rising, “discuss the patient load for this week?”
“Fine,” Hayden said, taking pity on me. “But first—” He pulled out his wallet. “Quinton, I believe I owe you two hundred dollars.”
“You do,” Quinton said cheerfully.
One by one, they all pulled out their wallets.
