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“And then only because we ran into the two of you by accident,” Sam added.

“This isn’t like that,” I said. “And Max is nothing like Grant.” When three pairs of eyes locked on me, I rolled my eyes. “He listens, okay?”

Maya gave me a faint smile. “Then we’d like to see him listen.”

I groaned.

“Dinner,” Sam added. “Neutral territory. You’re allowed to have a life that intersects with ours.”

I stared at my mug. “He doesn’t even know you exist.” Except that wasn’t true. I’d mentioned I had housemates. When Jess gasped theatrically, I said quickly, “But he will.”

“When?” Maya asked.

I hesitated. That was apparently the wrong move.

“Quinn,” Sam said in a gentle voice, “if he’s going to matter, he meets us.”

“He might not matter,” I said automatically.

Silence.

Jess tilted her head. “But he already does, doesn’t he?”

I looked down at the steam rising from my coffee. “He’s… important.”

“Then you bring him home for dinner.”

“I can’t. We don’t have an oven big enough to cook him in and Maya is a vegetarian.”

Maya fixed me with a hard stare. “Next week. Low-key. I’ll cook.”

I blew out a breath. “He works a lot,” I protested. “He writes musical arrangements, and he sings with an a cappella group.”

“We work a lot too,” Jess replied.

They’re not going to let this go.

I folded my arms. “Fine. But no one gets to ask him anything weird.”

Sam looked offended. “Define weird.”

“No kink questions.”

Jess raised a hand. “Can I ask about music?”

“Yes.”

She grinned. “I have to say, I’m dying to see the guy who makes you want to clean tiles with a toothbrush.”

I rolled my eyes. “He doesn’t make me do anything.”

Sam arched a brow. “Sure he doesn’t.”

I stood. “I’ll ask him. That’s all I’m saying. I make no promises.”

That shut them up. Finally.

Ten minutes later I was at the front door, ready to go.