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“Oh, cool. You guys go to UMS?”

“Yeah, I⁠—”

“Pancakes,” I say. “He’s having the pancakes.”

Drew’s head turns toward me, betrayed. I shrug.

“I guess I’m having the pancakes,” he says, and gives Hannah a little tilt of his head.

“Got it.” She turns to me. “And for you?”

“I’m good with the coffee. Thanks, Hannah.”

“Sure thing.” She writes it down. Glances at me once, bites her lip, then pivots clean and walks back toward the counter.

Drew watches her go with big sad eyes.

“How do you do it?”

I raise an eyebrow.

“That was not fair.”

“What wasn’t?” I feign ignorance.

“You did nothing. I did everything. I gave her a full opening monologue. I established rapport. And she”—he gestures helplessly at the space she left—”she swoons after you. You sit there saying three words, wearing sunglasses indoors like an asshole.”

I take another drink of coffee.

“Maybe she loves sunglasses.”

Drew stares at me.

I keep my face straight, which lasts until he mutters, “Fuck you,” under his breath.

Hannah is pretty fucking hot. She’s got long legs and a pretty face. But…I can’t help but notice what she isn’t. She doesn’t have a smart mouth and dark eyes.

Unfortunate.

“You’ll get there, kid.”

“I have game,” he defends.

“You have…enthusiasm.”

“Don’t be mean, I’m hungover.” He slumps back, wounded, but only for about four seconds, because Drew can’t hold a grudge any longer than he can hold still. Then the grin comes back. “So,” he says. “Last night.”

“What about it.”

“Did you hook up with someone?”

“No, Drew. I did not hook up with anyone last night.”

“Did you make out with the hot one. The little gold one. Did you make Sydney cry?” He looks pissed about this.

“Jeez, no.”

“Must’ve been the girl in the pink dress then. You stared at her so hard last night I thought you were gonna pull a muscle in your eye.”