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“And they’re inside?”

“Yeah. I just saw them.”

“And you’re not happy it’s one of them?” I ask.

He shoves a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, man. They’re in college. Freshmen. Young.”

Ah, yes, they are. They’re eighteen or older, but still young. Beckett and Sutton are twenty-five. There’s a big difference emotionally and maturity-wise between eighteen or nineteen and twenty-five. At least for most people.

“Have you been nice to them?” Sutton asks, obviously remembering our conversation about this in their kitchen.

“I have,” Beckett says. “Very. But I’ve also been careful not to be flirty. And then Andi rescued me the other day when they started asking what I was doing this weekend.”

“Yeah, what did Andi say?” Sutton asks.

“She just said she needed my help with her car and that it was an emergency. She had a whole story about billowing black smoke and horrible squealing noise it was making.” He grins. “She even made the noise. And yes, it was horrible.”

Sutton giggles.

Beckett looks at me. “Any advice?”

“About the girls?”

“Well, your stalker has stayed quietly anonymous,” he says.

Sutton makes a strange noise of her own and covers it with a cough. I give her a look.

Beckett is wound up enough about his issue that he doesn’t seem to notice. “Yours seems to just be happy with the notes and gifts and doesn’t really…want you, I guess,” he says, pacing back and forth a few steps.

Sutton coughs again.

I want to tickle her.

Beckett is running his hand through his hair again. I don’t think he meant to insult me. “I mean, she doesn’t want to get to know you in person. She’s happy with distance.”

Sutton opens her mouth to say something, and I do nudge her now.

Jesus, she can’t blow this now.

“Look, man, you can’t keep people from walking on sidewalks and eating in diners,” I say. “If you’ve been nice and polite but not given them any reason to think you’re interested, that’s all you can do.”

Beckett suddenly stops and meets my gaze. “I need a girlfriend.”

“Uh.”

We all turn to see Andi standing a few feet behind Beckett. She obviously just came from the café.

“Hey!” Sutton says, going to her. “Are you leaving?”

“Yeah. I just…” Andi trails off and looks around. “Was going to my car.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Sutton says, linking her arm with Andi’s.

“No, I’m okay,” Andi tells her. “It’s fine.” She looks at me, then Beckett. “This seems to need some…attention.”

She lets Sutton’s arm go, turns and heads in the opposite direction. I hope her car is actually parked that way.

“Oh, I’m glad you’re still here,” Beckett suddenly tells me.