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“Wren invited me,” I reply, unable to look away from him. All of the boredom and emptiness from the last few days just snaps into pieces, and there’s no doubt in my mind that I’m just as attracted to him as he is to me. No matter how crazy that is. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to see me anymore.” Behind him, I see Cass ease himself out of the booth, only for Wren and the blonde girl to bring his glass and utensils over to their side before making room for him on their bench.

“Why?” Jed’s brows knit together in confusion. “Why would I evernot?”

“Because I left.” The answer seems obvious to me, and I don’t step away when he touches my arm once more. “Because I didn’t stay.”

“Saylor…you needed to go home.” He smiles wryly, in spite of himself. “Of course you were going to leave.”

He makes it sound so…obvious. Like I hadn’t been running away from him at all, and instead had made a move we’d both agreed on in advance. I can’t help the stupid grin that crosses my face when I think about it that way, and some part of me unfurls, letting the rest of me relax.

“You could sit down. Both of you,” Wren remarks, gesturing theatrically to the booth as if neither of us know it’s there. “Then you could order a drink, we could all order food, and you know. This could be something other than the world’s saddest pity party.”

Jed’s eyes flick back to his friends, and I see him register Cass on the other side of the table with a slight narrowing of his gaze before he steps away from me and reaches out a hand to me. “Inside or outside?” he asks, though from his movements, I have to wonder if he’d prefer the outside.

Which, in all honesty, is fine with me. I sit down and scoot to the far inside of the booth, my elbow against the wall. I didn’t need to go so far, though. Not when there’s room for two more of us on the bench. Gingerly, Jed sits down as well, giving me glances every few seconds as if he can’t believe I’m here.

“Saylor showed up at my work today,” Wren hums absently, taking a drink from his glass. “Shestalkedme. Her words, not mine. She stood on the other side of my office and stared at Cass like she was going to shank him. It was something.”

“I didn’t mean to,” I sigh, burying my face in my hands as I lean my elbows on the table. “And it wasn’t that bad. Right?”

“Oh, it was something,” Wren assures me wickedly, leaning back and pressing his shoulder against the blonde girl’s.

When she sees me look her way, she grins. “I’m Hazel. He’s kind of an ass. Do you want me to punch him for you?” she asks sweetly, her eyes dancing.

“I do,” Jed mutters. “Hit him hard. He’s enjoying this way too much.” I glance up at him when his leg brushes mine, but when I don’t flinch, he does it again. Only this time, he doesn’t pull it away.

“Please, not at the table,” Cass sighs. “I know this is your romanticLady and the Trampmoment and all, but not at the damn table. Not even for Jed will I put up with you guys playing footsie while I’m right here.”

“He only says that because he can’t get a girlfriend,” Wren informs me sweetly.

“I’m Saylor,” I tell the girl, realizing belatedly that I hadn’t told her my name. I don’t want her, or any of them, to think I’m being rude. “Though, I’m sure you probably knew that already.”

“I’ve been hearing about you for a few days,” she agrees. “But that’s not a bad thing.”

“Well, she was pretty concerned when I told her I rolled up on Jed holding back your hair as you puked all over his slaughter shed.” It really feels like Wren just can’t help himself. I see now why Jed wanted her to hit him.

“Please stop,” Jed deadpans, leaning back. “Please. If I can’t be weird, neither can you. Besides, they don’t knowyouhere like they know me.”

That’s strange, and not what I’d expected when the woman had called this Wren’s party.

“How do they know you here?” I ask, curiosity winning out over my too-fast heart and clammy palms. “Do you come here a lot?”

“I worked here,” Jed tells me, a small smile on his lips. “The chef here is Sophie Piccola. She currently holds six Michelin stars. Anyway, I worked here under her, before she decided to open another location on the other side of town.”

“So you work there as a chef now?” I assume, when he doesn’t go on.

“Asthehead chef,” Wren corrects. “And before he tries to downplay it, Jed holds two Michelin stars himself. We come here because his mentor loves him, and he’s a food snob. Her food is the only thing he really enjoys and doesn’t just put up with.”

There’s probably some irony to the ex-cannibal being an amazing chef, but all I can do is stare at him in awe. No wonder his food had been amazing and my Lunchables had offended him so much.

“I can’t cook,” I blurt out finally, feeling suddenly subpar to him in this area. “At all. Like, I burn water.”

“You’ve told me.” A small smile sneaks onto his lips, warming his expression. “And I kind of got that when you told me you exist off of Lunchables.”

“It doesn’t bother you that I have zero appreciation for the culinary arts?”

“You seemed to appreciate it well enough when I cooked for you.” He leans close to me, like he’s drawn to me by a magnet, until his lips brush mine. “And besides?—”

“Not at thetable,” Cass grumps, cutting him off. “And your mentor is coming.” I can feel him kick Jed under the table, who straightens with slightly wide eyes as he looks up into the face of a tiny, older woman.