Kayla smiles. “Men who aren’t afraid of emotional intimacy.”
Sawyer whistles. “Sounds fictional.”
“Exactly,” she says.
Melissa laughs, glancing atme. “She’s brutal.”
Sawyer shrugs. “I can take it.”
“I doubt that,” Kayla replies.
As the night wears on, the energy at the table shifts.
The initial edge of meeting new people dulls into something easier, more familiar. Kayla and Sawyer are locked in a verbal sparring match that shows no signs of slowing. Dean watches with obvious amusement as Sawyer tries to maintain the upper hand.
Melissa drifts closer to me as the crowd thickens, her knee brushing mine beneath the table. The contact is casual, unconscious, but it sends a sharp awareness through me all the same.
I rest my forearm along the edge of the table, deliberately not touching her, and somehow, that restraint feels louder than contact would.
This is the part I didn’t anticipate. Not wanting more but wanting normal.
Sawyer excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving Dean and Kayla deep in conversation about writing schedules and deadlines.
Melissa leans toward me slightly, lowering her voice as she murmurs, “They’re kind of perfect,” nodding toward Dean and Kayla.
“They’re chaos,” I reply.
She smiles. “Same thing.”
I watch her for a moment longer than necessary. The way she listens. The way she doesn’t need to fill silenceto prove she belongs. There’s a steadiness to her that makes me feel unanchored in the best and worst ways.
Dean catches my eye again. This time, he raises a brow.
I know what he’s asking. I shake my head once, subtly. He doesn’t look convinced.
Sawyer returns a moment later, sliding back into his seat with exaggerated confidence. “Did I miss anything?”
Kayla tilts her head. “We were discussing how you’d never survive as a romantic lead.”
Sawyer scoffs. “Please. Women love confidence.”
“They love depth,” she counters.
“Same thing.”
“It really isn’t.”
Dean laughs. “I’m staying out of this.”
Melissa chuckles, her shoulder brushing mine again as she does. I feel it everywhere.
At some point, Kayla checks her phone, then nudges Melissa gently. “We should probably head out.”
The words hit harder than they should.
Melissa hesitates. Not dramatically, but enough that I notice. She looks at me, searching my face for something I don’t let myself give.
I want to ask her to stay. I want to say,Come home with me, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. But I know what’s right.