someone slides into the booth, next to Emil. I glance up and let out a shaky laugh. Nolan is wearing his usual jeans-and-shirt combo. His hair is starting to grow long, and like every time I see him after a while apart, I’m surprised by how much room he takes up— at the table and in my head. “You asshole,” I say without heat. He lifts one eyebrow. “Uncalled-for.” “Finally revealing yourself.” “You knew I was here.” Until ten minutes ago I’d have denied it, but yes. And I liked the idea, though I’m not going to admit it to him or to myself.
