I poke my head into Jane’s room, hoping for some sign of whatever he and Charles got into during those predawn hours. But the space is as perfectly put-together as ever, the charcoal bedding and goldenrod throw at the foot of his bed with corners so tight, Jane barely makes an indentation where he sits putting on his shoes.

“So.” I settle beside him, almost bouncing on the taut bedding as I arrange my skirt. “How did that happen?”

“He came back! Not long after you left, he and his friend came in for a drink.” He purses his lips in delight. “He looked for me. Spotted me at family meal and asked if I was free to join them.” His voice is dreamy, like he still can’t believe it.

“His friend excused himself, and after we finished our drinks, Charles came to the after-hours gig. I sang, then he had a car bring us down to the Slope and we caught another drink and a bite at the Black Horse, then, ah—” He averts his eyes. “Then we came here.”

Before I can voice my appreciation for my earplugs, he nudges me, grinning.

“By the way, his friend? Will, I think. Charles calls him by his last name, like how people do with you. Darcy? Gorgeous. I didn’t notice at first, because of Charles, but damn.”

“Agreed on the gorgeous. Too bad he’s a dillhole.”

Jane smacks my shoulder. “He seemed nice!”

I share the overheard commentary. At this point, it’s kind of funny: “thoroughly tolerable”? Who talks like that? But Jane can tell it rubbed me the wrong way and sticks out his lower lip with an appropriate degree of sympathy.

“That is harsh,” he says. “Charles mentioned that he takes a while to warm up. Darcy doesn’t like crowds, and Charles sprung the show on him last-minute and got there late. Maybe he was in a bad mood?”

I shrug. Darcy said that “tolerable” line with confidence; he’d made up his mind. Still, I’m willing to entertain the possibility of redemption, if for no other reason than it would be a waste of such a gorgeous face for his personality to be so lacking. “You gonna see Charles again?”

Jane bites his lower lip.

“Wow. You are in some deep smit, friend.”

“He’s really nice. And really cute, but he’s only around for a few weeks. They’re in from the West Coast for some business stuff. I dunno; I checked out during that part. I was watching his lips move.”

“They are very nice lips.”

“They are amazing lips.”

“Oh?”

“More like O-face.”

“Oh. My. God,” I marvel. “He has you making sex puns. This boy toy has potential.”

“Do you think?” His voice is bright.

I smile and stand, reaching out to haul Jane from the bed. “You are hopeless.”