"Whatever. You're such a dick," he mutters.

I snicker. He’s so easy to rile up. The way his cheeks flush when he wants to hit me, it’s kind of endearing.

"Maybe if we put our heads together, we’ll get there faster." I shrug.

“Is that supposed to be some sort of innuendo?” He swallows deeply.

“Innuendo? Nathaniel, what ever could you mean–” I try my hardest to bite back my laugh since that’s exactly why I said it.

“Nevermind, forget it.” He shakes his head, popping a grape into his mouth from his nearly empty plate.

“All I know is that if we work as a team, we’ll find her way easier.”

He shoots me a look. "That’s what I’ve been saying.” He groans, sitting back in his chair. “You’re impossible."

"Okay, okay. I’ll lay off." I raise my hands in mock surrender. I’m done teasing…for now. "Let’s check her Insta story again. She probably updated it since this morning."

He pulls out his phone and scrolls.

"Still nothing. It’s early."

I sigh. This plan is kind of half-assed. But weirdly… I’m glad I’m not alone in it. Makes for an interesting adventure.

"For the record," he says quietly, "Sarah and I have been seeing each other too. For the past four years."

I nearly choke. "No shit! You’re fucking with me."

He smirks. "Dead serious. I saw her… two weekends ago. We went to a poetry bar in the city."

"Finleys? That was you?"

"Yup."

I blink. What a little shit. I know I should be upset that she was with another guy but honestly…it doesn’t hurt like it’s supposed to. "I gotta hand it to you. I never knew." Then I pause, frown. "Wait—what about Thanksgiving? She told me she was with a friend."

"We made turkey and watched ‘New Girl’ in our pajamas." He grins.

Okay, that’s… kind of cute. And honestly? I’m impressed. Maybe I underestimated him.

I lean in, curiosity piqued. "Do you guys... you know..."

Nathaniel bites his lip and looks down at the table.

"That's none of your business," he mutters.

"HA!" I laugh, slapping the table. "I got you. She totally friendzoned you."

"Listen, it’s not like we’ve never…you know what, I’m not talking about this with you—"

"Hey, no judgment. I get it. Sarah has some particular tastes in bed. If you're not super open, it can be… a lot."

Nathaniel’s eyes narrow. "What do you mean by that? You know what? No. I’m not encouraging you."

I laugh into my espresso. He folds his arms, scowling, but I can see his knee bouncing under the table. He’s flustered, thinking over if he wants to know more or not. It’s adorable.

Then— "Okay, wait." He leans in, voice low. "What do you mean, particular tastes?"

I study his face. How much info is too much info? I don’t want to scare the guy.

"If you and Sarah were really intimate, you’d know." I search his expression. Nothing. "You guys really didn’t do it much, huh?"