“Is that when he started Pulse—while he was in college? Or did he know his bandmates before that?”

“He grew up with one of them. The other two he met at Boise State. That’s when they started playing in earnest.” She didn’t mention it, but she also sang. That was how she’d first met Axel—at a Battle of the Bands event in Boise. She’d been a backup singer for a competing band, a band she’d thought was good. But when she’d watched Pulse perform, she’d known they were better. And the panel of judges had agreed. Pulse had won the contest.

Tobias managed to bring some rice to his mouth using his chopsticks, which was impressive, given that rice was one of the hardest foods to eat that way.

“Nice job,” she said.

He grinned. “Thanks. Now that I’ve learned how, I’m going to eat everything with chopsticks, even soup. Why wash silverware?”

She rolled her eyes. “Bachelors…”

He showed off by taking another bite with his chopsticks. But when he used them to flip one of the shrimp into the air and catch it in his mouth, she grew suspicious. “Wait a second…you can’t be that good already.”

“Okay, so maybe I’ve done this before,” he said with a wink.

“Why did you pretend you hadn’t?”

He spread his arms in an apparent attempt to make himself look more innocent. “I didn’t want to put any pressure on you, in case you didn’t know how.”

“I’m better with chopsticks than you are!” she said.

He arched his eyebrows. “Prove it.”

“Fine.” She used hers to flip a shrimp in the air but it fell onto the table since she couldn’t quite catch it with her mouth. “Dang!”

“You’ve almost got it,” he said. “Here, I’ll toss you one so all you have to do is concentrate on catching it. That might be where you’re weak.”

When she missed for the second time, he tsked as he shook his head. “Not as good as me, I’m afraid.”

She pretended outrage. “Try it one more time.” She opened her mouth, but instead of tossing the shrimp, he stuck it right inside. “There you go. But I’ll expect to see some improvement the next time we have dinner together.”

“Who said there’ll be a next time?” she asked.

He didn’t seem worried. He just flipped another shrimp into his mouth. “There will be a next time. No one else has my skill with chopsticks.” He leaned forward, chewing as though it tasted much better eating it the way he was. “And I’m the only friend you’ve got here. Right?”

She glowered at him. “I could make other friends. Easily. I’m a likable person.”

“You’re on the rebound. It’ll be much safer if you hang out with me.”