I obviously walked into the middle of something, and I’m not sure how to extricate myself from it, until a chuckle makes me shiver again, for a very different reason.

My eyes immediately fly to the man strolling up to the counter, ignoring the three people in the queue behind the self-proclaimed pie owner.

“Darius,” the pie asshole greets him.

Of course they know each other. I assume everyone knows Keller, anyway.

“Markus,” he replies, his eyes remaining fixed on me. “You’ve officially met Claire?”

“Claire, huh?” He shrugs. “I prefer Barbie.”

I glare at him, although frankly, a minute ago, I wouldn’t have dared. But Darius’s presence shifts the dynamic a little. It’s not me against a dangerous-looking stranger with cold golden eyes anymore. I get the feeling Markus won’t strangle me for the offense of looking at him the wrong way with Keller here. Or having pie.

“This is Markus,” Keller tells me. “And this is his future wife, Daisy.”

The waitress snorts. “He wishes.”

Markus lifts his chin. “Yes, he does.”

Grinning, Daisy plates a slice of pie for me. “Did you want a drink?”

“Wait, you’re seriously giving her pie, Dez?” Keller marvels.

“Yes. Maybe Markus will learn a valuable lesson: I can give whatever I want to whomever I want.”

The look they exchange makes me want to run and hide. “I don’t need a drink.” It’s a lie; I’d die for a coffee. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, nothing. Pie’s not on the menu. It’s mine,” she repeats, staring at her…something?

Someone, get me out of here.

“How about you, Keller?”

“If you give him some of my pie, I will leave your ass so red you won’t be able to sit for a fucking week,” Markus states.

Keller laughs. “Black coffee, please. And a caramel macchiato for Claire. Try not to terrify her so much she considers surviving without her midday caffeine fix next time, you psychos.”

I was about to leave with my slice of pie, but his response has me staring at him, positively red.

I knew he looked into me. He made that very apparent Saturday night. But he even worked out my coffee order, as well as my habit of ordering coffee around twelve? That’s…crazy. He’s crazy.

About you.

I tell the voice that added that to shut up. He’s crazy, full stop. I’m just the target he chose for the weekend. It’s likely going to be someone else next week. He didn’t even try to touch me this morning. He’s done. Right?

I return to Lily’s table, where her friends are all staring at me.

No one’s so much as said a word when Keller saunters his way to me, wordlessly sitting at one end of the table.