Derek leaned back on his chair again. “I will wish you luck, Willow. Because you, my friend, are fucked in the head.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“I mean it, the odds on you getting with this chick are so bad, Vegas wouldn’t take you on.”

Willow was going to protest then remembered the look on Eden’s face as she told him about Francis. “Funny thing is you don’t know the half of it. There’s another guy on the scene.”

Derek’s chair slammed back to earth. “Who?”

“The DJ we saw at the gig. Francis Buchanan.”

Derek squinted. “The good-looking one? With all the hot girls around him?”

“You don’t need to gas him up, but yeah.”

Derek tilted backward again with a sigh. “I’m gonna feel so bad when I get your Lambo. I’m gonna drive it everywhere and give you constant shit, but I’ll feel bad.”

“Don’t worry, Hardo. I’ve still got a good feeling.”

Psycho leaned forward. “How are you gonna play this fake relationship thing with Eden?”

“I’m gonna play it cool.”

He and Derek looked at each other.

“He’s gone for,” Derek said conversationally.

“Seems that way.”

Willow threw up his hands. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a dork,” Derek explained. “Total fuckin’ normie.”

Willow sat back in his chair. It was one thing for Eden to think that—she was a cool as shit DJ—but Derek ‘I love books about dragons’ Hardiman? He could get fucked. “I’m not a dork! I just got kicked out of Ice for dancing on the bar.”

Psycho grinned. “Yeah, but that’s a dorky thing to do. You have too many Great Northerns and you and all your old man friends get kicked out of the pub.”

“Fuck off!”

“Kid’s got a point. You already wear an apron and compost everything. The minute you settle down, it’ll be socks with sandals and falling asleep in front of the cricket.”

Willow flicked a piece of salmon at Derek. “I’m the one who can stay up until four and still get to training, remember?”

“Yeah and soon you’ll be up all night bottle feeding and watering houseplants.”

“So, you admit me and Eden are gonna have kids?”

“I admit you’re gonna be a dad. Fuck knows where the DJ who’s not talking to you fits in.”

Willow’s phone buzzed and he glanced down.

Hi, so I’ve been up all night and I’m turned on and I want to tell you one of my fantasies.

Willow burst out laughing. “Yes!”

“What?” Derek demanded.

Willow ignored him and snatched up his phone.

I’m all ears, pretty girl.

‘Typing,’ the screen said, ‘Typing.’ His phone whirred against his palm.

God you’re charming. Is it weird to say I miss you? Because I miss you. Sorry, that’s stupid.