“You look nice,” he said, so softly.

I’d taken Jonas’s advice and wore a pair of black jeans, a white T-shirt with a single pocket, and a long-sleeved, stonewashed, dark brown shirt. “You too. I like the shirt.”

“Thank you.” He ran an open palm over his stomach.

“So,” I said, just as he brushed his hand on mine as we walked alongside each other. “What’s the plan?”

“How hungry are you?”

“I’m permanently hungry.”

“The movie I’m taking you to watch only has one showing, twenty minutes from now,” he said. “Unfortunately, the restaurant I made reservations at only had one table left, for eight thirty.”

“So, we can only do one?”

“Not necessarily,” he said, but his phone started ringing as he spoke.

“I’m intrigued.”

“We can still do both. We just need to adjust.” He removed his phone from his front pocket and swiftly dismissed the call. “We can either go to the theater and grab a bite afterward, somewhere else—”

“Or?”

“Or we can go eat now and watch the movie online later.”

“Interesting. How long is the movie going to be showing in that theater?”

“They usually run for about a week.”

“And how hard is it to get a table at that restaurant?”

“Almost impossible. I only got it because I kind of know the owners.”

“So, in theory you could get another table on a different night?”

“I guess,” he said. “Although they’re usually booked solid.”

“Well, we should be practical, then.”

“How so?”

“Which option involves a duvet?” I asked.

“Probably the restaurant,” he said, grinning.

“Restaurant it is, then. How far away is it?”

“It’s a twenty-minute walk from here. Five-minute Uber ride.”

I checked the time on my phone. Half past seven.

“Let’s walk,” I said.

*

“Were you serious about joining the team?”

“Sorry.” I shook my head. “I only said that to piss off Jonas.”

“Too bad. I was kind of liking the idea of us swimming together.”

“We can swim together. Just not compete.”

“If it’s about Dean—”

“Ethan—”

“I just feel like I should explain him a bit.”

“Why? I know he’s your best friend, but I really think you’re way more bothered than I am about this whole psycho thing.”

“He shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have brought it up actually.”

“No! Look.” He held me by the arm to make me stop and turn to him.

“What?” I wasn’t annoyed. Not really. I just didn’t understand why he couldn’t let it go.

“You’re right; he is my best friend, and trust me, I know he can really suck at making a good first impression. But I don’t want you to think that that’s who he is—”

“Why though?”

“I don’t want you to think that I—that the fact that we’re friends means—”