“He’s not, really. Not to me.” I can feel the smile wanting to spread across my face, so I let it. “He’s so easy to talk to. And he’s kind. He’s Marshall kind, but not as outgoing. He’s more reserved. He works a lot, and I have Emmy all the time, so it’s been hard to make time for anything together. Plus, he just found out he has a little brother this week, so his life is kind of chaotic right now. Texts and phone calls are our primary source of communication, so that sucks.”

“Is that why you keep checking your phone?”

I can feel my cheeks warm when she says that. I hate that she’s noticed. I’ve tried my best to be inconspicuous with this. I don’t want anyone to know how often Atlas and I text, or how often I think about texting him, or how often I think about him.

Maybe I’m scared to talk about it with Allysa because I don’t want to allow myself to be happy about Atlas until I know Ryle isn’t going to be furious over Atlas.

I receive a text right in the middle of that thought, and it takes everything in me to fight my smile when I look at my phone and read it.

“Is that him?” Allysa asks.

I nod.

“What’s he saying?”

“He asked me if I want him to bring me lunch.”

“Yes,” Allysa says emphatically. “Tell him you’re starving, and so is your friend.”

I laugh and then reply to Atlas with, Could you bring lunch for two today? My coworker gets jealous when you bring me food.

He immediately replies with, Be there in an hour.

When Atlas finally shows up, both Allysa and I are busy with customers. He’s carrying a brown paper bag. I motion for him to wait by the counter, so he stands patiently while we finish up. Allysa is finished first, and for at least five minutes, she and Atlas are having a conversation I can’t hear from this side of the shop. I’m trying to give my attention to the customer in front of me, but knowing Allysa is speaking freely to Atlas has me more than nervous. I never know what’s going to come out of her mouth.

Atlas looks pleased, though. Whatever she’s telling him, he’s enjoying it.

It feels like a decade later when I’m finally free to join them. Atlas leans in and greets me with a kiss on the cheek when I reach him. His fingers graze my elbow for several seconds after our greeting before he pulls his hand away. That simple physical gesture sends a current through me, making it hard to focus without being too obvious that I get giddy around him.

Allysa smiles at me knowingly. “Adam Brody, huh?”

I have no idea what she’s referring to until I look at Atlas and he’s grinning. I had a poster of Adam Brody on my bedroom wall the first time Atlas came to my house.