The gathered group looked past me at a still-smiling Jake, holding up his bottle of wine like he was offering his firstborn to the ritualistic town council. Tristan started a slow clap, which was picked up by the rest of the group. He stood and looked at Jake with reverence in his eyes before they crinkled, and a fit of laughter took his silly ass over. I rolled my eyes as the rest of the group started to join in on the laughter.

“Sorry,” Tristan said, sitting back down and rubbing his eyes. “I enjoy the dramatics.”

“Clearly,” I said, unable to tamp down my smile. “Everyone, this is Jake. We work together, and I bumped into him at the grocery store. He’s a big reader, so I offered him a spot in the club.” I peeked my head around the corner from inside the kitchen. “That’s fine right?”

“Yeah, he’s very fine,” Tristan said, licking his lips. I rolled my eyes again and went back into the kitchen, laughing to myself as Jake continued on with introductions while I poured everyone some wine.

“Hey, Jake, can you help me carry these out?” I asked.

“Sure thing.” He entered the kitchen and thankfully looked like he was still in one piece. It was touch and go there for a moment with how ravenous Tristan’s gaze had been. I’d half expected Jake to turn the corner wearing a tattered shirt and ripped-up khakis, hickies all up and down his chest.

“Your friends are funny,” Jake said, delicately grabbing three glasses in his big hands.

“And ridiculous. Don’t take anything they say seriously.”

His eyes glittered under my kitchen lights, as if he’d gotten fistfuls of blue stardust and used that as contacts. It was almost surreal. I wanted to paint him—and I wasn’t even an artist. The furthest I’d likely get was a blocky stick figure with sapphire eyes, and still, I wanted to grab the nearest stack of papers and pens and go to town.

“Thanks for inviting me,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the kitchen counter. “It’s nice seeing you outside of work.”

I cocked my head. A small ember nestled into the base of my spine, warming me from the inside out. Something about the way he said “nice seeing you” fanned the ember and made the flames lick down my back. I tried stamping it out, ignoring the way my briefs started to tighten.

“Yeah, of course,” I said, turning my back to him in a futile attempt to break whatever spell this man was beginning to cast on me.