I sipped my tea, feeling the warmth of it in my toes. The tearoom was always so overstuffed and tacky during the day, but at night, it felt cozy. There were tiny lamps in the middle of all of the tables, and we were the only people in the place. Everything smelled pleasantly spicy—well, everything except me and David—and the atmosphere was almost . . .

No, I wasn’t going to say romantic. There was nothing romantic about Miss Annemarie’s Tearoom. Or David Stark for that matter.

“What?” David asked. He was frowning slightly, the dim light making shadows underneath his cheekbones. There was the lightest smattering of freckles along the bridge of his nose, and I wondered why I’d never noticed those before.

I looked at him, eyebrows raised. “You shook your head,” he said. “What were you saying no to?”

“Oh.” I took another sip of tea so that I wouldn’t have to answer right away. “I was thinking how crazy this night has been.”

Leaning back, David stretched his arms over his head. “Yeah, I was planning on eating crab bisque tonight, not being doused in it.”

“Oh, please. That jacket cost you what? Two bucks at Goodwill? I will never get the smell out of this sweater.”

David reached down and gripped the lapels of his jacket, straightening it. “Hey, I like this jacket.”

“That makes one of us,” I replied, tucking my hair behind my ears.

David and I had been snarking at each other since we learned how to talk, but tonight, our barbs seemed less pointed. I wouldn’t go so far as to call them affectionate or anything, but there was a definite lack of sting.

“We need to tell Saylor about tonight,” I told David.

He was turning his teacup around in his hands, steam drifting up to fog his glasses. “I will, when I get home.”

Silence stretched between us. Not awkward, really, but heavy somehow. Laden with something I couldn’t name. “I’m sure he doesn’t like her,” David said.

“What?”

“Ryan,” he clarified before draining his cup. “You said you think he likes Mary Beth. I bet you’re wrong.”

“Oh, right. That.” Now that the moment had passed, I felt my cheeks flame at the memory of how I’d vomited up all of my feelings out there on the sidewalk. I should’ve just told him Blythe freaked me out. There was no need to drag my personal life into all of this.

“Don’t get me wrong, Mary Beth is . . . well, she’s not objectionable or anything, but she’s not . . .”

My hands were tight around the teacup, the heat radiating on my palms. “She’s not what?”

David tugged at his lapels again before leaning back in his chair. “You.”

The lamplight shone on David’s glasses, but behind them, his eyes were very blue and intent, and then I suddenly couldn’t meet them anymore.