“Why be honest now?” Blythe quirked an eyebrow. “Do I really need to answer that?” Leaning across the table, she gave her daughter’s hand a squeeze. “Let all the poisons that lurk in the mud hatch out.”

“I, Claudius.” Rose snorted a mirthless chuckle. “You always did read too much history, Mom.”

“One can never read too much history, or learn enough from it.”

“Uh, yes, Mrs. Foley.” Rose always enjoyed poking fun at her mom for being such a great teacher.

“Little bugger.”

Just as Rose was about to ask what happened between her mom and Hank, Bellamy breezed in, asking if he could have another glass of what Rose was drinking.

“Knock yourself out, bud.” Rose pointed him to the self-service soda dispenser. When he shrugged, she rolled her eyes and leaped up impatiently, grabbing the empty glass. This beautiful dummy was like some lost time traveler inflicted on the twenty-first century—on Rose in particular. “Enjoy the band, did you?” she asked sarcastically as she made her way over to the dispenser, Bellamy in tow.

“They were passable,” he replied, caressing an ice cube in his palm as though it was the neatest invention since flip flops. “But they could use some finesse.”

“Let me guess, you were a composer in a past life.”

“I played the piccolo,” he replied matter-of-factly, not picking up on her sarcasm.

“Blew hard, too, I’m betting.” When he missed it a second time, she rolled her eyes. “Sorry. I mean, I bet you were good,” she lied and then handed him the soda.

His hand brushed against her fingers and time seem to slow around them, the background dulling, just for a brief moment. It was an odd sensation as if her ears had suddenly become full of water. But the shine in Bellamy’s eyes told her he felt it, too. His gaze now drifted to her mouth and grazed over her parted lips. The invitation there, he began to lean in towards her, her ears ringing with heat and heart pounding against the inside wall of her chest as if it would reach out and grab Bellamy by the shirt collar to draw him closer. Faster.

But before she could wrap her mind around the flicker of a moment, her mother came up from behind. “Why don’t we head back to the apartment? I’m sure poor Bellamy here’s had enough of our boring outing.”

He regained his stance but never removed his eyes from Rose’s lips. “On the contrary, I’ve quite enjo-“

“Fine, humor me then. I’m old and tired. Bring me home.” With a sudden impatience, Blythe grabbed his shoulder and led him back to the table.