Ryan continues to study me with his unrelenting gaze. “It’s not necessarily what I want to hear,” he admits, “but I’d prefer that to polite lies. You never used to have a problem being honest with me.”

“How we acted in the past isn’t relevant to who we are now. You don’t know anything about me anymore.”

“Sure, I do,” he says easily, too easily for my liking.

“Really, like what?”

“Well, for one thing, you still can’t hide your emotions to save your life. Like right now, you probably think you’re playing it cool but I’m definitely noticing an aggressive rage vein that’s pulsing in the center of your neck.”

I run my fingers across the front of my throat, then wish I hadn’t. How can an open-roof deck suddenly feel suffocating? “You wish you were affecting me that much.”

“I think it’s pretty obvious I am. You seem five seconds away from hopping the guardrail and rappelling down the building.”

“Trust me, after another five seconds with you, I won’t need to rappel. I’ll straight-up jump.”

Ryan seems like he’s about to grin, but stops himself. I gaze off to the side, spying a waitress making the rounds in the distance. My laser-focused eyes try to distinguish which appetizer she has on her tray, and I can tell from their shape that they’re the mini empanadas. I try to will her closer via telekinesis but it doesn’t work. A shame. I level a look back at Ryan with resigned defeat.

“Something else that hasn’t changed about you,” he goes on, “you’re still melodramatic.”

“Why are you so difficult? Why can’t we just have a normal verbal exchange like other former acquaintances would have?” I feel someone’s shoulder bump into my back and turn to see a group of Jason’s work friends. I take a small step forward to give them more space.

“Hey, I’m perfectly composed,” Ryan says. “You’re the one who can’t control your raging hate fire.”

I squeeze my little black clutch with both hands as I glare into his irritatingly green eyes. “You always did bring out the worst in me.”

“Aw, that’s sweet of you to say. Have you been holding on to that little nugget for the past ten years or was it a spur-of-the-moment thought?”

“Sorry if the truth hurts.”

“Yes, it does. Another lesson you taught me the last time we spoke.”

I say nothing as I wait for Ryan to smirk or flash a sarcastic grin. Neither arrives and I’m a little rattled by their absence. Jason’s colleague accidentally bumps into me again, making me move forward to keep my balance. I’m about to shift to the side to position myself more comfortably when Ryan’s fingers suddenly brush my wrist.