He shudders. “Some do. Some, however, do not.”

“Ewwww.”

“Tuna I can get on board with though.” He winks. “There’s just something about the flavor that I—“

I pinch his ear and twist.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow!” I keep twisting. “I wasn’t being dirty! I wasn’t! I really like tuna!”

“He really does, in fact, love tuna,” Ambrose says, waltzing into the room. “Release the ear.”

I imagine he’d say, release the Kraken, the same way, in that same commanding tone, as he sexily walks toward us in nothing but grey sweatpants and a matching hoodie.

What is with gray sweatpants?

I don’t look down.

Kind of hard to miss the outline of his dick. I can’t tell if it’s on purpose or not, but Quinn smirks next to me like I see the game you’re playing.

I shove Quinn away and preen a bit when I notice his ear’s a bit read where I grabbed it.

“Did you add pineapple?” Ambrose asks.

Quinn curses. “What’s wrong with you guys?”

Ambrose ignores him. “I always keep a can of crushed pineapple in the pantry for emergency situations.”

I hold up my hand for a high five. He hits it. “I think we’ll keep you.”

“Aw, and here I thought you were still on the fence.”

Quinn raises his hand. “I’m on the fence. Do I count?”

“No, tuna lover, you do not,” I say.

“Hairy anchovy eater!” He fires back.

“Whoa…” Ambrose holds out his hands like I’m about to strike. “You like anchovies?”

“Finally! Some respect in this room.” Quinn throws up his hands in frustration.

“Yes!” I look between them. “They’re the perfect amount of salt—“

“—they. Have. Hair.” Ambrose.

Quinn just nods in agreement.

“You guys are idiots.” I shake my head. “Are you gonna pineapple me or not?”

“Yeah Ambrose, are you gonna pineapple her, or should I run to the store and—“

“—Stay.” Ambrose barks.

“Thought so.” Quinn laughs.

I take this time to reach for my phone and google if anchovies actually do have hair. Quinn looks over my shoulder in silence.

I want to smack him.

“See?” I show him my phone. “It only looks like hair, but they’re tiny bones that, when cooked, are edible and good for you, so there.” I stick out my tongue.

He stares at my mouth. “You really think my focus is on anchovies right now.”

I shut my mouth so fast I nearly bite my tongue off. He leans in, his eyes darting to my mouth. “Should I fight him for you?”

“Why fight someone who’s already won?” I counter.

He puts a hand to his chest. “Brutal, I think I’m even more turned on.”

“Necessary, and stop hitting on me before I kill our friendship and put anchovies in your locker to seal the deal.”

Quinn’s quiet. He leans in and whispers, “And if I have no self-control and can’t stop?”

“Find some.” I pat him on the back hard.

His cough turns into a laugh. “Small but scrappy.”