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Instead of getting upset, her face brightens. “I’m queer too.”

That’s it. Three words that settle any discomfort. There’s just something about knowing you’re with other queer people that makes you feel safe to be yourself. Understood.

Nate looks like he’s already in love as he leans over to kiss her cheek. “You’re perfect, kitten.”

Daphne blushes, mumbling about how very un-perfect she is as she grabs her fork and prompts Dez to continue. “Your family?”

“They talk all the time,” I say, diving into my plate. “All the time.”

Dez grins. “I can’t lie. The group chat is insane most days.”

“I prefer it that way,” Nate says through a bite ofspanakopita. “The Barretts are hilarious.”

“They’re unhinged,” I correct. “But we love them.”

Daphne glances around, a small smile tipping that pouty mouth. “Are they nearby?”

“Levi and Sol live a few cities over, but they work in Seaport. My parents aren’t far. What about you?”

She pauses like she didn’t realize we’d ask about her too. “My parents don’t live here.”

Not a lie, but definitely not the full truth, either.

Nate frowns. “Where do they?—”

“I’m starving. Let’s eat before it gets cold.” Daphne sends me this begging, desperate look.

Please. I don’t want to talk about this.

How can I deny her?

“She’s right. Eating takeout cold is for midnight snacks and breakfast. Dig in.”

The grateful smile Daph shoots my way warms me. I feel her hot gaze traveling across my skin even when I’m not looking. This awareness inside me won’t let it be any other way.

Fuck it.

For the moment, I stop fighting. Give up the pretense that I don’t notice everything about this woman and just watch.

There’s something seriously erotic about Daphne eating. Seeing our fork disappear between her lips. Her throat swallowing the food we provided.

Then it happens.

The moment she tastes something she likes, Daph groans. This decadent, indecent sound that makes my dick jerk like I’m about to come right here at the table. It’s so hot it burrows under my skin and etches itself into my bones. A core memory for the ages.

“Do that again.” Nate shifts in his seat. Daphne’s eyes dart to his lap, then away.

“Leave her alone,” I tell him, but she lifts her fork and stares me down as she takes another bite, groaning the whole way.

Jesus fucking wept.

I have to clear my throat twice before I can speak. “Good?”

“Yeah,” Daphne breathes. Her pupils are expanding, scent getting thicker the longer we’re caught in whatever the fuck this is. I’m about to lean over and lick the sauce from the corner of her mouth like a heathen when my phone vibrates in my back pocket.

It steals some of the heat in her eyes, and I’ve never wanted to throw the thing more, even if I’m grateful for the interruption. These pieces of time with Daphne are a lie, telling me I can have something that definitely isn’t mine.

She carefully sets down the fork, reaching for her water instead.