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We’re halfwayinto our meal when I spot a shadow moving down the hall. I still don’t know what happened in that office, but I can guess whatever it is needs a burger break more than a tense grilling… no pun intended.

I nod to Luke with a quick smile and place the food I got him in front of an empty stool.

Luke scans the box and twists a small smile. “Adaline’s?”

“Thought we could all use a dose of heaven after our night of hell.”

Luke stares back at his box, and I wonder if he’s thinking about the last time we had Adaline’s. Not all of our memories are nightmares. Some are the reason I will never give up on this person.

“Callie, here, is a convert already,” I say before this gets awkward.

“How can I not be?” she mumbles through a mouthful of food. I was wrong about my initial impression. She’d fit in perfectly on a tour bus.

“We should take her to 49th & Finch,” Luke says.

The thought excites me for so many reasons.

The main one—it means including Callie in another facet of our lives.

“We totally should. Oh man, they have the best bar food,” I tell her.

I could survive for a month on their jalapeño poppers. Also, I use the term “survive” loosely.

“Bar food?” she asks, eyeing us with her signature skepticism. “So basically you guys just upgraded the same stuff you ate when you first started out as a garage band ten years ago.”

She’s not wrong.

“Basically. Although to be fair, we still eat that stuff, too.”

Her laugh makes it pretty clear she’s not buying that. “And you still look like that, how? Because I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t.”

I lift a shoulder.“I don’t know, good question. Stress?”

She shakes her head in motherly disapproval.“Okay, first of all, if you’re going to hang with me, you’re going to learn to eat a vegetable.”

“What about fruit cups?” Luke quips. There must be some story there when they exchange an amused look.

“Yes, that’s a start,” she replies.

“Fruit cups?” I ask.

“Part of my standard balanced breakfast order at Jemma’s,” Callie says.

“She doesn’t drink coffee either,” Luke announces with the appropriate level of distaste for that sin.

“I noticed that this morning!” I say, mostly to watch her face do what it’s doing now.

“I like tea. So what?” she fires back. Even crosses her arms in an adorable tantrum. “You know what? I’m so sick of your holier-than-thou attitudes. You think I’m the one who baffles the mind? What about the two of you?”

I have no idea where this is going, but I’m so here for it.

“Yeah, what about us?” I ask in a casual tone I know will drive her crazy.

She squares her shoulders like she’s about to mount an epic courtroom cross-examination for the ages. I wish I could bottle this shit. We’d make a fortune.

“Okay, well, first of all. Explain to me why two guys with more money than they probably know what to do with, two guys who have an entire mall’s-worth of clothing options just a personal shopper away, point to the plain, ratty t-shirt and say, ‘Yes. That’s it. That’s what I want.’”

I snort a laugh, and even Luke makes a humored sound I haven’t heard in a long, long time.