"Uh, so is it like... awkward for me to stay for dinner now?"

Jace and I had eventually gone back to working on our project, a slow slog of brainstorming and writing and attempts to ignore the stifling awkwardness because we'd been making out right there not that long ago, and I still kind of hated him.

Thankfully, Knight was an excellent diffuser of tension. Not because he was good at changing the topic or making light conversation, but because he kept commenting on how awkward we were being until it was more awkward to be awkward.

Which is why, when Jace asked to stay for dinner, Knight replied. "Oh, definitely, super awkward. You should for sure do it."

I glared at him as he picked over the remaining remnants of Jace's platter. I remember you said that all food tastes better when it's on a platter.

"Why aren't you back in the closet again?" I asked.

Knight grinned. "Our Jacey would miss me, and also—" he shot a look at the pair of us, and made a vague gesture with his hand "—this whole thing would be super awkward if I left."

I didn't deign him with a response, because, like, yeah. It would be. How are you even supposed to react around your enemy-slash-hook up? Who was being weirdly nice to you? If Knight wasn't here—eating all our food and annoying me with his commentary—I probably would've thrown myself from the window.

Jace and Knight shared a solemn fist bump.

"I would miss you so much, bro," said Jace with seriousness, and I couldn't even tell if he was joking.

Knight grinned and made a mock kissy face at Jace.

I groaned.

"Don't be jealous of our love," Knight admonished. Jace blew him a kiss.

I couldn't help but reveal a faint smile, smothered before it could truly bloom, like the sun peeking from behind the clouds on an overcast day before being swallowed by the puffs of grey. Jace definitely caught sight of it, though, because his answering appreciative grin was not one of an overcast day, but a bright and gentle spring morning. It was surprisingly soft. Making eyes with Knight had clearly left him sappy and romantic. I'm sure they would look dashing together.

Though, eh, Knight could probably do better. He could probably step up a tier to scrape, like, a small-town heroin addict, or a low-level demon spawn.

"So, anyway. Dinner?" said Jace, returning to the topic at hand. He wrung his hands as he said it, nervous, the question hanging in the hair like a bated breath.

I shrugged; easy, nonchalant. Inwardly, my chest was a fiery ball of hellish screams. I'd made out with Hartley. Would inviting him for dinner send the wrong message? Did he think I could tolerate him now? Or, oh god, even worse... did he think I liked him now? He could hold that over my head forever. It would be completely mortifying if he thought I liked him. I would rather die. But, if I didn't invite him over for dinner, did that suggest that I couldn't handle it? That the awkwardness had gotten to me? Or, god forbid, did not inviting him suggest I was so nervous in his presence because I liked him?

Choosing between designer handbags was far easier than this. This decision made me want to rip out my hair. Sadly, I didn't have time to make a pros and cons list. "Uh, sure. Stay for dinner. You can help me smuggle leftovers for Knight."

Knight seemed delighted by this. "Oh, please bring the good food. Lena always brings me the vegetables."

"Yeah, because that's always what's left over, because they're gross."

Jace seemed amused by this. "They're also, like, good for your body and stuff."

Both Knight and I scoffed. Knight threw a cucumber stick at him with a loud sound of disapproval.

"Get outta here with all your athlete talk!" I proclaimed. "It's gross."

Jace lounged back in his seat, revealing a small strip of taut stomach playing peek-a-boo with his t-shirt. I immediately revised all of my thoughts on athletes. I might not like him, but I decided I would not protest his vegetable consumption. They appeared to be having a positive influence on his abdominal region, which momentarily made me think of earlier today, and there was a slight twinge of regret that Knight had walked in before I had the chance to touch. If that's what health foods do for a body, maybe I should consider eating a vegetable occasionally?

"Okay, I'll stop. Um, non-athlete talk. Uh, chips and chocolate. Getting out of bed at 9AM. Netflix and chill."

Knight and I shared an amused look.

"Uh, Hartley," said Knight tentatively. "Do you, uh, know what Netflix and chill is?"

Jace shrugged. "Yeah, sure, watching Netflix and chilling. We should do it sometime." I snorted a laugh, and Knight was giggling. Hartley looked bewildered, his eyebrows furrowing together in an innocent confusion that was almost cute. He seemed wary. "Uh, is that... not it?"

"This is what happens when you spend all your time with Daria," I said in a singsong voice.

"I am very happy to Netflix and chill with you, baby," said Knight, in a faux-sultry voice.

That sent me off into another peel of laughter. Jace watched calmly and Knight and I giggled, only briefly pausing our laughter as we composed ourselves before glancing at Jace's expression and breaking off into another fit.

Jace was often quick with a filthy joke when he was hanging out with the group, which often made it easy to forget how innocent and wholesome he was beneath the surface. Because, yeah, it was easy to make the obvious—though often rather witty, because Jace really could be funny, and was good with words—dirty joke. But Jace completely lacked the dirty mind. He hadn't been adequately corrupted. It was perhaps a product of spending majority of his time with innocent minded women, rather than guys like my asshole ex, Reece Moore. I mean, he had two mothers, and his best friend was Daria, who'd dubbed a table 'Woody Boy' without noticing the implication.

"Netflix and chill," I explained, when Knight and I finally recovered. "Is, uh, when you invite someone over for sex."

"While watching Netflix, but like, the Netflix is a cover story so you don't look like an asshole, but it's still made very clear to both parties that banging is really what's on the table," Knight helpfully supplied.

"Ah," said Jace. "Well, good to know."

Knight gave him a heavy-lidded look.

"Oh, stop it with that," said Jace.

Jace's cheeks were stained with a faint flush. It was unbearably adorable, really. Unlike Jace, I'd grown up with brothers and older cousins and Liv, who were decidedly lacking any sort of innocence filter. My mind was filthy, really, with everything from bangers and mash to a lawn blower holding infinite possibilities for innuendo. Knight, I knew, was cut from the same cloth as me.

It was occasionally refreshing, though, to hang out with Jace and Daria, who could both be funny and witty without resorting to dick jokes.

Unfortunately, talking about peen was half my sense of humour. Boobies were the other half.

I was remarkably mature in that regard.

After another hour of joking and ignoring our project, Austin banged on my door with the resounding call of "DINNER!" with volume that suggested Atlanta separated us, and not simply a door.

I hopped to my feet, offering Jace my hand to pull him up from his. It was a reflex—an offer made without thought or consideration—and Jace stared up at me with an appraising curiosity. He eyed my hand with wary trepidation, as if I were holding an apple, and he couldn't tell if I'd poisoned it or not.

But he still grabbed my hand and allowed me to pull him up. Well, half up, before I ripped my hand out of his so he fell back on his butt.

Okay, I'll admit it; I totally chickened. I was afraid of the strange niceties between us, coupled with a make out and what it might mean if we stuck to this path of almost-friendship. Bruising Hartley's ass—in a non-sexual way—by dropping him on it would help rejig our relationship to what it once was.

It worked. Hartley's eyes narrowed, the universal symbol for you're on and grabbed my wrist and pulled. There was a momentary feeling of weightlessness, as I stumbled, but Hartley was a pretty strong dude, and it wasn't long until I'd collapsed on the ground with a pained grunt. His laugh was deep and I felt it go through me with a slight rumble. Because, the problem?

This move put me pretty much square on top of him. We were falling over each other far too much in recent weeks, and I would like to write a letter of complaint to God for allowing this to happen.

I looked up at him with wide doe eyes, unsure how to respond. He stared back, not with worry or awkwardness, but with a glinting amusement. He knew the position he'd put me in, knew that the kiss had affected me in a way it had not seemed to affect him. Knew I felt unbelievably uncomfortable and was pretty much kicking myself for kissing him, while he could go on as was, completely unflappable, and pat himself on the back for a fun hook-up.

I mean, the man must have superpowers, because nothing seems to affect him.

His hair was tousled and his hands gripped me, catching me from my fall.

"So, like, had you guys really not noticed the sexual tension before today?" Knight commented. "Because it's really palpable. I'm even getting a little horny by proxy."

I scrambled to my feet, immediately missing Hartley's warmth but never willing to admit it.

Hartley clambered to his feet too, refusing my offered hand. Smart boy.

"Has anyone ever told you that you talk to much?" I asked.

Knight gave me a small salute. "Often."

"Maybe you should consider listening."

"People have also told me I don't listen enough."

"Well, that checks out," I said. "We're off for dinner. We will bring you leftovers."

Knight shrugged. "Sure, nice. Try to refrain from giving each other the bang bang eyes for the whole meal. It could be quite off-putting for those trying to eat."

I eyed the platter and bags of chips that Knight had demolished over the past few hours. "It didn't seem to pose any problems for you."

"I was waiting for a show to start. Again."

I scrunched up my nose in disgust. Jace made a faint noise that sounded remotely like, ew.

Knight waved us goodbye, grinning, and I closed the door behind us to hide him from view as Hartley and I took the stairs down to the dining room.

I could foresee a shit tonne of teasing in my near immediate future.

Who needs Beccy Shaw? I'm the true prophet around here.