We stare at him, unblinking.

He throws the hotdog wrapper on the table. “Fuck you, Pinterest!”

Jake laughs. “So what you’re saying is that her cooking is bad?”

“I’m not talking bad-but-still-edible,” Cam responds. “I’m talking, I-want-to-puke-as-soon-as-it-hits-my-tongue type bad. Let’s just say I’ve mastered the art of optical illusions—food editing. I’m fucking hungry, man. Like, all the time.”

Logan goes to pick at the fries on the table but Cam shoos his hand away, then spreads his arms around the food and brings them all closer to him. “I’ve had Amanda’s cooking,” he tells Logan. “You can afford to starve. I can’t.”

Jake chimes in. “Neither of you cook your own meals?”

Cam answers first. “I try to. Hell, I try to do anything as long as it doesn’t mean eating ball-sweat-flavored raviolo but she’s on these hormone meds to regulate her period or something and she’s crazy. As in, more crazy than normal.”

“You married her,” I joke.

“And I wouldn’t take it back, D,” he says, throwing a handful of fries in his mouth. “Not for a fucking second.”

“I cook!” Logan announces, sticking his chest out. “I’m beast-mode with the ramen noodles.”

“Beast mode?” I ask.

Jake ignores me. “Kayla cooks for me. She has this weekly plan or something. Certain days she makes me carb-load for training and shit. It’s fucking annoying.”

“You love it, Jakey. Don’t deny it,” Cam says.

I laugh and look over at Jake. His cheeks are redder than they were a minute ago, and his gaze is lowered at the phone in his hand. He’s most likely messaging his girl about how much he loves and appreciates her. Seeing it makes me grab my phone from my pocket and text Riley.

Dylan: Hello. Do you cook?

Riley: Hello back. Where are you?

Dylan: Battingxcages witg thenboys.

Riley: And you’re texting me? Surely that’s breaking bro-code…

Dylan: Fuxk bro-code. I miss yiu.

Riley: :D :D :D

Dylan: wtf is that?

Riley: You said wtf! My boy is growing up so fast.

I laugh to myself.

Dylan: Chexk yourxdoorstep. I ledt you somwthinf.

Riley: And you were doing so well! Go be with your friends! I’ll be here when you get done! :D :D :D

Dylan: :d?

Riley: GO!

Dylan: Wait. Still no drink?

Riley: Not a drop!

I put the phone away and look back up to see three sets of eyes watching me. “What?”

Logan sighs and bats his eyelashes, then sits his chin on the back of his hand. With a high-pitched voice, he croons. “Soooo… who are you textiiiiing?”

Cam laughs. Jake doesn’t. He just continues to watch me with a slight smile.

“Riley.”

Logan asks, his voice back to normal, “Who’s Riley?”

I keep my eyes on Jake, sending a silent message. “Just a friend.”

Jake gets a call from Micky telling him they’re close to my house so we wait for Cameron to finish all the food and head back. Amanda’s car’s parked on the street when we pull up and her, Lucy, and Micky are standing around it, holding up signs that say Welcome Home and We Missed You and Team Silence.

“What the hell is Team Silence?” I ask Jake as I park in the garage and get out.

He doesn’t get a chance to respond before the cheering starts and the girls charge me all at once.

“Whoa!” Jake stands in front of me, his hands up. “His shoulder! Jeez, I told you guys about this.”

“Sorry.” Micky laughs, slowing down just in time. “We got a little excited.”

Jake steps to the side allowing each of the girls in for a hug and a few words.

“The gang’s all together again,” Lucy squeals, her arms around her husband. We all ignore the fact that, technically, she’s wrong, because for as far back as I could remember the gang always included Heidi. Considering how we left things—at a hotel room in Vegas with me telling her to get the fuck out and that I never wanted to see her again—it would be insane of her to even attempt it.

“I hope you’re ready to eat,” I tell them, leading them through the garage into the back yard.

The second I turn my back; I hear her voice. “Sorry,” Riley says, and I spin on my heels and face her.

She’s weaving her way through my friends, who part like the Red Sea to make room for her. Her eyes lock on mine and there’s something about the way she’s looking at me that keeps the breath in my lungs and my hands at my sides. Her eyes are filled with tears, but her smile—her smile tells me the opposite. God, I love it when she smiles. She doesn’t speak. Not a word. She simply walks toward me as everything but my heart seems to slow and by the time she reaches me, the only sound I can hear is the the blood pulsing in my eardrums. She places her hands on my chest and rises to her toes. Then she kisses me. Right on my mouth. And now her arms are around my neck and her lips are parting and when her tongue brushes along mine, I pull her into me with my arms around her waist and I kiss her back—our tongues, our lips, our bodies uniting as one and I don’t know how long we stand there, her body bent back from the force of my kiss because time doesn’t exist when it comes to Riley. Neither does the outside world, apparently. After a while, but not long enough, she pulls away, her lips red and raw from my attack. She smiles again, the tips of her fingers going to her lips. “Hi,” she whispers.