Was it getting warm suddenly? “Are you hot, Josie?” she asked through a mouthful of cake.

“No. But they are – hey! One of them is coming over. Thor,” she drooled.

“Not funny.”

“It is when I'm not you, hon.” She nodded behind Laura. Shit. Mike really was walking over here. Covered in food splotches from haphazardly digging into the delights, she wondered if the rest of her was as disheveled. Barely able to look, she forced herself to anyhow. The ratty old sweats that seemed like a good comfort choice at home made her look like Tori Spelling after giving birth. Her hair was shoved into a knotted mess and makeup – what makeup? It had been smeared off long ago. Hell, some of it was probably still on Mike's torso.

Her mouth watered. And not from the food.

“Hey.” Why did his voice have to have this reaction on her, like a warm breeze on wet skin, her every pore attending to his presence before she even looked back? Why did his tone make her body inhale sharply, every part of her lungs ready to sigh with pleasure at the very thought of his presence?

And why, for the love of all that is holy, was Josie goggling at them both like this was some sort of side show at a carnival?

Oh. Because it was.

“Grab his balls!” Josie's words made Laura glare, wide-eyed and wild.

“What?” she hissed.

Jumping up, Josie skittered around Mike as if he were a pillar holding up the restaurant. “Hey! Grab his balls!” She ran over to the cardboard cutout and began chatting up Dylan. All Laura heard was a handful of words from Dylan's sweet mouth:

“...I know, I...”

“...no, the balls weren't my...”

“...four? No, we never considered...”

and Josie's rat-a-tat-tat machine-gun fire conversation. Don't look at him, she told herself, though she could feel him, inches away, the hair on her skin like hundreds of thousands of little clitoral hoods, all aching for him, for release, for this yearning to go away, no matter what.

But especially via his touch. As if on command, his hand touched her shoulder. Involuntarily, she flinched. He pulled back. This dance? Really?

It sucked.

“Hi, Mike,” she said reluctantly. Couldn't ignore him.

Fluid grace poured into his limbs as he deftly slid into Josie's space, his movements belying his size. How could he – oh, she knew. Hands eager for connection, she pulled them into her lap, then sat on them, her ass pinning errant fingers in place, knowing damn well what she'd do if she didn't.

Wait. No. She was supposed to be angry with him. Them.

Everyone.

“Hi.” The shy act wasn't going to cut it tonight. She went for the throat.

“Stalking me? Isn't that Dylan's specialty?” He flinched and winced, then arched one eyebrow and took a deep breath. Target hit. So why didn't she feel victorious? Instead, her stomach roiled and nausea crept in. Why did he and Dylan have to ruin this? Her one refuge – food and Josie, together – and now what had been the beginning of sorting through threads entangled between the three of them had turned into even more enmeshment, confusion, and hurt.

“No – we – uh – ” He gave up, not making eye contact. Eyelids fluttered shut and he splayed his palms on the grooved table top, his right index finger worrying someone's carved name. Jane. Who had Jane been? Could have been Madge's mother, for all they knew.

Or one of Mike and Dylan's lovers.

Using his arms as leverage, he slowly stood, back curling and shoulders flaring, leaning in toward her. When his face tipped up his eyes locked with hers.

“Whatever you think right now, you're wrong. And when you're ready to talk, we'll be there.” One hand reached for her, steady and firm, the touch like tissue paper against a rose petal. An apologetic smile twitched in his lips and the skin beneath his eyes softened.

“We won't come after you, Laura.” He glanced over at Dylan, who was laughing at Josie, who had removed the warlock waitress's balls and was teabagging in front of an audience of golfers and hungover college boys. Mike rolled his eyes. “OK, I won't. Can't guarantee what Dylan will do.”

“He and Josie seem to have hit it off.”

“Is she twelve inside?”

That made Laura laugh. Bingo. His thumb stroked the underside of her cheekbone and she went liquid, all muscles melting and everything warm became wet. Mike leaned in and softly kissed her temple.

“When you're ready.”

Was Mike seriously kissing Laura right now? Right now, as Dylan was stuck with her friend, who was mouthing the very balls thousands of people had manhandled for the past decade? The very balls Jill had grabbed and stuck on the warlock in what now felt like another life?

Cool.

Whatever it took to thaw everything, to get Laura to believe that they wanted her, that they wanted a we that no one else really understood. Hell, they didn't even understand it. Who could blame Laura for feeling conflicted and fearful and –

Oof. This Josie chick just whomped him in his very real balls with those very fake balls.

“Hey! You paying attention there, Thor's sidekick?”

Thor's what? “My name is Dylan. Who is Thor?”

She laughed, rubbing the plastic testicles against her cheek, like stroking a kitten. “Like I don't know your name. You and Mike are all Laura talks about.”

“Really?” So they call Mike 'Thor'?

She shot him a look. “Really? Like you don't know. You aren't exactly conventional. I haven't seen Laura eat that much food in one sitting since Ryan left her. Some wicked show you two got going on.”

Show? “We didn't mean to – ”

Placing one long finger with an even longer fingernail against his lips she shook her head slowly. The rest of her fingernails looked like peacock tails. “You don't get to speak right now. In fact, I hope Mike there doesn't try to talk too much.”

Dylan snorted. “No worries,” he said. Except it sounded like “mo uhwees” with her finger pressing against his mouth. “He's a quiet giant.”

She made a face like she was impressed. “Then you might have a shot. Too bad you guys set her up. The last thing Laura needs is to feel manipulated.” She glowered. “Why am I telling you this?”

Whack. She smacked him with the rubber balls. “Ow!”

“You deserved it.” She was right; he did. They did. His stomach rumbled and he checked the wall clock. Pushing 5 a.m. Shit – he started a new shift in two hours. Whatever they needed to do to get Laura to believe that they wanted her – wanted more – and that this wasn't some pervy plot, they needed to do it fast.

Turning on the charm, he shot Josie a warm grin, his arm going up around the back edge of the booth, the gesture intimate and inviting. “You're her best friend. What would you tell some amazing guy – ”

“Guys.” She turned it into two syllables. Geye – ZUH. Which made it all sound rather pervy.

He kept going. “Guys. OK. What would you tell us to do to get her to explore this with us?”

“Explore? That sounds so...eww. Would you say that to someone if you were just in a one-on-one relationship? 'I want to explore this. Explore you. Explore your hoo-haw' – ”

“Hoo what?”

Just then, Mike approached. Thank God, Dylan thought. He was starting to feel a little too...something. Flinching, he pulled back from Josie and shot Mike a pleading look. Rescue me?

“Hi,” Mike said to Josie, extending his hand to shake. She grasped it and Dylan got a good, long look at those weird, long nails. Yep. Peacock tails. Golden, glittering streaks interspersed with some weird, glittery green and a bunch of colors you'd only see in nature.

She smiled real wide at Mike, clearly drinking him in. Some part of Dylan's ego felt chipped away, irked that she didn't look at him like that. What the hell was he thinking? Whether Laura's best friend found him attractive or not wasn't exactly top on his list of issues right now. Besides, Josie had asked him earlier if he and Mike had ever been in a foursome. Her intent was hard to read; sarcasm? Or – worse – an actual offer?

Mike's return grin was polite. Hesitant. He gave nothing. Atta boy, Dylan thought. Josie's face went a bit tentative, the first sign of any social filter in the woman. Mike could do that to people. He was so centered – not self-centered, but grounded – that his openness unnerved people. It was yet another aspect of him that drew Dylan, and probably Jill and Laura, to the giant –

Ah. Thor. Studying Mike's features, Dylan suddenly got it, chuckling at the women. Taller than most men, Nordic features, the dark blonde hair and those glittery eyes. Legs like tree trunks and a cobra chest and back. Thor.

Did that make him Loki? He shuddered at the thought, his chuckle fading fast. He was waay more built than that guy. More Captain America than –

“Earth to Dylan.” Mike was waving a hand the size of a catcher's mitt in his face. “Josie was just telling us some important information about Laura.” Mike widened his eyes and his look said Hey, dumbass, show some respect.

“Yeah. Sure.” Movement at the other booth caught his eye as Laura stretched her neck from one side to the other, then slid to the right, out of the booth and walked unsteadily to the bathroom. Her gait caught him unaware, and – yep, he was hard. That fine, round, soft ass sashayed away from him, her hips encased in some loose yoga pant fabric that clung to her curves, disappearing around the corner as she opened the door. It was unsettling when what he really wanted was that ass on him, in his lap, or in front of him, hands feeling every –

“...so I'm not going to sit here and pour out all of Laura's secrets to you two idiots, but you obviously need someone to hit you with a clue bat.” Josie held up the plastic balls. “Or clue balls. Whatever. You should have been upfront with Laura and told her that you know each other. And that you're gay – ”

“Nope.” Dylan crossed his arms over his chest. Here we go again. “Not gay.” Mike shook his head.

She smiled slyly. “OK, not gay. But...not not gay?”

Dylan pursed his lips, eyes narrowing, face hard. Mike had closed up, too. “We're not having this conversation with you.”

“No offense,” Mike jumped in, palm up and facing Josie in a gesture that asked her to give them a second to explain. “It's complicated.”

“It's always complicated.”

“Where have I heard that before?” Dylan muttered. Now he was getting pissed, and he could tell Mike could tell he was getting pissed, and he was hard from watching Laura walk away and now this little yippy drowned rat of a friend wanted to tell him allll about him and Mike. Judgment was all fine and good until the other person was just plain wrong.

Then it was torture.

“You don't know us from Adam,” Mike said in a soothing voice. Josie looked at him with rapt attention, her mouth open slightly, lips parted and face softened. It made Dylan like her a bit. Just a bit. Mike had that effect on women. On men. On dogs, for that matter. He could make almost any living being feel like they were the center of the world.

“And we hope you respect that. We know you're Laura's best friend and we know you know her far, far better than we do. Someday we hope to rival you on that,” he added, his grin widening, eyes lasered on Josie's.