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Finnley laughed. “Because it’s usually true.”

“You read a lot?” Liam asked.

“I work in a library,” Quinn replied, in a scandalised tone.

Finnley nudged Milo. “See? Another hot librarian.”

Quinn grinned. “Thank you.”

Theo watched me over the rim of his glass, but I ignored him.

“I’d love to work in a library,” Finnley said with a sigh. “It must be nice having only one job.”

Quinn frowned. “How many do you have?”

Before Finnley could reply, Milo chuckled. “He has two. Three if you count the dog walking.”

“That last one isn’t work,” Finnley retorted. “It’s helping cute dogs get their exercise. It also means I’m guaranteed not to have conversations that make my eyes roll back into my head.”

“That part comes with his morning job,” Oliver said with a smile. “He works in a coffee shop.”

“I keep telling him if he ever gets tired of it to come work in mine,” Elliott added. “I could use more help.”

“You run a coffee shop?” Quinn brightened instantly. “That explains why you look awake.” He leaned forward. “Please tell me you judge people by their orders.”

Elliott appeared mildly offended. “Of course I do.”

“Good.” Quinn snuck a glance at me. “What would Max order, if he came to your place?”

He tilted his head, studying me as he rubbed his scruffy chin. “Black coffee.”

Quinn nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s emotionally consistent.”

I glared at him. Quinn simply smiled. He gazed at Elliott. “This coffee shop of yours… does it serve great coffee?”

“The best.”

“I’ll come by sometime.”

“Bring Max,” Elliott said promptly.

Quinn glanced at me. “Oh, he’ll be there.”

The certainty in his voice caught me off guard. It wasn’t hopeful or tentative, just

matter-of-fact, as though it had already been decided. And sitting there with the noise of the pub around us and my friends laughing at something Finnley had just said, I realised something quietly unsettling.

Quinn wasn’t waiting to see if he fit into my life. He’d already stepped into it.

He was totally oblivious to my quiet epiphany. He scanned the faces around the table as if he was cataloguing personalities.

“Okay,” he said at last. “Roll call.”

Julian blinked. “Roll call?”

“Yes. I know your names but not your life stories, which seems unfair given how much material Max has clearly given you about me.”

Liam laughed. “You’re assuming he told us anything useful.”