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Mik has been watching the whole thing with that patient, older-brother energy he wears well. When Bastian starts looking like he might genuinely storm out, Mik puts a hand on his shoulder and stands.

“Come on,” he says quietly. “Let’s get some air.”

Bastian follows him without argument.

They head toward the bar to grab drinks first. Tyler and Stone also return to the bar, and Nikko has slipped out of his seat and drifted closer to the stage again.

That leaves Fox and me. Alone.

The band is loud enough that we could shout at each other and no one would hear. But he doesn’t shout. He leans forward, forearms on the table, his beer bottle between his hands.

I lean forward too, just enough to hear him properly.

“How are you holding up?”

I laugh, and it comes out a little bitter. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve got a festival to save, my whole timeline is shot, and I have no idea if Bastian and Taylen will actually be able to work together on this.”

“Anything I can do?”

I shake my head. “Thank you, but it’s fine. I’ll figure it out.”

He studies me for a beat.

Then, in a quieter voice only I can hear, “Maybe I could help in ways that aren’t logistics.”

My face heats immediately.

I glance around. Nobody is looking. Nikko is by the stage. Stone and Tyler are at the bar, and Bastian and Mik are outside.

I put my hand flat on the table, and Fox mirrors me. Our fingers are a couple of inches apart. I inch mine forward and the side of my little finger brushes against his.

Neither of us moves. I raise my eyes and meet his. He’s not smiling, but something in his face tells me that if we were in my apartment right now, my back would already be against the wall. I swallow dry.

“Fox—”

We’re so distracted, neither of us notices Mik and Bastian approaching the booth until they’re sliding into their seats.

I pull my hand back and pick up my beer in the same motion. Fox does the same.

Nothing to see here.

“What are you two whispering about?” Bastian asks, putting his empty whiskey glass on the table.

I feel my face go redder while Fox looks entirely composed. Un-fucking-fair.

“Just picking Fox’s brain about sound-system logistics,” I manage. “Figured he’d know about power requirements for outdoor setups.”

Fox nods. “Basic stuff. Nothing complicated.”

Bastian’s eyes flicker between the two of us, but he doesn’t say anything.

My phone buzzes on the table, so I flip it over.

Chief Morrison:

Griffin, can meet you at Hall Farm tomorrow morning at nine. I’m bringing Marcus Chen from public works so we can do the assessment together and give you an answer the same day.

I let out a relieved breath.