Pharo:
I'm emotionally fragile right now.
Brandt:
Awwww. We know, buddy. Wings on me tonight
Bring your socks.
The guys were already half a pitcher deep when Pharo stormed into the wing place like a man on a mission. His hair was windblown, his jaw tense, and his eyes—those laser-focused, killshot eyes—were scanning the table for guilt.
He dropped into the empty chair with a huff.
“Okay,” he said, snatching a menu he had no intention of reading. “Which one of you goblins broke into my phone?”
Stiles raised an eyebrow. “You sure you didn’t just have a stroke?”
“I’ve been texting like a malfunctioning toddler all day,” Pharo snapped. “My boss thinks I confessed to a cheese addiction. My mom asked if I’m having a mental breakdown. And I agreed to drinks with Arlo, because when I typed ‘no,’ my phone said ‘Only if I’m wearing my lucky socks.’”
Nash leaned back, absolutely no help. “Honestly? Iconic.”
Brandt chuckled into his beer. “Don’t look at me, man. I can barely update my apps.”
Pharo’s glare swept the table again and landed dead center on Jax. Perfect posture. Perfectly neutral face. Way too neutral.
“You,” Pharo said, pointing a sauce-covered wing like a holy relic of accusation.
Jax blinked innocently. “Me? Sounds like you’re having a bad day, but don’t take it out on me.”
“That’s your hacking voice,” Pharo said with deadly calm.
Jax looked up, mild as unsweet tea. “What hacking voice?”
“That fake-casual, innocent thing. That’s the voice you use right before something explodes in my Google calendar.”
Stiles was snickering now. “Itwasimpressive. I especially liked the part where you typed ‘maybe’ and your phone said, ‘I’m emotionally fragile right now.’“
Pharo whipped around. “Thatone triggered a wellness check!”
Jax finally grinned, not even trying to hide it anymore. “Technically,” he said, “I just created a few personalized keyboard shortcuts to help you express yourself more clearly.”
“Clearly?” Pharo squawked. “I threatened to eat Brandt’s children!”
“I don’t even have children,” Brandt muttered, deeply unsure of how to feel.
Pharo jabbed a wing in Jax’s direction again. “You’re fixing it. Tonight.”
Jax nodded solemnly. “Absolutely.”
“I’m changingyourshortcuts to ‘I’m emotionally unavailable’ and ‘Oops, I hacked you again.’”
“Fair,” Jax said. “But you are wearing the socks, right?”
The table howled. Pharo groaned, sinking back in his chair and grabbing for the beer pitcher.
“I hate all of you,” he muttered.
“Love you too, buddy,” Nash said, raising his glass. “To cheese, emotional fragility, and lucky socks.”
