A moment later, a different man arrived with four tall glasses and a bottle of Champagne.
Walker’s brow twitched upwards. “What is this? Why am I here? What are we celebrating?”
For the first time since Kota had met him, Walker looked genuinely confused.
Tris gave Walker an exasperated look. “Seriously? You don’t know why you’re here?”
Walker shook his head. “Should I? Are you trying to get me to beta some new feature on the game? I’m not the guy for th?—”
“It’s your birthday!” Tris cried.
Walker stiffened beside Kota. Actually stiffened. Like he’d just been informed someone had died.
Kota turned on him. “It’s your birthday?” he cried, unable to disguise the betrayal in his voice.
Walker sighed, hitting the button on his phone, lighting up the screen, checking the date.
“Yep, I guess it is.” He sounded about as excited as someone remembering he’d scheduled a root canal.
He looked at Tris. “Do I even want to know how you know this?”
“We’re friends,” Tris said, making eye contact with Cade then nodding towards the Champagne.
“We’re not friends,” Walker told Kota.
“We’re totally friends,” Tris told Kota. “Right, babe?”
“Mm,” Cade said vaguely, reaching for the Champagne bottle.
Walker snorted. Kota made a noise of displeasure, giving Walker a stern look before whacking his arm. “Don’t be rude. They’re doing this for you. It’s sweet.”
The fact that somebody had remembered Walker’s birthday at all made something ache unexpectedly inside him.
A tight smile formed on Walker’s face. “Thank you,” he said begrudgingly.
The words looked physically painful. Cade peeled the foil from the bottle before popping the cork, once more turning heads. He didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care. He filled the four glasses, handing one to each of them.
“To old friends,” Cade said with a smirk on his face.
“And new,” Tris cried, clinking his glass with Kota’s first.
Kota found himself smiling, snuggling closer to Walker as he took a sip.
Walker immediately shifted his arm around him without looking, like it was instinct now.
After a minute, Kota leaned in, asking, “Why do people keep staring at us?”
“I’m the gamemaster,” Tris said smugly. “I’m the man behind the curtain. People are dazzled when they see me in the wild.”
“Or,” Cade said dryly, “they’re wondering why you’re wearing a soccer jersey that appears to have lost a fight with a pair of scissors.”
Tris gasped. “It’s fashion. You should try it sometime.”
Cade scoffed. “It was a crime.”
Tris’s smile turned almost cat-like. “That’s not what you said when you were licking salt off my abs on the pool table twenty minutes ago.”
Kota snorted into his Champagne.
