Page 16 of Wanna Bet?

Ellis tilted his head. “By the looks of your hair, I'd have guessed you were late.”

Jace ran a hand through it automatically, which only made it worse. Ellis snorted.

“Rough morning?” Ellis asked.

“Alarm didn’t go off.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“I hate you.” Jace scrunched his brows, tossing his bag to the ground behind the counter.

“You love me.”

Jace turned on the computer and clocked in. “Debatable.”

Ellis slid a stack of records toward him. “Sort these by artist, then alphabetize within the artist. Also you owe me snacks for last movie night because you ate literally all of my chips.”

“Look,” Jace said. “I asked if you wanted some. Not my fault you didn't respond.”

“I can't with you.” Ellis sighed, exasperated.

Jace started flipping through sleeves, grateful for the familiar rhythm. The store smelled like cardboard and old plastic and faint bread from the shop next door. It always grounded him a little, like stepping into a place where time moved slower.

Ellis leaned his elbows on the counter. “Speaking of hanging out,” he said, tone turning casual in a way that meant it wasn’t casual at all, “we should have a game night this month.”

Jace glanced up. “We always say that.”

“And this time we’ll actually do it.”

“You said that last time.”

“And the time before that,” Ellis admitted. “But this time I’m serious. I found this ridiculous co-op game where you have to run a haunted bakery together and it looks chaotic in a way that feels spiritually aligned with our friend group.”

Jace huffed a laugh. “A haunted bakery.”

“Yes.”

“Like ghosts baking?”

“Yes.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You’ll be there.”

“I will absolutely be there,” Jace said immediately. “That sounds incredible.”

Ellis pointed at him. “See? I know you.”

Jace shrugged, trying to play it cool even though the idea genuinely sounded fun. “What day?”

“Late month. Gives people time to pretend they’re busy before admitting they’re not.” Ellis nudged a record sleeve toward him. “You bring drinks.”

“You bring snacks.” Jace grinned.

“Deal.”

They bumped fists over the counter, the gesture easy and automatic from almost two years of friendship. Jace settled into sorting, letting the quiet hum of the store fill the space between them. A soft instrumental track played through the speakers overhead. Outside, sunlight slanted through the front windows, catching dust motes in the air.