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“It was not nonsense.”

“It was a lot of nonsense,” I add. “You posted pictures of his abs and him working out every other day.”

Lucas stares at me innocently. “That’s because I’m obsessed with him.”

Tyler mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like “disgusting domestic bliss,” and I can’t even argue with him on that one.

The black kitten on the table chooses that moment to stretch again, completely unbothered by the chaos she’s somehow responsible for.

I look at Tyler again.

“Still doesn’t change the fact that you miss Viktor.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact that you’re sex-deprived and bitter,” he retorts.

Lucas sighs quietly.

This is why the three of us should never be left unsupervised.

❧

“God, this movie is so fucking boring.”

I yawn dramatically, stretching just enough to make a point before settling my head more heavily in Tristan’s lap.

“It is not,” he says.

He doesn’t even look down at me. His attention stays on the television while his fingers keep moving through my hair in slow, absent strokes, like he isn’t currently forcing me to sit through two hours of people whispering in expensive rooms.

“Yes, it is.” I roll my eyes at the screen. “Why is everyone just talking? Talking and talking. Nothing has happened in like forty minutes.”

“Something has happened.”

“A man looked out a window and sighed.”

“He was realizing he’d made a mistake.”

“Then he should’ve just said that.” I gesture at the screen. “Instead, he stared at rain for ten minutes like he’s being paid by the depression.”

Tristan’s hand pauses briefly in my hair.

“You have no patience.”

“I have patience for things that deserve it.”

“This is a good film.”

“It’s a long film.” I sigh dramatically. “And that woman with the short hair is unbearable. What is she even doing, monologuing at a wall?”

“That’s called dialogue, Maksim. Some films have it.”

“Some films have plots, too. This one apparently forgot.”

He doesn’t rise to it. Just keeps watching, maddeningly unbothered, like I’m background noise to whatever’s happening on screen.

“We should watch something good,” I try again, shifting so I can see his face better, gauge if I’m getting anywhere. “James Bond. Guns, car chases, a man in a suit doing something reckless and stupid for no reason. That’s cinema.”

“You just described your entire personality.”