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“Seven doesn’t swear,” I explain. “At least not with actual cuss words. He’ll swear up a storm with whatever nonsense words he’s come up with, which I argue is just as bad.”
“Shut your mother-fulluping mouth. Of course it isn’t as bad. It’s pure sunshiny fun.”
“Agreed,” Xander says.
“Your opinion doesn’t count,” I say. “You agree with everything Seven says.”
“Not true. I think thatKill Divershow is trash and overhyped.”
Seven’s mouth drops, a long sound coming from him like he’s been wounded. “You take that back.”
“Never going to happen.” Xander gives him a sweet smile that scrunches up the freckles on his nose and even Seven can’t argue with that face. He slumps instead, lips trembling against a snarl.
“You suck.”
“I wish.”
I turn my whole body away from their bickering and face Émile. “Hey.”
“Hello, you.”
“You’re pretty.”
His whole face lights up with my compliment. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Gaze at you in despair, torturously wasting away at all that man I get to look at and not touch.”
Émile palms my shoulder. “You actors sure are dramatic.”
“It’s in the job description.” I scootch a bit closer to him. “What are you thinking about?”
“How much I’m enjoying myself.”
“Really?”
He boops me on the nose. “You shouldn’t sound so surprised. Your friends might get offended.”
“It’d take way more than that to offend them.”
“It’s true,” Gabe jumps in. “We’ve all seen the people who are supposed to love us at their shittiest. Nothing really gets to us anymore.”
“Unless it’s indigestion,” Seven says, throwing a look Xander’s way.
“Isaidit could have been that,” Xander mutters.
Seven presses a kiss to the side of Xander’s head. “I’m glad we got it checked out anyway. And now, we get to eat tacos.”
That sufficiently railroads them back onto the topic of Mexican food as Émile lets out a soft sigh beside me.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yep, it’s just … don’t look, but we’ve been spotted.”
“Oh, shit.”
“It’s fine, I doubt they’re going to come over here, they’re just taking some photos.”
“Well, what do I do?”
