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“I won’t apologize for science.”

She holds the s’more toward him. “Bite it and tell me the weight distribution is wrong.”

Briggs takes a bite large enough to remove half of it.

Temple stares at the remains in her hand. “You fucking animal.”

“You offered.”

“I expected a sample.”

“I don’t believe in ineffective portions.”

Chocolate has collected in his beard. Temple reaches toward it before seeming to realize what she’s doing. Her fingers stop near his mouth.

Briggs goes still.

The playfulness between them changes into something quieter. His gaze lowers to her hand before lifting to her face.

Temple wipes the chocolate from his beard with her thumb. “You missed some.”

“I was saving it.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“You touched it.”

“I was performing a public service.”

Briggs catches her wrist before she withdraws. For one suspended second, neither of them makes a joke.

Then Temple looks at the chocolate on her thumb. “Are you going to eat this too?”

Briggs releases her and laughs. “You’re weird.”

“You just declared tacos sandwiches.”

Charm settles between my legs with my jacket still around her shoulders. Her back rests against my chest, but she doesn’t completely relax into me. She can feel everything I carried away from the bar even if she doesn’t know its shape.

I wrap one arm around her waist and press my mouth against her temple.

Her hand covers mine. She doesn’t ask whether I’m okay.

That trust should make the fear quieter.

It doesn’t.

Across the fire, Lyric watches Briggs and Temple with an expression sharp enough to cut through the darkness. She has spent most of the evening drifting between her phone and the bar, only approaching Briggs when someone else holds his attention.

Temple lifts what remains of her s’more. “You owe me another one.”

“I improved it.”

“You ate it.”

“The unstable half.”

“The half with most of the chocolate.”