Mine don’t. They never could.

Which is why I don’t realize that Stella has spotted us until she steps directly into my line of sight.

She steps up beside me under the pretense of refilling her drink.

“You do realize that if you hurt her, I’ll castrate you long before her dad gets to you . . . right?”

I punch my cup against the ice dispenser a little too hard to be casual.

“I’m not going to hurt her.”

“You forget I saw you that first night, all over her. She’s not like that, if that’s why you’re in it. She’s sweet and innocent.” Her voice falters on that last word, and she looks like she wishes she could take it back. “She’s not a hookup is what I’m saying. So if that’s what you’re after, get it somewhere else.”

“Do you really think I would risk my spot on the team just to hook up with her?”

She shrugs. “You wouldn’t be the first stupid one to try.”

My anger is too close to the surface today, and her words mixed with the thought of Dallas’s relationship rules make me so irate, I actually crack the plastic cafeteria glass I’m holding.

Soda pours out over my hand, and I curse, rushing to dump it out in the machine grates.

Ryan’s quiet mutter of “Incoming” is the only warning I get before Dallas is there beside us, drink in hand.

“You idiots do realize you’re holding up the line, right?”

I don’t look at her as I grab another glass and start to fill it up.

Stella leaves to head back to their table, and Dallas moves in closer to me.

“What’s up with you?” she asks.

“Nothing. I’m just having a f**king terrible day.”

I turn to go, and she grabs my elbow. She lets it go almost as fast, and if I weren’t so aware of her, I could have convinced myself that I imagined it.

“Sit with us,” she says.

I glance around the cafeteria briefly.

“What happened to not hanging out in public?”

“Sit beside Stella. No one will think anything of it.”

I don’t want to f**king sit by Stella, but I’m not stupid enough to pass up time with Dallas if I can get it.

Stella’s expression when I sit down beside her is the icing on the cake.

Ryan sits his tray down next to Dallas, but with one look at my face, he slides it down one spot and sits with one chair between them.

I wouldn’t have made him do that, but I like him all the more because of it.

“This is Ryan,” I say.

Dallas’s face is carefully blank. “I didn’t realize you had anyone with you.”

“It’s okay,” Ryan whispers. “My lips are sealed.”

When Dallas’s mouth falls open, and her green eyes catch mine, all that extra admiration for Ryan flies out the window.

“I didn’t tell him. He just kind of—”

“He didn’t,” Ryan says. “I’m just an intuitive genius. Probably going to get recruited by the CIA any day now.”

Stella snorts a laugh next to me, and at Dallas’s glare, she says, “What? I can’t laugh?”

“This isn’t funny!” Dallas’s tortured expression almost makes me wish I’d never sat down.

Stella is unperturbed. “You’re the one who brought him over here. If you’re that paranoid about gossip, there’s an easy solution. I don’t know how you thought it was going to play out.”

I can’t tell whether she’s more distressed by my presence here or Ryan’s, considering her rules.

“I wasn’t thinking! He just—”

She looks at me, and I really wish I’d never sat down. I want to spend time with her, not be the object of pity that I currently am.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

She arches an eyebrow in a challenge because she knows I’m lying. I arch one back because I don’t think our agreement of honesty extends to this weird four-way conversation where both Ryan and Stella are watching us with barely concealed expressions of interest. Besides, the conversation I want to have is unlikely to be something she wants to have in public.

Her eyes soften, and I think she gets it.

“Ugh. Dallas, just take him up to our room already and make out or something. These soulful, searching looks are going to give me hives.”

I would not want to be on the receiving end of Dallas’s glare, but Stella must be used to it.

“I have a solution!” Ryan says. “You guys don’t want to be seen in public together in case someone gets the wrong idea. Or really, the right idea, but you don’t want them to know it’s the right idea.”

Stella leans her elbows on the table. “Get to the point, 007.”

“Go out with me,” he says.

Stella looks at Dallas, but when Ryan keeps his eyes on her she says, “Wait . . . me?”

“Yeah. If we’re dating, then Carson and Dallas can just tag along with us, pressure-free.”

“One problem there, bud. I don’t date.”

“Not yet. I could be the one to sweep you off your feet.”

Her snort of laughter could have taken any guy to his knees, but not Ryan. He just continues grinning, completely unfazed.

“It’s a good idea,” he says.

She laughs even harder, and I think there might actually be tears in her eyes when she finally settles down.

“Yeah, well, listen.” She turns to Dallas. “I have to get to class. Sorry I can’t continue to be your buffer.” She slips her purse over her shoulder, and before she picks up her tray, she leans across the table toward Ryan. “If you want to ask me out, you’re going to have to man up and do it for real.”

As she walks away, he calls out, “I thought you don’t date.”

“I thought you were going to sweep me off my feet.”

Dallas stays picking at her food for a minute longer, then she says abruptly, “I need to go, too.” I sigh, and she adds, “I’ll text you.”

I don’t let myself watch her leave because that would just be the torture cherry on top of an already shitty day.

When Dallas said she’d text me, I didn’t think she meant immediately.

Third floor. Room 43. Take the stairs.

I take one look at the two plates of food that I barely touched, then switch my gaze to Ryan. He waves a hand. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll finish my lunch alone.”