It wasn't the usual booth that Wyatt and Max took for themselves, but he made no compliant, allowing himself to be boxed in by the wall on one side, Max on the other. Truth be told, he kind of liked it.

The press of their knees different from the way he might have otherwise casually crossed his ankles over Max's under the table, but no less pleasant.

"That don't surprise me," he murmured, leaning a bit to catch the eye of a barmaid. (No, he hardly needed a menu.) "The Speakeasy's always been fair to tributes."

Did more for them, than most of them knew.