“Why—why doeseveryonekeep using that analogy?” Esteban demands, flustered. “I am not a tree!”
“Buthelooks like a climber,” Cass says, waggling his eyebrows.
Obie elbows him in the ribs before turning back to Esteban with a frown. “Seriously, Esteban,” he says quietly. “He’s been very open about the fact that he likes you, and it’s pretty obvious that you like him, too. Sounds like a win-win to me.”
Esteban shakes his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Cass rolls his eyes. “Not for nothing, but I’ve been in this dimension since before this country was founded, and Obie may or may not have been around when dinosaurs roamed the Earth. We’re pretty good at understanding things.”
Esteban looks morbidly fascinated. “Were you really, Obadiah?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny the allegations.” Obie arches an eyebrow. “So? What’s the problem?”
For a long moment, Esteban considers them.
And then he lets out an explosive sigh, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the counter. “All right. Fine. I am… concerned… about the age gap between me and Nicholas.”
Cass squints at him. “Age gap?Whatage gap?”
Esteban looks appalled. “He is so young, Cassius! He is only twenty-four! Barely out of college!”
“So?” Obie says, shrugging. “You’re only, like, thirty.”
Esteban presses a hand to his heart, touched. “My friend, you flatter me,” he says. “But I’m forty-three.”
Cass blinks at him, surprised. “Really? You look fantastic.”
“Thank you,” Esteban says seriously. “It is the churros. They keep me young.”
“But that’s still less than twenty years,” Obie argues. “That’s not ahugeage gap.”
Esteban gapes at him. “Nineteen years is averylarge age gap!”
Obie gestures at Cass. “Cass and his soon-to-be fiancé have an age gap of over two hundred years, and it’s severalmillenniafor me and Kyle. Nineteen years is nothing.”
Esteban jabs a finger at him. “But there’s a certain point at which an age gap ceases to be an age gap and simply becomes comical. You have both reached that point.”
“Wow,”Cass says. “I’ve never actually felt old until this exact moment.”
Esteban doesn’t back down. “I’m going to grow old and die almost two decades sooner than he will,” he says, his voice strained. “Regardless of my feelings on the matter, that’s not fair to him.”
An unreadable expression flickers over Cass’s face. “You know,” he says, “JJ once said something very similar to me. About—about how he’s only going to survive for another eighty years at most, and I’m going to live forever. He asked me if I was sure it was worth it. If I was surehewas worth it.”
Esteban flinches. “Cassius?—”
“He is, by the way,” Cass says. “That’s, you know, why I’m asking him to marry me tonight. But my point is that you can’t make thatdecisionforsomeone else, Esteban. If there are other reasons why you don’t want to date him, then that’s fine. But he’s the only one who can decide if it’s fair to him or not.” He raises his eyebrows meaningfully. “I think you should talk to him.”
Obie smiles. Age doesn’t always equal wisdom with demons, but Cass has grown and matured in a thousand ways since the beginning of the year. Obie is proud of him for that. “I think you should, too,” he agrees.
“Youreallyshould,” Lucia adds sourly, appearing out of nowhere by her brother’s side with two trays piled high with food. “Mainly because I’m tired of hearing every other customer nag you about it.”
“All right, you know what, Lucia? Si no quieres oír, entonces puedes irte al infierno, y?—”
The two of them set about arguing in fairly vicious Spanish. Cass’s eyebrows shoot up.“Whatdid Lucia just tell him to do with a swordfish?”
“Best not to ask,” Obie says, grabbing a tray in each hand and nodding awkwardly at the bickering siblings. “Have a nice night, guys.”
They predictably ignore him. Cass tugs the trays out of Obie’s hands and turns back towards their table. “He’s going to say yes, right?” he asks, studiously avoiding Obie’s eyes. “JJ, I mean?”
