“I don’t have his number, okay? This is pointless.” Val gratefully grabbed her glass when Jeff appeared with more beer.

“Who is he?” Jess leered. “Go on. Where did you meet?’

“He’s a pilot,” Val finally admitted.

Isabella gasped, clutching her ample bosom. “A pilot! Does he fly jets?”

“Helicopters,” Val muttered.

“A helicopter pilot!” Isabella almost swooned.

“Wait, you said you took Sinatria on a helicopter tour of Manhattan. Don’t you hate heights?” Liam laughed.

“See? That’s why I turned him down,” Val lied.

Isabella snorted. “Bullshit.”

“I do hate heights,” Val insisted.

“That’s not why you turned him down, though.” Jess raised her eyebrows. “Is it?”

Tetra’s head turned from Val to the others, her mouth open as she absorbed their conversation.

“No,” Val mumbled.

“It was that pilot, right?” Liam pressed. “He’s the one who asked you out?”

“You should text him,” Jess declared, wiping beer off her upper lip. “Tell him you changed your mind.”

“That was weeks ago. I bet he doesn’t remember me,” Val grumbled.

“Of course he remembers you,” Liam insisted.

Isabella whipped out her phone. “We can find him. What was the tour company called?”

“Guys. Stop,” Val moaned.

“We’re getting you a date!” Jess waved a finger at Val with the unsteadiness of a human who’d had too much dwarf-made beer. “If it’s the last thing we do!”

“C’mon, Val.” Isabella poked her again. “What harm can it do?”

“Okay, fine.” Val folded her arms and muttered the name of the company.

Isabella typed. Jess leaned over and almost fell into her lap as she scrolled through the results on her phone.

“Oh! They’ve got a website, and there’s a ‘Meet the Team’ page.” Isabella tapped. “What was his name?”

“Booker,” Val mumbled. “I don’t know his last name.”

Jess squealed so loudly that other patrons in the bar turned to stare. “Val, he is hot!”

“I want to see.” Tetra leaned closer.

Isabella held up the phone for all to behold the pilot, who was, to be fair, very hot. A thick cluster of sun-streaked coils topped his broad, friendly face, which featured dark eyes dotted with specks of hazel.

Val’s cheeks got redder.

Isabella grabbed her shoulder. “Val. Text him. Now.”

“I don’t have his—” Val began.

“I’ve got his Facebook!” Jess waved her phone. “We can message him and ask him for his number.”

“’We’ are not doing anything!” Val squawked.

Isabella plucked Jess’s phone from her hand. “She’s right. We can’t go around messaging random hot dudes on her behalf, Jess.”

Val exhaled. “Thank you.”

“She has to do it herself.” Isabella grinned wickedly, picked Val’s phone up from the bar, and handed it to her.

Val took it. “I don’t⁠—”

“Roll with it, Val.” Liam sipped. “You don’t have a choice.”

Tetra snickered.

“You know you want to,” Isabella prompted.

Val grabbed her glass and finished it. Pleasant fuzziness wrapped around the edges of her thoughts, and as she typed the words Booker Johnson into the search bar, she realized this wasn’t a bad idea. His profile photo showed him grinning in a flight helmet. He had excellent dimples.

“You know what?” Val announced. “I’m doing it.”

“Yeah!” Isabella cheered. She exchanged a high-five with Jess.

“Do I want to know?” Enzo asked, gathering empty glasses.

“Nope,” Liam told him.

Enzo rolled his eyes. He slid a shot glass across the bar to Tetra with a conspiratorial smile, which the faerie returned.

“Which year is it?” Tetra asked, raising the glass. Isabella, Jess, and Liam were too focused on Val’s typing to notice.

Enzo grinned. “An old one. Think...Sylthana.”

Tetra raised her eyebrows. “Before the queen’s mother?”

“Uh-huh.” Enzo nodded.