They shift and bite the plush of their bottom lip. "I think you like it when I misbehave, though," they suggest softly, smiling, before returning to the meal. They listen demurely as their Patron reminisces.

And Monty's mind wanders. They think: is this what it's like to actually be with Justin Baruch? The handholding (that wasn't tight and proprietary), the pushing back of the hair behind their ear as he leans forward to kiss their cheek, the way he says "sweetheart" like that? Is this the man everyone else sees at parties, at work, at the coffee shop? Gentle, charming, thoughtful, and comically indecisive about which side dishes might pair best with his steak so he just orders all of them? Is this what he's like when he's feeling nervous about someone, when he's hoping to fall in love?

"I want to dance," they say, hopefully, realizing that they didn't want this moment to end yet (possibly ever). Their hand is small and delicate in Justin's larger palm as they're lead out to the floor in front of the live band.