“Are you famous or something?” I blurted out, and Jane looked embarrassed enough for both of us so I didn’t bother blushing.

“What do you mean?” He sounded confused, so I finally looked up at him.

He had sandy hair that stood up in a disarray that I’m sure he had planned. His skin was utterly flawless and beach bum tanned, and that was unnatural for people in Minnesota in March. His eyes were a weird blue-gray color, and there was something tremendously boyish about them, about him really, but otherwise, nothing seemed to stand out as overly attractive. I just didn’t get it.

“Everyone’s staring at us. At you,” I corrected myself. Jack just shrugged and looked down at the table, but didn’t bother checking to see if I was right.

Even Jane peered out behind her long eyelashes and reddened cheeks to confirm my statement, and I knew she saw it too because she blushed even deeper and put her hand possessively on Jack’s thigh.

“I’m not famous,” Jack replied quietly. He looked like he wanted to explain things more, but then the waitress appeared with three mugs and a pitcher of coffee.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” the waitress batted her eyes at Jack, who continued to ignore her.

“We’re fine, thanks,” Jane snapped. She had claimed him all for herself, and she had just noticed that everyone in the room was competition, so her claws were coming out.

“Just let me know if there’s anything at all.” The waitress reluctantly walked away, and Jane glared at her the entire time.

“Come on.” I rested my arms on the table and leaned in closer to him because I’d lowered my voice. “You had to have noticed that. You seem like a pretty observant guy.”

“I don’t have an answer for it.” He picked up the pitcher of coffee and poured a cup for himself and me, and then as an afterthought, filled Jane’s too.