James's expression changed at the suggestion that she'd broken him. "Wow," he muttered, pulling on his earlobe. It had been touch and go. The spellcaster pulled the laminated menu from behind the syrup bottles and scanned it. He couldn't make up his mind if he wanted to eat this late at night or stick to pouring caffeine into his system.
"I'm surprised how much I do like it," he said. He blinked up at her from the list of appetizers, asking himself if Celeste was in the mood to talk-talk or hint at it. He wanted to press her, but Phanuel's arm gestures distracted him. James glanced over his shoulder at the waitress, back at the angel. "What are you doing, air traffic control?" he called over. "She'll get here."