Nayan laughed again, tossing his head a bit with the force of his chuckle dark eyes flashing amused from beneath the brim of his Indiana Jones hat. “It is,” he agreed at a more normal tone and distance, the music having died to more acceptable roar. He paused briefly, as though something had occurred to him suddenly and in much the same way he had when they first met he held up a hand for a stop.
“Wait, wait,” he demanded, lifting his other hand as if to find the idea that hand escaped him with it. He snapped his finger. “It’s your birthday!” His tone was vaguely triumphant, eyes dancing as he gestured toward the bar. “C’mon. I’ll buy you a drink to celebrate and you can tell about how your friends are going to throw wild rockstar parties for you.” He winked. “And how you’re going to persuade them to loan out their instruments for a little while. Ha. That I did not forget.”