"They're going to give me an epically horrible birthday party when I turn thirty, I just know it. I will never live all my teasing down." He looked over at her, thinking she didn't even look that old. Maybe a little weary from her long day, but still lovely. "Oh yes, plenty of time. You're far from old."
He grinned impishly. "I would have, had it continued. But I was supposed to be the 'rebel' of a sort, or that was the role I seemed to fall into at the beginning of things." Whereas really he'd been more of the 'mother hen of common sense' as things went on. He'd gotten most of his wild streak out pretty young, and settled into himself.
He lifted a shoulder in a half shrug, fingers absently spinning his water glass in his hands. "I'm good at this sort of thing, just one on one?" he said, gesturing between them. Though if he were to be perfectly honest, he'd fallen into a comfortable groove with her more carefully than most people. "Or small groups, or people I already know. But big situations or people I don't click with right away--and I don't usually, with many people--I tend to ... hang back? And observe, I suppose. Which I suppose lent speculation to the brooding 'bad boy' thing. Which I still don't get, just sayin'." He rolled his eyes slightly.
If someone wanted bad, they really should go to John, who was the one who got in the most trouble, or Colby, who was the loudest about it, for all both men were good guys under it all.