“Sweet as fucking sugar,” Colin agreed before Dexter could.
“Um, okay, so, I’m gonna put your stuff in. Like, I mean, your orders.” Dexter sighed. Words, which flowed so easily from pen to paper, didn’t want to cooperate with him tonight. “And I’ll bring your drinks out, okay?”
“Sounds good, buddy,” Daisuke said and went right to talking with Colin like Dexter’s presence meant nothing. “Right, so, tell me more about this giant comic exhibit of yours.”
“Not comic exhibit.” Dexter heard Colin laugh as he went back to the kitchen. “Comic inspired.”
As soon as he thought—hoped, prayed to God, Satan, whoever would listen—that it was safe, he dashed through the door and damn near started hyperventilating.
“Breathe, Dexter.” Gabe laughed at him. “I gotta say, you held your cool pretty well. Thought you gonna pass out there for a second. Guy’s a total babe.”
“Didn’t I tell you!” Dexter fanned himself with his hand. “Oh my God. Gabe, bring them the drinks?”