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“Hey! What the fuck?” Lana said, outraged.
“You’ve looked at that RSVP list about eighteen times. It’s time for a break,” Travis chided.
Lana rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in a pout, but she didn’t get up to retrieve the device. “I’m sorry, but I don’t need a walk down memory lane,” she grumbled. “Besides, it was mostly Marley and Cole with the sparks between them. You just ineffectually flirted with me most of the night.”
“Don’t even get started on whose memory is the worst of that night,” Paulette griped. “At least you weren’t the fifth wheel while everyone else got cute boys talking to them.”
Ginger’s eyes glazed over as she nursed a beer.
“I think you made out okay,” I teased.
“I didn’t make out for months. I just had to hear about you guys doing it,” Paulette argued.
Ginger slid her eyes over to her, using her free hand to grasp her chin. “I think I made up for lost time, don’t you?” she asked lowly.
Paulette turned scarlet and cleared her throat awkwardly. “Anyway…” she said, suddenly flustered.
“See, that’s how I know you’re perfect for each other,” Lana said to Ginger. “Only you are capable of shutting her up like that.”
“Happy to do my part,” Ginger joked, casually returning to sipping her beer.
“I should throw you all in the garbage,” Paulette grumbled.
“You love us,” I said, sticking my tongue out at her.
“I do, and it’s ANNOYING!” she shouted.
“Yeah. We have no idea how that feels,” Lana said.
“I’m about to take back my offer to babysit tomorrow,” Paulette retorted.
“She’s lying,” Ginger scoffed. “She’s been excited about it all week.”
“Shut up!” Paulette told her. “You’re ruining my fun.”
Ginger gave her that uncanny smile that reminded me of Cole’s before leaning in and claiming her mouth in a passionate kiss.
Cole looked over at Noah immediately, deflating as soon as he saw his son was asleep. “You guys remember there are children present, right?”
“What? You got a problem with two girls kissing?” Ginger challenged.
“No, I have a problem with people sucking face in front of a child.”
“Oh, please,” Travis protested. “You’re one to talk!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cole asked.
“Baby, you’re like the king of kissing me in front of people,” I teased him.
“I don’t make out with you in front of people,” he said.
I gave him a playful wince and shrugged as if to say, okay, if you say so.
For the next ten minutes, a friendly, hilarious debate sparked up about what was considered kissing and what was considered making out. It felt like a discussion a bunch of prepubescent teens would have, but it was light and funny, and it felt good just to argue over things that didn’t ultimately matter.
We went home in the small hours of the morning, Noah’s soft face cradled against Cole’s shoulder as we walked out to the car. I watched him sleep in the rearview mirror as we made our way back up the mountain, leaving this small bubble of comfort to go back to our responsibilities as people and as pack leaders. I let out a sigh, feeling somewhat melancholic.
Reading my thoughts, Cole reached over and took my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We’ll have this all soon,” he said, “In a little while, we’ll be set up so we can just have calm, easy nights like this all the time.”
