Adelaide nudges her out of the way and wraps her arms around me.
“Yes, because if you do, Octavia will start, and there’ll be no stopping her.”
“Hey!” Octavia protests.
“You definitely won. And if you didn’t...” Adelaide glances towards the judges.
I laugh.
“Stop. You and Hunter are impossible.”
Isaak raises an eyebrow. “Why is my woman’s name in the same sentence as fucking Hunter?”
“Get your head out of the gutter. I’m taken,” Hunter says, looking equally disgusted by the suggestion.
“If I get my way, I’ll be married within the next twenty-four hours,” he adds.
“Which would officially make you the third man in the group to get married,” Milo says with a grin.
“It’s not a competition,” Ophelia says.
But for Milo, I think it might as well be.
Apparently, he got married in July because he wanted to be the first one from the group to do it.
To this day, I’m not convinced Arlo is over the fact that Milo beat him to it.
Hunter wraps his arms around me from behind.
“Have we set a date yet?”
The question comes up every day. His daily attempt to find out whether I’ve finally chosen a wedding date.
I smile. “How does the thirty-first of May sound?”
“Bloody finally.” He breathes. “Though, fuck, it’s only February.”
He brushes his lips over my ear.
“Right,” he announces. “Looks like you lot have another wedding to attend.”
“What is with your obsession with marriage?” Adelaide asks. “The whole concept is absurd to begin with. And why the rush? Is anyone here pregnant or something?”
Ophelia laughs.
“Not that I know of. Though the urgency is entirely their fault.”
She points towards the men.
“If I’d had it my way, we’d have been married last March,” Hunter grumbles.
I shake my head.
“You’ll follow soon. Don’t worry.” Octavia points at Adelaide.
“Fuck no.”
“Good thing you won’t have a say in it,” Isaak replies.
