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Seb and I had stayed behind in the office together with Cora so they could be alone. I may have ended up sucking him off in the bathroom, but otherwise, we were totally professional at work. Most of the time. When Holt was around.

We spent a lazy morning in bed on Monday, sleeping in late and talking aimlessly as we lounged around before finally getting up. We were heading over to the bowling alley early to get everything ready for Taylor, so we’d arranged an earlyish lunch with Seb’s parents, which meant we had to leave after showering.

“I hope they like me,” I said nervously on the drive.

“They will.” Seb sounded so calm and confident that I relaxed a little, grinning over at him.

“Do I look okay?” I glanced down at my outfit of jeans and a pale pink button-up shirt, which I’d ironed at Seb’s before we left so it wouldn’t be all creased.

“You look beautiful.” Seb reached over and squeezed my thigh. “Very handsome. You always do.”

I laughed. “Not first thing in the morning.”

A crooked smile tilted his mouth. “You look especially beautiful first thing in the morning.”

I flushed, covering his hand with mine and threading our fingers together. Sometimes I just wanted to blurt out how much I liked him, but that word didn’t feel big enough. It wasn’t big enough. I liked my friends. I liked Taylor and Holt and everyone else at work. How I felt about Seb was… more. Way more. So much more.

How I felt about Seb was scary in the best way. Something deeper and way more intense and simultaneously terrifying and comforting. Like I already knew that he’d always be there, and the thought didn’t make me feel all restless and overwhelmed, but relieved. Calm. Really, really freaking happy.

I was still clutching his hand when we pulled up outside his parents’ house. The town wasn’t as big as the one we lived in, but they still lived a fair distance from it on a small patch of land that backed onto a big forest. Ideal for werewolves. The house looked kind of like a big log cabin, but a fancy one with wide windows and a huge back deck that overlooked the woods. As we were parking, Seb told me his dad had built it when his mom was pregnant with his older sister Maeve. This was where Seb had grown up.

I hurriedly tucked the strands of hair that had slipped free from my braid behind my ears as we crunched over dirt and pine needles to the front porch. The wood looked like it had recently been power-washed, and there was an old rocking chair on the porch next to a stack of freshly chopped logs. I kind of wanted to see Seb chopping logs. Shirtless. Maybe in a pair of tiny cut-off denim shorts like the ones Dan wore for his wrestling persona.

The screen door was open, and Seb didn’t knock before opening the front door, holding my hand as he led me inside.

“Ma?” he called as I looked around. It was nice. An airy front hall with a staircase directly opposite. Lots of stained wood. My dad would’ve painted it all bright colours if it’d been our house.

An archway to the right led into a cosy living room with a big stone fireplace and lots of blankets draped over two big, squishy couches, which were upholstered in faded tartan fabric. The air smelled like cinnamon and clove and citrus, reminding me of the candles my mom bought every Christmas.

A tiny blonde lady who I recognised from the photos in Seb’s house appeared from the door on our left, wearing slippers, faded jeans and a knitted burgundy sweater under an apron. She had a pronounced limp, but it didn’t seem to be paining her as she beamed at us.

“Hello, my darling son,” she said as Seb dutifully ducked down to kiss her cheek. Then she grinned at me. “And you must be Larkin.”

“Yes.” I gave her a nervous smile, trying not to fidget too much. “I’m—Um, hi, Mrs. McCullough.”

“Call me Emma.” She stretched up to peck my cheek, making me blush, then chuckled. “You’re tall too, huh?”

“Um, yeah.” An awkward laugh bleated out of me, a touch too loud, making me wince as her smile widened.

“You’re fae, yes?” She flapped her hand at me. “Don’t feel like you have to stay like that. Get comfortable, hon.”

“Oh. Um, thanks.” I cast Seb a quick glance, then shifted into my fae form and gave Emma another timid smile.

She smiled back warmly. “So pretty. I love your hair.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled shyly, finding Seb’s hand to clutch it again.

“Come and sit in the kitchen.” She turned for the door. “I’m just finishing up lunch. What do you want to drink?”

“I’ll do it, Ma.” Seb gave me a reassuring smile behind her back as he led me into the kitchen. “Where’s Dad?”

“Just neatening up his beard.” She chuckled. “Wants to make a good first impression.”

Seb laughed as I flushed and gripped his hand tighter. His parents didn’t need to make a good impression on me. It was the other way around.

“Thank you for having me,” I said as Seb pulled out a chair for me at the battered, solid wood table in the middle of the kitchen. “Your home is really cool. Lovely,” I quickly amended.

There was a sunken snug area past the kitchen that led out onto the back porch, which was clearly visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows and French doors. The kitchen cabinets were painted cream, and the well-kept, oiled wooden counters were spotless and mostly free of clutter. Our kitchen at home was crammed with stuff—Mom and Dad liked to keep things out so they were easy to find, and my mom just loved trinkets. So many freaking trinkets.