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“I hope they’re not dicks to Taylor,” Larkin murmured to me, sipping his soda. I watched Camille step forward to kiss Taylor’s cheek before I turned to Larkin and smiled down at him.

“Holt won’t let them be.”

He grinned back, darting up to kiss me. “I want to go and give him his bowling shirt.” He snickered.

“We’ll wait ’til the introductions are done.”

“Yeah.” Larkin glanced back and shuddered. “A whole frickin’ family of empyns, dude. Not sure I want to spend too much time around them. His mom’s kinda scary. She’s like the villain version of my mom. Like she can see into your soul, but, like… in a way that makes you all nervous instead of calm.”

I chuckled, sipping the last of my one beer for the evening. I was driving us back, plus I wanted to be completely clear-headed for later. Once we were at home.

My stomach tightened with a rush of arousal as I looked down at Larkin. He wanted me to fuck him tonight. He wanted to take my knot.

I was getting us out of here the moment it was socially acceptable to leave.

As if he knew where my mind had gone, he grinned slyly and wrapped an arm around my neck, tugging me down for another kiss.

“I can’t wait for later,” he murmured against my mouth, ignoring Carl and Dan, who walked past us and snickered at our PDA.

“Neither can I,” I rasped.

Our conversation earlier, in the car, still felt a bit like a fever dream. Larkin had told me he loved me. Larkin loved me. After pining for him for so long, it didn’t quite feel real yet.

I was still worried about being too forward and pushing him into something more serious than he wanted. I’d stopped myself from telling him that I’d already been in love with him long before our ‘arrangement’ began. Maybe I would tell him one day, but… not yet. I didn’t want to put that pressure on him, or freak him out, or make him feel any kind of guilt for not realising. It wouldn’t achieve anything. I could show him how much I loved him.

“Lark!” Taylor called, making him turn around. “Do you have our shirts?”

I handed them to Larkin and we made our way over in time to hear Camille politely say to Holt, “So these are your… wrestlers.”

“I can see why you went into this line of business,” Amalie muttered, her lips tilting into a demure smile as she caught Crossbody’s eye. He was lounging elegantly in some seating by the bar with Corey, both of them sipping tall, clear mixed drinks. Neither had put on their bowling shirts, which wasn’t surprising in the least.

He slowly smirked back, eyeing her over the rim of his glass.

“No, Amalie,” Holt said in a flat voice, then stared blankly at the shirt Larkin thrust at him. “What’s this?”

“Your shirt, bro.” As Holt parted his lips, eyeing it warily, Larkin quickly added, “Taylor had them all made especially. He’s got one too.”

He exhaled and smiled over at Taylor as he took the shirt. “Thanks, babe.”

“You don’t have to put it on,” Taylor said wryly.

“Of course I’m going to put it on.” Holt sniffed, holding it up. “It actually matches my suit.”

“Which is dope, by the way,” Larkin piped up. “You somehow look good in it, bro.”

“Thank you, Larkin,” Holt said with dry humour. “Well, I guess Taylor and I will go put our shirts on so we can start bowling. Mom, I can introduce you to everyone after if you want. Amalie, please don’t hit on any of them.”

“Holt, please don’t tell me what to do,” his sister replied easily, still eyeing up High Lord Crossbody. Then she caught sight of Ludo, who was standing with Kenneth and Brian and sipping a beer, and her eyes flared again.

Larkin must have noticed her interest in another werewolf, because he shuffled closer to me and slipped a possessive arm around my waist, even though he’d already introduced me as his boyfriend—as well as Holt’s bodyguard—to Amalie and Camille earlier. I still loved the possessive display. It made me grin down at him and press a kiss to his temple.

“Well, we’re gonna go bowl,” he told them. “If you change your mind, you can get some shoes from Kelly at the counter.”

Amalie chuckled as she glanced down at our bowling shoes. “Sweets, you couldn’t pay me to put those on. I’m surprised Holt’s willing to.”

“Because Taylor organised this for him,” Camille said impatiently, giving her daughter a brief frown. “And darling, Holt is right. You absolutely cannot abandon me to spend the evening flirting with the wrestlers.”

Amalie sighed. “Alright, Mother dearest. Where’s my drink?”