"Last time he stared at your chest for forty-five seconds without blinking. That's not 'couldn't handle it,' that's 'successfully overwhelmed.' There's a difference."
"Robin —"
"The green henley is a strategic asset, Silas. Deploy it."
Knox catches my eye. Shrugs. "Wear whatever you want. It's your date."
"Thank you."
"The henley's better though," Knox adds, and everyone nods.
I escape to shower before they can form a committee. The apartment above the bar is small. My room, the bathroom, the hallway that connects to Knox's door and the spare room that's now officially empty since Nico decamped. The building wasn't designed for this many people. Knox has been talking to a contractor about the five acres. It's not just thinking out loud anymore. There are blueprints, Nico pulled permits, Vaughn cleared the back fence line. Houses. Real houses, for all of us.
Including, possibly, eventually, a room for someone new to our pride.
I'm getting ahead of myself. We're just dating. I haven't told him I love him. I haven't even said the word mate out loud, though my lion has been saying it for two weeks straight, a constant low frequency under everything I do.
Shower. Shave twice. Brush teeth twice. Stand in front of the closet.
The blue button-down is nice. Safe. Appropriate for a nice date.
The green henley is comfortable. Makes my eyes look good, according to Robin. Made Devin stare at my chest without blinking. I put on the green henley.
My phone buzzes. Nico:Good luck tonight. Ezra says you're nervous.
Me:I'm not nervous.
Nico:Sure. Have fun tonight. Devin seems good for you.
Good for me. Not sweet, not cute. Good for me. That's the highest compliment Nico gives. The man who walked away from a six-figure corporate job because it was destroying the wrong people, who rebuilt his entire life around doing work that mattered. He doesn't use words carelessly.
At 5:25, I head to the café. Robin's closing up for the evening. Through the pass-through window, I can hear him talking to Devin.
"Stop torturing that espresso machine. It's clean. Beyond clean. You could perform surgery on it."
"Just making sure everything's ready for tomorrow."
"Dev, everything's been ready for tomorrow since four o'clock. Silas is waiting for you. Go clock out."
I lean against the counter to wait. Devin comes out from the back, sees me, and his face goes soft and bright at the same time, like I'm something wonderful instead of just a thirty-two-year-old shifter who reads too much.
He's wearing a black henley I haven't seen before. Robin must have given it to him, because it fits too well to be from Devin's wardrobe of three shirts. It makes his skin look luminous and his eyes impossibly dark.
"Hi," he says, soft and pleased. Then his eyes catch on my shirt. "Oh no."
"What?"
"The green henley. Robin said you weren't supposed to —"
"Robin says a lot of things."
"I can't look directly at you. It's like staring at the sun."
"That's dramatic."
"You're devastating and you know it." He's trying to be annoyed but he's smiling, and the combination makes my chest ache in a way I don't want to fix. "Give me a minute. I need to finish clocking out and also recalibrate my ability to function."
"Take your time."