“Maybe,” Bones says. “Depends on if Emma’s got class that night.”
“You don’t have to skip fight night for me,” I say, nudging him. “I’m not going to die if you leave me alone for a few hours.”
“I know. But I’d rather be with you.”
The table makes various noises of disgust at the sappiness, but I just smile and kiss his cheek.
“You two are disgustingly cute,” Mercy says. “I hate it.”
“No you don’t,” Cash counters. “You literally celebrated their reunion. Got teary and everything.”
“I did not?—”
“You absolutely did. I saw you.”
“If this were a movie, we’d all be crying. Thirteen years pining. He rescues her. They fight. And then . . . well, the entire club heard that part.”
I blush at the memory as Bones smirks. “Yeah. We may have gotten a little lost in the heat of the moment that day.”
“Heat?” Mercy fans herself with the back of her hand. “You two were combustible. And then you have the whole defying ordersto get you home to safety, another six months of pining . . . How could I not get emotional when you showed back up here again?”
“I love love,” Kya says in a tone that’s at once deadpan and almost wistful. “But I also love when people say the quiet part out loud, so here’s to you both finally getting it together. It’s honestly inspiring.”
Bones lets out a chuckle. “You getting soft there, Sullivan?”
Kya brandishes her glass like it’s a weapon. “Don’t make me throw you out of the booth, Bones. I bench more than you these days.”
“She’s not kidding,” Lee mutters. “She squats me. For fun.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Kya fires back, and Lee practically chokes on his drink.
I lean my head on Bones’s shoulder, watching my friends—my family—fall into a rhythm I haven’t been part of for years. It’s easy to forget, for a second, exactly how much time I’ve missed. How much this town and these people have changed while I was away.
But it’s also easy to see how much nothing has changed, either—like the way Ginger and Tank walk in, his arm slung over her shoulders like she’s his precious cargo to protect. They beeline straight for our table.
“Emergency meeting,” Tank announces. “We’re taking a vote. Ginger wants to get a dog. I think we should get a cat. Emma, you’re the tiebreaker.”
“Why am I the tiebreaker?”
“Because you’re neutral territory,” Ginger says, sliding into the booth next to me and forcing everyone to rearrange. “You don’t have a stake in this.”
“I have a stake,” Kya interjects. “Get a cat. Dogs are too much work.”
“Says the woman who owns a bar,” Tank mutters. “That’s literally constant work.”
“Different kind of work. I can leave a bar and it doesn’t shit on my floor.”
“If we get a dog, I promise to clean up all the shit,” Ginger says to Tank sweetly.
“You say that now?—”
“I solemnly swear on my love for you that I will handle all dog-related bodily functions.”
Tank looks at her for a long moment, then sighs. “Fine. We can get a dog.”
Ginger squeals and kisses him, and Tank pretends to be annoyed but I can see him fighting a smile.
“You’re all whipped,” Cash observes. “Every single one of you.”
