She takes another sip of whiskey. "At least you're willing to admit it was fucked up. That's more than I got from the other two."
"They were wrong. And I was wrong for not speaking up more forcefully when the conversation started going sideways."
"Why didn't you?" Her question is quiet, but it carries weight. "You're clearly the most rational one in that pack. You could have stopped it."
"Because I was selfish. Them two always gang up on me. I’m always the neat one. The rational one. The boring one. This time, the pair of them weren’t in agreement. There were no kisses and hugs last night.”
Savannah's eyebrows climb toward her hairline. "You wanted them to fight?”
"I wanted you to see that I'm not like them. That I would treat you with the respect and consideration you deserve instead of acting like a caveman with claiming issues." I pause, running my hand through my hair as I recognize how pathetic that sounds.
"Xavier..." Savannah's voice is soft, understanding.
"You came to Pine Hollow to plan Emma's wedding. You agreed to stay in our guest room as a professional courtesy, not to become the prize in some kind of pack territory dispute." I lean forward, my forearms resting on the bar as guilt settles heavy in my chest. "The fact that we turned your presence into a competition says everything about our maturity level and nothing flattering."
She's staring at me now with an expression I can't quite read, her head tilted slightly to one side. Surprise, maybe, mixed with something that might be relief. "Keep going."
"You deserve better than what we gave you," I say, my voice dropping lower.
"Like what? Pretending to be civilized?" Savannah asks, one eyebrow arching.
"I thought I was better than them," I admit, my shoulders sagging. "More refined. More mature."
Savannah finishes her whiskey and sets the glass down with careful precision, her fingers drumming once against the bar. "You are. Because you don't eat with your mouth open like Griffin or break wind without caring who else is in the room like Logan."
"We all do those things, Savannah. Apart from talking with food in your mouth. That's gross." I shake my head, a rueful smile tugging at my lips. "The more I think about it, I don't even know what Griffin's good qualities are."
She turns to face me more fully, and the bar's amber lighting catches in her hair, turning the auburn strands to burnished copper. Then we both break into laughter as we sit trying to think of Griffin's good qualities.
The sound bubbles up from somewhere deep in my chest, genuine and unrestrained. "God, you make me laugh," I say, wiping at my eyes as the laughter subsides. "I can't remember the last time I laughed like this, but I've been needing it since you came."
Her vanilla bourbon scent warms, carrying notes of genuine happiness that make my chest tight with something I don't want to name.
“You. You bring us together. Not tear us apart.”
Savannah stares down at her hands, and I can smell the shift in her scent as some of the distress markers fade. "I'm still angry about yesterday.”
"You should be. We behaved terribly," I say, my hands clasped tightly in my lap as I fight the urge to reach for her.
"I'm angry at all three of you, but myself even more." Savannah's fingers trace the rim of her empty glass, her movements agitated and restless. She looks up at me, hazel eyes bright with unshed tears that make my chest ache. "Because despite the territorial bullshit and the marking drama, part of me still wants this. Still wants you, and Logan. Griff is another story.”
Her voice breaks on the last words, and I can smell the shift in her vanilla bourbon scent as vulnerability mingles with frustration.
"Savannah..." I lean forward instinctively, my hand reaching halfway across the space between us before I catch myself.
"Which makes me either incredibly optimistic or phenomenally stupid." She wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand, a gesture so defeated it makes something crack in my chest.
"It makes you hopeful. And hope is what's going to get us through this if we're smart enough not to fuck it up again." I close the distance between us, covering her restless fingers with mine. Her skin is warm and slightly trembling.
She laughs, but there's no humor in it, just bitter resignation. Her shoulders shake with the sound. "Big if."
"Agreed. But I'm willing to try if you are. Willing to do the work to prove we can be worthy of your hope." I squeeze her hand gently, feeling her pulse flutter beneath my thumb.
"What kind of work?" Savannah asks, turning her palm up to curl her fingers around mine. The simple gesture sends warmthshooting up my arm, and I watch as some of the tension leaves her face.
"Pack therapy. Whatever it takes to learn how to function as mature adults instead of animals." I lift our joined hands, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "I want to earn your trust instead of assuming I deserve it."
"And Griff? Logan?"
