I smile up at him, dazed. "You're quite a sight yourself, handsome. Let's get going."
He opens the door for me, helping me into the car before getting in on the driver's side.
"Is it bad?" I ask as he pulls into traffic. "Just tell me if it's bad."
"Don't know," he admits, and fuck, even his accent is thicker with stress. "The letter came an hour ago. From the league. Jax called everyone together, and I was closest to you."
Warmth unfurls in my chest. "You waited for me?"
His massive hand finds mine across the console. "Of course we waited. You're pack."
"I'm not technically pack yet," I point out. "Not until I move in."
"Technicality," he dismisses. "You have been ours since that first dinner. Just took time to make official."
God, this man. Six feet five inches of muscle who could snap someone in half without breaking a sweat, and he turns me into emotional mush with a few words.
"I can't wait to be living there," I admit. "Waking up with all of you every day. Well, when you're not traveling."
"Me too," he says, seeming to be visibly restraining himself from going faster. He never speeds with me in the car, even though I can tell it physically pains him sometimes. "Don't like you being alone. It's not safe."
I have to laugh. "I've lived alone for years, Dmitri. I think I can handle it for a few more days."
"Still don't like it.” His jaw sets in that stubborn way I'm learning means argument is pointless. "We should have moved you in after Vancouver."
"You guys have been at my place every night," I point out. "Sometimes more than one of you. I'm hardly ever actually alone."
A grin cracks his serious expression. "It's not the same. At the house, we can protect you properly. Make sure you eat enough. Make sure you sleep."
"Make sure I'm thoroughly fucked?" I offer.
He chokes on air. I can't believe I actually rendered Dmitri speechless.
"What? We both know that's part of the appeal. All of you, one house, thick walls..."
"Woman," he growls, but his ears are pink. "Save that talk for when I'm not driving, unless you want me to pull over and knot you on the side of the road."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," I tease, squeezing his hand. "But Tuesday can't come fast enough."
"Agreed," he says fervently. Then, quieter. "It will be good. Having you home."
Home. The word settles in my chest like a promise.
The pack house comes into view, and my nerves kick back into high gear. Through the windows, I can see movement, all of them waiting inside.
We head inside to find organized chaos. Zayn's pacing a hole in the living room carpet. Aidan's stress-baking has reached critical mass, and the kitchen counter practically groans under the weight of enough pastries to feed an army. Jax stands by the window, spine rigid.
And Darren sits on the couch, holding an envelope like it might explode.
They all turn when we enter, and I'm immediately engulfed. Zayn reaches me first, pulling me against him hard enough to steal my breath.
"Thank fuck you're here," he mutters into my hair.
By the time I've been passed around to everyone, and kissed utterly breathless, I'm settled on the couch between Darren and Dmitri. The letter sits on the coffee table like a live grenade.
"So," I say when the silence stretches too long. "We doing this?"
Darren picks up the envelope with hands that barely shake. The return address is official, intimidating. League headquarters. The seal unbroken.
