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“Let him come, too. I can’t take this anymore. Why are we waiting?Whatare we waiting for?” He squeezes my hand. “We already know she’s our Omega. What’s the point in waiting?”

I shake my head. “We don’t know that.”

“Bullshit. You know it, and I know it.”

I look around our living room, contemplating. “The house is a mess.”

“Babe, I don’t give afuckabout how messy our house is—and, by the way, it isn’t. You’re such a clean freak that you think one speck of dust makes it a dump.”

I feel Ace’s eyes on me. “We don’t have anything to cook,” I add, struggling to find any excuse.

It isn’t a bad idea to have them over now, but I don’t like last-minute change.

There isn’t time to plan properly.

“Then we’ll order in. You’re running out of excuses fast,” Ace says smugly.

I groan and let out a breath.

Nothing’s planned out. We can’t even host them properly.

I’m not just winning over Devyn. Whether Ace wants to admit it or not, we’re also winning over Ben. The delicate truce can easily be broken by saying or doing the wrong thing.

Because the truth is, if it came down to it, Devyn would choose Ben over us.

Devyn could slip through our fingers before we even have a chance to get to know her.

Ace squeezes my hand sharply. “Hey,” he says, and I meet his bright eyes. “You belong wherever I am, remember?”

I swallow and nod.

“And you belong wherever she is,” he adds.

I scoff. “If you say so,” I mutter, and Ace raises an eyebrow.

“You’re goddamn right I say so.” He sits up and grins at me. “Now text her. I’m tired of waiting.”

I chew my lip. “We have to do this right. I don’t want to push.”

He rolls his eyes. “She’s smitten with you, dumbass. Besides, if we have Ben over here, we can smooth everything out, and then you won’t have to freak out anymore.”

“I’m not freaking out,” I say too quickly.

“Right. You’re just being a control freak, like usual.”

“You don’t even like Ben.” I’m grasping at straws now, finding any reason why she shouldn’t come over tonight.

We’re not prepared. Devyn only deserves the best, and how can I provide her that when the house isn’t even clean?

Ace barks out a laugh. “I didn’t say I don’t like him.”

“But you don’t.”

“He’s not the one that booked me—it was his cousin. And he’s nicer than his cousin, at least. His cousin is a fuckingprick.”

“How do you know it was his cousin?” I ask, confused.

“He was doing a ride-along with him. It wasn’t my best moment. I called him a fucking prick to his face, so he probably remembers that.”