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“You can get the next round,” Roan smiles as we head for the table. “That’s how I’ve always done it.”

“Sugar,” Clay’s voice is rumbling deep when he looks at her. “You aren’t buying a damn thing again tonight.”

“You don’t—”

“No, we do need to,” I cut her off. “It’s how dating works for us. Let us handle it.”

“Oh,” she gasps. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

“We know,” Clay says. “That’s what courting’s for, so we can get to know one another.”

“So tell me about you,” she insists, lips sealing around her paper straw.

“Well, let’s start with the fact that I landed the hottest football player in our hometown,” I start, ready to spill all the silly stories I have about Clay.

This is my element. I’m not sure Roan realises I’m not talking about soccer, but her eyes light up all the same when I reminisce about what our Alpha was like when we were younger.

“What he’s not telling you is that I only had two things on my mind, football and one geeky boy from my homeroom class who was obsessed with space movies.”

“Obsessed?” I sputter. “I believe the word you’re looking for is connoisseur.”

“C’mere Roan.” Our Omega happily sidles up to Clay. He wraps his arms possessively around her hips as he whispers in her ear.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” I know he’s telling her something that is absolutely going to rile me up, and I can’t wait for it. My tail’s wagging about a mile a minute just wondering about what he’s saying.

Roan’s gaze flicks to mine over the table, a little sparkle behind them. Whatever Clay told her, it was juicy.

“I’ve been told that there is a costume.”

My face heats as she looks at me. Clay really cut me deep with that one.

I love a good cosplay or a reason to dress up.

I know the guys down at the game shop play tabletop games, but I’m a space cowboy sort of nerd.

I don’t want to slay dragons when I could be saving alien babes.

My Commander Arlak costume is peak alien babe, but what if Roan thinks I’m too weird?

“But more importantly, can we please talk about how ridiculous it was that they cut the romance from Planet Pteranodon: Invasion of Tentacles ?”

My mouth drops open. She knows about the Ptera-verse. Holy shit!

“I know!” I gasp. “Tentacle erasure. Those aliens felt love.”

Clay’s gaze is smug as he watches Roan gush about her favourite space movies like he’s heard me do a thousand times.

Hell, I’m struggling to keep my boner concealed while she explains how she painted a whole series at school dedicated to the films. It's easy getting lost in the lore of my favourite series with Roan. Every odd little fact I’ve memorised gets her all the more excited.

“What’s your favourite faction, Clay?” she asks him at one point, when things are getting a bit wound up between us.

“As the guy who attached ten billion rhinestones to that costume, if I’m not in Arlak’s cyborg platoon, I will quit being his assistant.”

Roan’s eyes go all big and soft when he says it, and I’ve never felt luckier in my whole life.

Clay is everything I could have ever wanted in an Alpha and life partner.

My finger curls into his belt loop, and I pull him in for a soft kiss. Roan leans on her fist with this adorable, lusty, awestruck look on her face, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her what that look is for. But I don’t need to.

The moment she gets the chance, she pulls Clay down and kisses him on the cheek.

His jaw goes slack, and his grip on her hip loosens enough that she slips free of his hold.

I’ve only got a second before she buries her small hands in my furry neck to kiss me too.

Her breath tickles my whiskers right before the press of her lips meets my cheek.

“Let’s keep dancing. I feel like I’m finally getting the steps.” She bounces a little when a new song starts up, taking both of us by the hand to drag us out onto the floor.

Clay takes the lead now, twirling us around the scuffed floor and keeping us in line for the two-step.

When the night blurs between laughter and gentle caresses, the band starts playing something with less boogie and more hip swing.

Roan’s body presses between ours, my hands resting on her soft hips while her arms are slung over Clay's shoulders.

The heat of her body teases mine, making my cock dream of being buried somewhere hotter and wetter.

It's not often I feel an urge to be a top, but with our Omega I want it, need it. As she presses her ass into me, I look at Clay. His eyes are hungry, staring down at our mate. They flick to me, and I feel his stare like a brand on my heart. Our Omega, our mate, our pack.

“You keep working your little body like that, darlin', and we're gonna have to take you home now,” I groan in her ear, fingers flexing into her plush, giving hips. It’s not polite or discreet, but I grind a little into her too, so she knows what she's doing to me.

Her head falls back onto my shoulder, and she inhales the base of my neck. Just like it did a few days ago, the act of her scenting me goes right to my fucking dick.

“Then let's go home.”