My original plan to drop her off and give her my number so I could come back and get her was immediately dashed as she catapulted herself out of the SUV and ran to greet the mass of people that flowed out of the house. I could get her number from Trick, but it didn’t feel right to drive off without a word. I followed slowly behind her, trying to take in everything at once.

The house wasn’t huge—a two-story Victorian in bright purples and yellows—but the amount of people coming through the door gave it a clown car feel. A swarm of small children ran ahead of an older, gray-haired lady with a no-nonsense bob and a huge smile, followed by several Asian men and women and a handful of people that looked like they’d be at home in a modern-day Viking reenactment. Since this area had several pockets of Scandinavian influence, my guess probably wasn’t far off.

A pale, statuesque redhead folded Lou into a hug. They looked a lot alike, which made me think she might be Lou’s mom.

You never know what someone’s family will be like. We have this idea that families are a very set pattern—one mom, one dad, possible siblings, grandparents, but very few seem to actually fit that restrictive mold. I had half siblings, my stepmom, and my father. My family wasn’t a great template, but that’s not because it broke the mold—it was because my dad and my stepmom were toxic. The only pattern that really mattered—love—Lou’s family displayed so casually it was almost humbling. This was a family that loved each other and it was there in every laugh, movement, and gentle chide.

I absently clicked the lock button on my SUV, making it beep. They all turned, their expressions a mix of curiosity and wariness, like I was a lone wolf that had stumbled into another pack. With a start I realized they were kind of right. I was an interloper, danger status unknown, and Lou’s family would protect her without thought—it was all in the body language.

I dropped my shoulders and dug my hands in my pockets, trying to look nonthreatening.

The redhead quirked an eyebrow. “And who’s this?”

“Mom, this is Declan, my new roommate—”

I cut her off before she could confess about her car and stepped forward, offering my hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

A man came forward, slinging an arm around Lou, giving her a kiss on the cheek. His black hair was longer on top and slicked back, the sides razored almost to the scalp, emphasizing the handsome lines of his face. His skin was light brown except his arms, which were covered in bright tattoos. His arm stayed around Lou and I was surprised by a sudden jolt of jealousy.

I shook it off. Lou wasn’t mine. Lou would never be mine. I was lucky we’d reached the point where we could easily be in the same room.

The guy jutted his chin forward. “This the guy Van hexed?”