He peered over at me. “I apologize for the language.”

I waved him away, dismissing his apology. “There are no rules here.” I looked around my loft with a grin. “That’s part of its charm.”

“How was work?” Gunnar asked, his eyes bouncing between Kirby and me. His tongue fell just behind his teeth when he spoke, causing the slightest hint of a lisp that I found undeniably adorable.

Gunnar was naturally polite and considerate, yet when I joined him and Kirby on nights out, his foreboding glare would keep any unwanted male attention at bay. On many occasions, Kirby had mentioned what being the love interest of a superhero felt like, never feeling afraid or worried because Gunnar had it handled at all times. Although he spent his time in the gym when he wasn’t studying or with Kirby, Gunnar didn’t have the girth of a serious bodybuilder, but he was tall and just bulky enough to be intimidating. His only fault was that he was too nice, trying to be everything for everyone, often making him late and overwhelmed in the process.

Exhaling, Kirby stretched her legs over her boyfriend’s lap. “It was wonderful. Falyn has a date.”

Gunnar looked to me for confirmation.

I shrugged. “My parents showed up. They were there when he asked. I kind of had to say yes.”

He shook his head with a smile, already knowing where the story was headed. “Poor guy.”

“He knows,” Kirby said.

“Oh. Then it’s his own damn fault,” he said.

I pulled a throw pillow from behind my back and hugged it to my chest. “It’s just dinner anyway. It’s not like I’ll break his heart.”

“That’s what I said when Kirby asked me out,” he said, chuckling.

Kirby yanked the pillow from my grasp and chucked it at Gunnar’s head. “Stop telling people that! They’re going to think it’s true!”

Gunnar was still grinning when he plucked the pillow off the floor and playfully tossed it back at her. “Maybe I want you to believe it. That version at least makes it seem like I haven’t been chasing you the whole time.”

Kirby melted.

With little effort, Gunnar pulled Kirby onto his lap and gave her a quick peck on the mouth. He stood up, lifting her with him, before quickly setting her on her feet.

“I’m glad you’re leaving,” I deadpanned. “PDA makes me nauseous.”

Kirby stuck out her tongue, letting Gunnar lead her by the hand to the door. He stopped, and she did, too.

“Good luck tomorrow,” Gunnar said.

Kirby’s features sharpened into a mischievous grin. “The guy is the one who needs the luck.”

“Get out,” I said.