Cooper walked toward him and Park pulled him close, tucking his face behind Cooper’s ear. “I was frustrated last night. Scared, too,” he said quietly. “Maybe I still am. But never miserable. Not once since the day I picked your awkward ass up at the airport and watched you fidget and check me out and mumble to yourself, lost in the case file the whole drive to Florence. It makes me happy, working with you.”

Cooper started to protest that he shouldn’t stay just because of him, but Park pulled back slightly and held a finger to his lips. “And I need it for me. If the Trust had been what it is now ten years ago, I wouldn’t have had to do half the things I did as the Shepherd. Ruling packs have too much power because they’ve been wolves’ only viable resource for too long. The sort of work that we do together through the Trust? Being able to put the skills of the Shepherd to use for the good of any wolf who needs it and not just the one pack? I need to believe that helps balance the scales. I need to,” he added, almost like he was speaking to himself.

Cooper eyed him. “I’m no expert, but you’re starting to sound a little WIP, don’t you think?”

Park snorted, expression relaxing. “I wouldn’t go that far. Spread the power, yes, but I personally still need pack.” He pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Right, well, would you take a neurotic mess and his cat instead?” Cooper said, weakly jerking his thumb at Boogie.

Park smiled, amused, and returned to stirring his coffee. “It would be my honor.”

They headed out to Neil’s soon after, just as it started to drizzle. Cooper had gotten the address from work. Neil was right—privacy was an illusion.

He had moved since Cooper had known him. Of course, he would have. It had been years and he’d lived in a too-small apartment even then. Not too dingy, but not anything anyone would linger in for a decade, even if they only had the means to move to another equally cramped but different four walls.

What Cooper didn’t expect was for him to be in a large cookie-cutter house in a gated community forty minutes outside of DC in the opposite direction of where he and Park lived. Not too far from Jagger Valley, where Cooper had grown up, actually. Every house on the block exactly the same, every lawn a monoculture of precisely rolled-out grass, the neighbors within a stone’s throw. Groups of them were wandering around, blatantly taking up the middle of the road, daylight trick-or-treating. This must be the noon shift: parents pushing strollers or wandering behind five-year-olds dressed as superheroes and running like ducks. Park had to slow the car to a crawl before they were finally able to pull into Neil’s driveway.