He placed the bottle in the warmer and pulled me closer. “Babe, you deserve dates. You deserve pretty things, and for us to tell you how amazing you are, and anything else your heart desires. You deserve the world, and I intend to give it to you.” He kissed my forehead. “But we’ll start with a date.”

After a few moments, the bottle finished warming, and he grabbed it out. With one last brush of his lips on mine, he grabbed his bags and climbed the stairs shouting, “Shots! Shots! Shots!” like this was a frat house and Huey was about to tap the keg.

I laughed as I finished prepping the salad for dinner, and was still chuckling when Devan strolled in, right on time. He hadn’t been staying late at work the last couple of nights. I didn’t know if it was because the guys were gone and he didn’t want me to be lonely, or if he just liked it better at home. Either way, it was nice.

He shucked off his jacket and tossed his briefcase onto the hall table. He strode toward me and swept me up into his arms, kissing me like he couldn’t wait to get me naked again. Over the last few nights, we’d had a routine: we came home, ate some kind of takeout, and then we’d put Huey to bed. After that, he’d fuck me on every surface available.

It was a good system. But it wouldn’t happen tonight, because tonight, we probably needed to have one of those conversations. You know the ones—slightly awkward but entirely necessary.

He pulled back and squeezed me close to his chest. “The guys are home?”

I nodded. “Yeah, they just got in. They’re upstairs putting Huey to bed.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Did they seem okay?”

“Same as always, but maybe more touchy-feely?”

He hummed an amused sound, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling his sleeves up his forearms. Why was that so damn hot?

“I just bet they are,” he growled, kissing me again.

Rigby bounded back down the stairs and grabbed us both in his long-armed reach. “What, starting with dessert first, Dev? Who’s a bad boy? You are, yes you are,” he simpered in a baby voice. He messed up Dev’s perfectly coiffed hair with his knuckles, making Dev swat at him.

“You’re a fucking child, Rigby Engman,” he grumbled, making me laugh.

Rigby’s wide smile conveyed the message that he didn’t give a shit, better than any words could. “Hands off our girl. You’ve had her for a solid five days, and I’m touch starved.”

Devan rolled his eyes, but planted one last quick kiss on my lips and stepped toward the fridge. “Beer?”

Rigby lifted his hand and caught the craft beer flying through the air with ease. Dev passed me mine gently. Sweet jerk.