“But it’s so big and ready to pop!” She even has the audacity to pout as she mimics popping the blackhead she found on my back earlier when she was giving me a massage. I glance down at her nails. These things are fucking weapons. Killers.

“I’m not letting you try again,” I deadpan. She almost tore my skin in half the first time she attempted to remove it.

“But it’s part of the friends-with-benefits arrangement!”

I turn to her with a dumbfounded look. “And who’s it benefiting?”

“Me!”

I bark out a laugh before wrapping her in my arms and giving the crown of her hair a kiss. Not moving, I glance at the mirror, where Wren is cuddling her face against my naked chest like a kitten. I’ll never stop craving this.

She moves away too fast, looking at the time. “Guess we need to get ready if we want to make it to the party.” She’s so monotonous while she says it, she could be falling asleep.

“Please try not to look too enthusiastic,” I tease.

“It’s your fault I’m going there, so you better let me pop that blackhead when we get back.”

I guess she does have a point. I almost harassed her to say yes to her cousin’s invitation. She has barely any family, and it breaks my heart. I have no idea what I would do without my mine, as crazy as they can sometimes be. If there’s one chance she could have someone like that by her side, she needs to take the opportunity.

“Deal,” I end up saying.

With a smirk, she says, “Okay, go get ready, then.”

With a salute, I exit the bathroom where we showered together minutes before and go put on a white dress shirt and black slacks. Knowing Wren takes forever to get ready, I head to her living room so I can feed the dogs and watch some TV while waiting for her.

Molly comes running toward me the second she hears the click of a kibble falling inside her metal bowl. Maybelle is slower behind, but she still comes. It took her a few days to get back on her feet after her surgery, but she eventually did. She’s in even worse shape than before, though. With her age and all her health problems, she probably doesn’t have long. I’m not sure whether Wren realizes this, but I know I’ll never bring it up with her, knowing how much she loves this dog. It would break my heart.

I know I’ll be there for her when she’ll need it, though. Every step of the way.

Once the dogs are done eating, I take them out for them to do their business, and when I come back inside, Wren is standing in the living room.

Jesus Christ.

She’s glowing.