Page 37 of Flint's Arrow
“Come here,” Flint mumbled, pulling Arrow down beside him.
Arrow went willingly, gathering Flint against his chest. Flint nuzzled into the crook of his neck, right over the claiming mark. The contact sent warmth flooding through the bond.
“Mine,” Flint murmured sleepily.
“Yours,” Arrow agreed, pressing a kiss to Flint’s hair. “Always yours.”
Chapter Thirteen
“They’re definitely crispy,” Flint said diplomatically, poking at the blackened edges of his fried egg.
Arrow groaned from his position at the stove, where he was scraping what looked like the remains of another egg off the pan. “I swear I followed the video exactly.”
“Which video was that?”
“‘How to Cook Perfect Fried Eggs in Five Minutes.’” Arrow glared at the pan like it had personally betrayed him. “It took me twenty minutes, and I still managed to wreck them.”
Flint bit back a smile. His mate - and that was still a hell of a rush thinking that - stood in the kitchen wearing nothing but sweatpants riding low on his hips, spatula in hand, looking adorably frustrated. The claiming scar on his neck stood out white and fresh against his skin.
Mine.
“Practice makes perfect,” Flint offered, taking a bite. The egg tasted fine under the crispy bits. “Besides, I’m not the best cook either. That’s what the grill is for.”
“Levi would probably teach me.” Arrow abandoned the pan and slid into the chair across from Flint. “He didn’t seem so bad after he stopped threatening me and my lineage, and Calvin seems okay.”
“They’ll come around.” Flint reached across the table, threading their fingers together. The bond hummed contentedly at the contact. “All of them will. You did good with them all last night. Just give them another week or two, and it’ll be like you never lived anywhere else.”
They’d woken up wrapped up in each other sometime after noon. Arrow had insisted on attempting breakfast despite Flint’s suggestion they just grab donuts from the bakery. Watching his former suit-wearing mate struggle with basic cooking had been worth the wait.
“I should probably clear out my hotel room today,” Arrow said around a mouthful of toast. “You know, if you were thinking it was all right for me to live here with you.”
“If that was a question, the answer’s yes.” Flint chuckled. “I can’t think of anywhere else my mate might be living.”
Arrow’s cheeks got quite red when he blushed. “I should probably return the rental car, as well, before they charge me another day.”
“Good idea.” Flint squeezed Arrow’s hand. “I’ll come with you.”
Arrow’s expression softened. “Yeah?”
“Of course.” Flint ducked his head, suddenly shy despite everything they’d shared the night before. “You’re not getting rid of me now.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Arrow tugged Flint’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “I know what it’s like to be without you, and I’m not going back to that hellish existence. Fair warning, though, my suitcase will be a disaster. I basically threw everything in there when I left my apartment.”
“You left your apartment, too?” Flint blinked. “I thought you just took time off.”
“Nope. My apartment is on the market. I left the keys with the agent, packed everything I could into two suitcases, and drove straight to Big Sky.” Arrow shrugged like abandoning his entire life was no big deal. “I knew you would absolutely hate living in my apartment, and it seemed pointless to leave it empty.”
The casual certainty in Arrow’s voice made Flint’s chest tight. His mate had burned every bridge without hesitation, had restructured his whole existence around the possibility - not even a guarantee - that Flint might give him a chance.
“What about your car?” Flint asked because he needed to say something before the emotion rising in his throat spilled over. “I don’t understand why you drove here in a rental if you already had a car?”
“I sold mine before I left.” Arrow grimaced. “It was an Audi. It didn’t really fit with my ideas about a new life.”
Flint raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with an Audi?”
“Nothing, if you’re trying to impress other agents in cybercrimes or the good old boys at the country club.” Arrow’s mouth twisted. “Which was the whole point when I bought it. It was the same reason I bought the downtown loft, filled it with designer furniture… did you know I even had a gym membership. Me. A wolf shifter with a gym membership I never used. It was all part of the image.”
The bitterness in Arrow’s voice was hard to miss. Flint thought about his own small house with its secondhand couch and the greenhouse he’d built himself from scavenged materials. About how the most expensive things he owned were his gun collection, and technically, they were a work expense.
