Page 67 of Flint's Arrow
“You get to do whatever you want now,” Devon said firmly. “Dance, paint, wear ridiculous overalls to clubs.”
“They’re not ridiculous.” Wren straightened. “They’re fun.”
“They are fun.” Flint touched his own straps. “I’ve worn mine for years. They’re practical.”
“And cute,” Arrow added, his hand settling on Flint’s lower back. “Don’t forget cute.”
A woman approached their table, her eyes locked on Arrow. She wore a tight dress and heels that made her tower over Flint.
“Want to dance?” She directed the question at Arrow, ignoring Flint completely.
Arrow’s expression went ice cold. “No.”
“Come on.” She reached for his arm. “Just one…”
“I’m here with my husband.” Arrow’s voice cut through the music, sharp enough to draw attention. He pulled Flint closer, his hand possessive on Flint’s hip. “So no.”
The woman’s eyes flicked to Flint, taking in his overalls and small stature. Her lip curled slightly before she turned and walked away.
“Wow,” Pax said. “She was rude.”
“She’s gone now.” Arrow focused on Flint, his expression softening. “You okay?”
“Fine.” Flint wasn’t, quite - that dismissive look had stung. But Arrow’s immediate defense helped.
“She’s an idiot.” Arrow cupped Flint’s face, forcing eye contact. “You’re the best-looking person in this entire club, and everyone with working eyes knows it.”
“Arrow…”
“I mean it.” Arrow kissed him, right there in front of everyone. Not a quick peck but a real kiss, claiming and tender all at once. When they broke apart, Flint felt steadier. Through the bond, he felt Arrow’s absolute certainty - his mate genuinely believed what he’d said.
“Plus, you could kill everyone in this building without breaking a sweat,” Storm offered helpfully. “That’s pretty hot.”
“Very hot,” Pax agreed. “Competence is sexy.”
“Can we please not discuss killing people at the club?” Devon sighed, but his lips twitched. “At least not loudly.”
They finished their drinks and returned to the dance floor. This time Flint didn’t hesitate, pulling Arrow along by the hand. The music shifted to something slower, and Arrow drew him close, their bodies moving together.
“Having fun?” Arrow asked, his lips close to Flint’s ear.
“Yeah.” Flint wrapped his arms around Arrow’s neck. “I am.”
“Good.” Arrow’s hands settled on Flint’s hips again, thumbs rubbing small circles through the denim. “Because you deserve to have fun. You should never worry about what strangers think.”
“You make it easier.” Flint pressed closer. “When I’m with you, I don’t feel small. I feel like I’m exactly who I’m supposed to be.”
Arrow’s arms tightened around him. Through the bond, Flint felt his mate’s love and protectiveness.
They danced until late, trading stories at the table and laughing at Pax’s increasingly elaborate jokes. Storm challenged Devon to a dance-off at one point, which ended with both of them laughing too hard to continue. Wren taught them all a complicated step pattern he’d apparently learned from watching videos online.
By midnight, they were all pleasantly buzzed and tired. Devon called for the check, and they headed back to the truck.
“Best night ever,” Pax declared from Storm’s lap.
“Top five at least,” Wren agreed, snuggled against Devon’s side.
Arrow’s arm was around Flint’s shoulders, keeping him close. Flint leaned into his mate’s warmth, content and happy.
