“First of all, that’s amazing to hear. You will make excellent parents.” She smiled a little before it turned rueful. “But unless I adopt too, I have a biological ticker I have to follow, and my parents went through years of trying and two rounds of IVF before Mom became pregnant with me. My aunt has had similar problems. I don’t know if that’ll be my fate too.”
I nodded slowly and swallowed the food in my mouth. “I hear you. Have you talked to August?”
“Not yet. I’m meeting him for dinner on Saturday.”
That’s what she thought. There’d be no dinner. We had plans for all the brats, so I would have to give the man a heads-up.
“Got it. Well, Tate and I are here for you. Anything you need, just let me know.” I gestured at her food. “You might be eating for two, so get crackin’.”
She chuckled, visibly tired but in higher spirits now. “Yes, Sir.” She took a big bite, and I moved my thermos of gazpacho closer to her. She should eat that too. “Hon, I don’t even know that I’m pregnant. No need to—”
“Shush. Eat the soup. It’s good for you.”
She scowled playfully but accepted the soup. “Can I move on to more fun gossip now?”
“If you insist, you little tattletale.”
She knew I wasn’t a fan of gossip, not that it stopped her. “Before I get started on Greer, have you heard anything about the boot camp event? Nothing has been announced on the website—not a single word.”
“If I had, would I tell you?” I shoveled some pasta and chorizo into my mouth and enjoyed watching her narrow her eyes at me.
Tate had been asking too. They’d both participated in a brat uprising last month, but since neither of them had been attached to a Top at the time, they didn’t know if they were going to get a taste of any repercussions.
Every month, we hosted a Game—a themed event where Tops and bottoms could compete both with and against each other. A group of brats had chosen last month’s Game to give us Tops a reminder that they could “light our shit up” and keep us on our toes.
Even though I’d been in a wretched mood that evening, the Dom in me—or more accurately, the brat tamer and primal player in me—loved those stunts. It was the most addictive part of my brand of D/s, the constant push and pull between a Top and a brat. And now that I was back together with my brat, yeah, he definitely had some fun consequences coming his way.
So did Ivy. There was a reason she and the other brats didn’t know anything about the event, because the Game was being organized behind their backs. Reese had included me in a group chat just yesterday after he’d asked me if Tate and I were joining.
Ivy stared at me some more, maybe debating whether to push it.
That’d never ended well for her.
“There’s something going on with you,” she accused. “You’re all…” She waved a hand. “Wolfish.”
That made me grin—wolfishly, of course.
I knew what she was referring to. Being back with Tate made all the difference. I wasn’t merely happier; I was sharper and more in tune with myself.
“You were gonna say something about Greer,” I said, forking up more food. I was a leftover man when it came to food, no doubt. And I loved Tate a bit more for knowing that. He made sure we cooked to feed a small army.
“Oh yeah! Do you know who Nathan is?”
“Vaguely,” I replied with my mouth full. “One of the riggers, right?”
We had a handful of cliques in our community in Mclean. The bondage crowd was definitely one. Those who engaged in Shibari and Kinbaku turned the club area into their dojo on weeknights most of the time. Some of them rarely went to our other events, though I remembered having met Nathan.
“He brought a friend to the Halloween party,” Ivy revealed. “A new member, actually. Archie. And I happened to be standing next to Greer when Nathan introduced Archie to some other people at the party, and lemme tell you, Greer looked like he was gonna be sick.”
I frowned. “I’m guessing they have a past.”
“Sort of.” Ivy dragged out the words, and I swore she had glee in her eyes. “Archie used to date one of Greer’s oldest friends, but if you ask me, there’s been drama. I think something happened between Greer and Archie.”
Yeah, I wasn’t gonna speculate. Greer was a great guy. We met up about once a month for a beer or six. Between him, my infrequent lunches with KC and Ivy, and my once-in-a-blue-moon workouts with Reese, they summed up my social life where Tate didn’t tag along. He was in charge of dinner parties and whatnot. Tate loved a good dinner party.