When he pulled away, he said, “I missed you last night.”

She hugged his neck tight, burying her face against his throat. “I missed you, too.”

“We’re going to get some breakfast,” Gwen said, easing by them.

“Ric’s coming over to make us breakfast,” Lock argued.

“Ric can buy us breakfast instead.”

“I’m not leaving so this idiot can have makeup sex in our apartment.”

“Come on, man,” Bo pleaded. “Can’t you help an Asian brother out?”

“No!”

Blayne pressed her mouth against Bo’s shoulder to stop the laughter from spilling out.

“This is your fault,” Gwen reminded Lock, storming past the couple again and grabbing his arm. “And this is your punishment.”

“But we haven’t showered or anything yet.”

“We’ll go to Bren’s hotel, book a room, and shower there. Hotel sex! And waffles. That sounds promising, doesn’t it?”

“But I need to fix the door—”

“Suck it up, MacRyrie.”

Bo pressed his forehead against Blayne’s, holding her tight. Blayne was counting the seconds before Gwen and Lock grabbed their shit and left—and she loved Gwenie because the feline was making that slow bear “Move, move, move!”—when Ric came down the hall.

“Lock? What happened to your door? Was it that Neanderthal?” He stopped when he saw Blayne and Bo still in the kitchen doorway. “Oh,” he said flatly. “The Neanderthal. And the Neanderthal’s woman.”

“Good, Ric,” Gwen said. “You’re here.” She grabbed the bags of food Ric had with him and dropped them to the floor.

“There are eggs in there!”

“That’s not your problem. Come on. We’re going out for breakfast.”

“I have enough food to even feed this cretin.”

“This may come as some surprise to you,” Bo said to Ric, his scowl terrifying if Blayne didn’t already know how safe she was with him. “But I do know what those words mean, you magniloquent prat.” And when Blayne’s head came up, Bo added, “And no, Blayne, I didn’t make that word up either.”

“You mean like that boda-chica word?”

“It’s Boadicea and I—why am I arguing this with you?” He glared at Ric. “You need to leave.”

“Like hell I—”

“We’re out!” Gwen said, shoving the wolf toward the door. “Blayne, call me when you’re done, there’s condoms in the top drawer of our dresser—”

“Jesus, Gwenie!” Lock barked, and Blayne didn’t know if he was disgusted or merely embarrassed.

“—don’t forget to change the sheets. Love you, sweetie!”

The trio argued all the way to the door, down the hallway, and into the elevator, but once they were gone, Blayne knew they were gone.

“Okay, fine.” Bo grinned. “I find Gwen an acceptable human being.”

“That’s so big of you.”

“I know.” He pulled Blayne off him, launched her up in the air—Blayne squealing the entire time—and when he easily caught her on her way down, tossed her over his shoulder. “Now we find those condoms.”

“Are you awake?”

Bo’s eyes opened wide and he stared up at the energetic and naked wolfdog straddling his chest.

“I am now,” he told her.

“Good.” She wiggled on his chest and Bo caught her hips to stop her from moving.

“What’s up, Blayne?”

“I’m bored.”

“Okay.” He pointed at the floor where he’d tossed the box of condoms after taking out a handful. “Get the rest of the condoms.”

“Orrrrrr . . .” she said, drawing out the word.

“Or what?” She grinned and he tried to turn away from her. “Forget it.”

“Please? Please!”

She wiggled again on his chest.

“Stop doing that.” She was making him hard and if she wasn’t in the mood that was simply irritating.

She leaned in, nuzzling his neck. “Please?” she begged.

“Fine. But we have to clean up first and I’ll need to fix that door.” He was pretty sure the grizzly didn’t consider shoving the door back into place technically fixing it since anyone could simply take it off again without tools.

“Okay! I’ll change the sheets!” She jumped off his chest and cartwheeled naked out of the room. When he heard panting, Bo raised himself up on his elbows and watched Blayne chase her tail.

“I’ve never seen anyone this excited about going to the gym.”

She shifted back to human, stumbling into the door from the dizziness. “You’ve got the Cup finals coming up and the Babes have the championship. And we will win. Because we rock!” She raised her arms into the air. “Woo-hoo!”

Bo threw his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, wincing from the scratches and bite marks he’d gotten from his mouthy little mate. “Just remember, you’re going to have to bury that nice shit if you want to win against the Texans.”

“Derby is not hockey. Derby girls are loyal and nice.”

“Loser talk,” he muttered, scratching his head, once again wishing he could cut his hair and have it stay short for longer than twenty-four hours.