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“Do you want me to drive home later?” she asked as I grabbed two punnets of nightberries. “So you can have some champagne?”

God, I freaking loved it when she called my place home. Grinning, I shook my head. “I’ll maybe have one glass to toast Beryl and Greid, but I won’t have any more after that. Got that big meeting with Lazurite tomorrow morning.”

We weren’t officially living together, but we spent most of our time at my place. It wasn’t my fault her bed was human-sized and not demiurgus-sized. I was always happy to stay there, but I did tend to cramp up after a night of trying my best not to take over the entire miniscule bed.

Every time we were at hers, I’d started casually suggesting she bring some of her stuff over the next time she came to my place—like more clothes or shoes, or her favourite mug or whatever—because it “just made sense” for her stuff to be there as my place was closer to the gym and her office. So. It did just make sense. It did.

I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to resist flat-out begging her to move in with me for much longer, though. I wanted her around all the time, which I’d never had before with a girlfriend. I’d never had that all-encompassing, desperate kind of need before. I wanted to be able to kiss her and talk to her and see her smile when I got home from the gym after work. I wanted to wake up and cuddle in bed for a little while before I got up to start the day, knowing I wouldn’t have to wait days before I got to see her again.

I wanted to see her clothes hanging beside mine in the closet, which was definitely not something I’d ever thought I’d long for. But Anita was as clean and tidy as I was, so surprisingly, the thought of another person’s stuff in my nesthouse didn’t stress me out. I wanted her stuff there. I even would’ve been willing to put up with it if Anita had been a total slob. I was just really, really glad she wasn’t.

We joined the short line to check out, and I absently gazed at Anita as she pulled her phone out of her pocket and tapped on the screen. It was hot as balls outside, so she was wearing a pair of light, tan linen pants and a sleeveless white shirt that showed off her slender, toned arms. The little curve of her defined bicep was ridiculously hot.

Over the last few months, she’d gotten into the habit of buying me frog-themed things whenever she came across them. I was currently dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with an angry toad wearing a pirate outfit on the front. If someone had told me a few months ago that I’d be seen out in public in a graphic tee, I would’ve burst out laughing. But I loved it, and Anita had bought it for me, so I wanted to make her happy.

She’d bought me other frog stuff too. Boxer briefs with little yellow-speckled glass frogs on them—which I also had on. A box of cookies printed with tiny green frogs from a Japanese food store. An ugly yet adorable-as-fuck clay ornament of a frog she’d found in a thrift store that looked like it had been made by someone who’d never actually seen a frog in real life. I loved it. It lived on my nightstand.

I tried to buy her stuff all the time, and she rarely let me. She wasn’t interested in jewellery, so that ruled that out. She didn’t care about clothes. She enjoyed food, so I took her to restaurants a lot—I struggled to deviate from my diet, but I had been having more cheat days than normal.

My usual gym, Terres Gym, had finally reopened a few weeks ago. I had managed to convince Anita to let me pay for her membership there, after I went on and on about how much nicer it was, and pointed out all the amenities they offered, including spa facilities. When I told her about the junior Olympic pool, she finally caved.

“Beryl said she and Greid should be leaving soon,” Anita told me, peering down at her phone. “Greid lost Jake’s leash, so they’re just looking for it.”

I waved a hand. “We’ve got plenty of time. We’re halfway there already.”

Anita and Beryl got on really well. If my relationship with Beryl had still been tense and tenuous, I would’ve said worryingly well. We’d hung out with Beryl and Greid a few times now, with us going to their house for dinner or them coming to my place. My relationship with Beryl had improved drastically after Greid and I cleared the air. Now, I was grateful she was so protective of my brother. I was too.

“So what’s your uncle like?” Anita asked, grinning at me as we shuffled forward when the line moved.

I’d told her plenty about Mom and Aunt Indi already. They were kind of big personalities. When we were in elementary school, Laki had told all our classmates that our mom and aunt were witches, and that Bax was our aunt’s cat familiar who took the form of a demiurgus while out in public. Then Laki got in trouble when some of the other kids started crying, thinking they were going to be cursed. Mainly because Laki told them our mom and aunt were going to curse them.

Mom had to have a meeting with the school and assure them that she and her sister weren’t practising dark magic at home in front of the children.

“Bax is great,” I told Anita. “Super chill and laid-back. Used to let us paint his shiny bald head when we were kids. He taught most of us how to drive as well. And he taught me and Tuvin how to cook. He’s a great cook.”

Anita gave me a tiny smile. “So did Tuvin used to cook with you, then? When your mum was working?”

She knew all about the difficult years we’d had as kids. I shook my head. “Nah. He started getting into it when he was around seventeen, eighteen. I only cared about the basics so I could feed everyone, but Bax is a passionate cook, so he taught Tuvin more of the complex stuff.”

“And now Tuvin’s a chef.” She smiled at me. “Your uncle must be proud.”

“Oh yeah, super proud. He’s proud of all of us, though.” I huffed in amusement. “Tells us all the time. He’s more sentimental than Aunt Indi.”

There was a lull in the conversation as we reached the checkout and I paid for the champagne. As we were stepping outside into bright afternoon sunlight, Anita asked, “So your mum’s never dated since your dad left?”

I shook my head, fishing my keys out of my pocket and pressing the button to open the trunk of my car. “Nope.”

“But she doesn’t miss him, right?” Anita knew all about our shitty absent father.

“No.” We reached the car and started loading the champagne bottles into the trunk. “She’s said before she’s just not interested, that she’s happy and doesn’t get lonely. I believe her. She knows none of us would care if she started dating, so it’s not like she’s worried about how we’d react.”

Anita nodded, stepping back as I shut the trunk. “Fair enough. I’ll take the cart back.”

“I’ll do it.” I immediately lunged for it. “You get in the car. It’s hot.”

She grinned up at me. “You’re closer to the sun than I am. You should get in the car.”

I couldn’t argue with her logic, so instead I just grabbed the cart’s handles and ran for the nearby cart corral. By the time I got back to the car, Anita was in the passenger seat and fiddling with the air conditioning.