not Banshee. I should have trusted him and not argued with him about the wording, maybe, but I was glad I had. It seemed wrong to just capitulate without any negotiation.
Instead of telling him any of that, I answered as simply as I could.
“Jeans and boots, no problem. Silver belt and silver earrings, also no problem. Let’s go up and look through my shirts after breakfast. I’ll try a few on and see if they work for you. Same with the silver necklaces — I have several that will work.”
“Thank you.”
“Why am I being thanked?”
He shrugged. “For not fighting me on this?”
“Then you’re welcome, but I don’t have a problem with giving you input on what I wear around your friends. So long as you let me express my personality, and take into account clothing I’ll be comfortable in — socially and physically — then I don’t think we’re going to have a problem.”
Gil and the kids were spending New Year’s Eve with the Pack, which helped. I’d have wanted to be with them if they spent it at home, but I had no interest in spending the evening on Pack lands. My cat had never been comfortable there. They’d welcomed me, it wasn’t that that they were hostile, it’s just that the cat hadn’t been able to relax around all those wolves.
So, when I walked into the clubhouse on Frost’s arm, wearing low-slung black jeans and a tiny little black shirt that covered my boobs and shoulders and not much else, with a cool silver chain used as a belt, a clunky silver necklace that came to a V to help show off my cleavage, and silver earrings in the shape of old-west pistols. It was part biker-chic and part artist-wear, and I couldn’t have told you which part was which, but it worked. Okay, the heavy black riding boots were all biker wear, but everything else could’ve gone either way.
Frost’s people had come through the fire and come out the other side. They’d lost people, and now they were strong again. They would always live with that loss, but life goes on. I felt, several times, that many of them were using this night as a way to help put that past behind them and move forward. The new clubhouse helped — I could see a huge difference in the attitude, now that they were in a stronghold they’d made, and not in a temporary clubhouse.
The live band was on the stage, and I spent a good portion of the night dancing with the other ol’ladies. A few of Frost’s brothers danced, but most of them sat and watched.
I was back at the bar with Velvet, Tess, and Ember, doing shots and watching the prospects dance. They’d all been ordered to, and a few were having fun with it, but several clearly did not want to be dancing.
I turned and looked at the other ol’ladies, and wondered, again, if Frost was going to give me a vest. I was the only one without one, and it was kind of obvious when the four of us were around. I knew enough about the protocol around it to know it wouldn’t be good for me to ask him, though. It would be tantamount to demanding an engagement ring.
No, the vest meant he was claiming me to his family, and that wasn’t something I could ask for. It had to be something he wanted to do.
Ten minutes later, at eleven thirty, the music stopped and I heard Frost’s voice, booming out across the room. He didn’t need a microphone.
“What a difference a year makes, right? This time last year, ya’ll were two months out from losing so many of us, living in apartments, making do in a temporary clubhouse, and scrambling to keep those of us alive safe on a daily basis. This time last year, I was in jail, scrambling to keep myself and those I was tasked to protect inside as safe as possible.” He looked to Mad Dog. “Ya’ll did what you could to help with that, and I’ll be forever grateful for every bit of it.”
“It’s what we do, brother.”
He nodded. “I know. We’re always there for each other. Always.”
He looked across the room to me. “Cheyenne, can you come up here, please?”
The room was silent while I walked to him, bodies moving out of my way, creating a path. Walking through them had been so hard earlier, and now it was easy.