Page 616 of The Bonding Games: Part 1

And then we’re all quarrelling again.

“Wait . . .” I mutter halfway through my very good point about bow ties. “I changed my mind. How’s Havoc meant to drag me closer by my bow tie? It’ll have to be a regular one.”

“Noooooo!” Tiger cries, grabbing the sides of his face as if this is the end of the world, the large bag of all his items in his right hand smacking him in the chest as he does. “We’ve lost a vote! Bestie, back me up!”

“Uhhh . . .” Alby squeaks.

“The reasons are simply too good, so he can’t get them out!” Tiger insists vehemently, snatching up one of the bow ties from the gold accessories area we’ve been in for what feels like hours at this point, and he waves it all over the place for emphasis.

“I don’t know,” Scotty mutters, looking unusually serious about this. But I guess we’re all treating this like it’s life or death—gotta impress our girl, after all. “I feel like Ezla might prefer ties.”

“Scottyyyyyy! You’re meant to be on my side—”

“What.” We all go rigid. “Are you doing?” that robotically modified, sexy-as-all-hells voice finishes.

Tiger peeks over his shoulder cautiously.

Then flashes a lazy smile.

“Ezzy! My future wife!” He turns towards her fully, bow tie in one hand, bag containing his dress shoes, grey suit, and white button-up shirt in the other. “We can’t decide on the normal tie or the bow tie.”

“And you did not think it would be wise to choose whichever each of you prefers individually?”

We all blink at her.

Scotty flushes red and brings a hand up to cup the back of his neck awkwardly. “Ah . . . no, Love. We didn’t.”

Cooper clears his throat, clearly just as embarrassed.

I, for one, am not. We need to look our best for our Bonded. The debate was necessary.

“Would you not prefer us matching?” I grunt, folding my arms across my chest.

“I do not particularly care as long as it is gold. Any minor differences help show your character.”

“Oh . . . well, in that case,” Scotty begins, shifting his attention to us for a moment, “grab whatever one you want, then we’re on to cufflinks, if you guys want them?” We all dip our chins in agreement, and he continues, “Okay, good. Ezla? You already done?”

“Yes. And I have paid.”

Appalled gasps sound from us all.

“You paid?!” Tiger cries, a hand to his chest as though he might have a heart attack from the sheer horror of it.

I might do, too.

“You paid for your own things when we’re right here?” I rumble, hands clenching into fists.

Scotty frowns. “Love, I know you’re like . . . extremely well-off, but we’re men, if you haven’t noticed—your men. And I’d like to buy you things. Especially in situations like this.”

“I do not even use my father’s money, but I have so many credits from The Bonding Games with my high Score and top performance, as well as the audience’s love for me, that I would be able to live extremely comfortably for thousands of years to come if I could remain alive that long,” Ezla informs us, deadpan.

Cooper’s brows scrunch lower than Scotty’s. “Okay, first of all, bloody hell. But second, that is so not the point. We still want to pay for your things. Besides, we’ve all got a fat chunk of credits ourselves right now—it’s not like this shop’s stuff would make a huge dent in that, even though it is all ridiculously expensive.”

“What is the point when I have more?”

He drags a hand down his face. “It’s just . . . Ugh. Scotty, please explain.”

“It shows our respect—that we want to take care of you and provide for you,” he tells Havoc.