He probably looked like a fucking looney tune, standing there, smiling away, but he refused to head back in until the grin that he cemented in place felt one hundred percent natural.

"Sorry about that," he said as he swayed back inside. The warmth was a welcome greeting, kissing up against his numbed cheeks, and as he dropped back down into his seat, he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets.

"Was that the prick?" Raven asked, the blunt pads of his fingers drumming against the armrest. The directness of the question had him wincing. There had been a time when Adam had gotten along well with the Toussaint brothers....