Well, I had more fun in that bathroom, to be honest, but this is also fine.
“Yeah!” I squeal.
That didn’t sound very convincing.
“Tell me when you want to go.”
Wow, okay. The commanding Kasien. I like that. I can’t hold a giggle and he laughs back.
“Hey. What’s so funny?” I ask, kind of offended.
God forbid a girl enjoys some jello shots from time to time.
“The sound you make. I like it.”
What sound? I look around, appreciating the beautiful hydrangeas when my stomach rolls over.
Okay. I need to go home.
“I’m gonna—I’m gonna go,” I mumble, finishing the water and heading toward the pool house to find my shoes.
“I’m taking you,” he tells me.
“My shoes.”
“Got them.”
I turn around, my strap heels dangling on his finger. His other hand finds mine and laces our fingers, leading me out of the garden and away from the noise.
“Stop giggling,” he murmurs, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“I’m not giggling,” I say and giggle.
“There. That.” He laughs.
I roll my eyes dramatically, but then my mind focuses on how soft the grass is under my bare feet.
“Wow,” I mumble and slow down.
“What now?” That cocky voice again.
“Your grass is really soft.”
He breaks into laughter. Okay, that sounded weird.
We walk a few more steps—well, he walks, I wobble—until the grass ends at the gravel driveway.
“Oh no,” I breathe out innocently, but before I even register the sting, he moves.
“Arm,” he says and takes my hand, lifts it, and places my arm around his neck. My fingers curl against the warm skin there before I can stop them. Then he slides an arm under my knees and lifts me up.
“Show-off,” I mutter into his shoulder.
He snorts. “You’re the dramatic one.”
His chest is firm and warm under my hands and my head spins for reasons that have nothing to do with alcohol.
I feel safe.
