“And don’t get drunk beforehand.”
“Helpful.” He shakes his head. “Especially when there are rakes lurking in the wild.”
Callie’s eyes fly wide. “What?”
I smirk. “Drew stepped on a rake. That’s the reason for this.” I gesture to his mark on his forehead.
Callie doubles over, wheezing.
I shake my head while Drew takes a drink.
When she gets herself under control, she says, “What a night. First, there’s a screaming squirrel outside. Then?—”
“It wasn’t a squirrel.” Drew’s face turns red.
Her eyes widen. “Oh my God. That was you?”
Drew glares at her. “I don’t scream like a squirrel. It was a startled gasp.”
Callie’s wheezing.
“It was a death shriek.”
I take the glass from him before he can spill it during another argument. “
I give Callie a look.
She lifts both hands. “Leaving. I’m leaving.” She backs away, still smiling. “But for the record, I approve.”
“Of what?” he demands.
Callie disappears down the hall without answering.
The air shifts again.
His gaze drops toward the doorway where Callie disappeared. “I didn’t mean to scare her.”
“She had a tennis racket. She was fine.” I grin. “She knows how to use it.”
I pat his chest once, then step back. “You should eat something before the whiskey wins.”
“The whiskey already won.”
I raise my brows. “You sure about that?”
He stands, a little unsteady, and I put a hand on his arm. He looks down at the contact, then at me.
I guide him toward the door. “Come on, worst stalker ever.”
He groans. “Please don’t call me that.”
“Would you prefer squirrel?”
“No.”
“Rake victim?”
“Violet.”
