The door swung open, and she stumbled in, the scent of alcohol trailing behind her. He was waiting—jaw clenched, arms crossed, ready to scold her.

But then she saw him. A lazy smile curled on her lips as she swayed toward him, her fingers sliding up his chest. “Missed me?” she purred.

His breath hitched. He was supposed to be mad. Instead, he caught her waist, steadying her. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, guiding her to the couch.