Green. Everywhere. The party was an explosion of shamrocks, glitter, and the questionable decision to dye the punch a neon shade of green. Oliver, of course, was thriving.

I watched as he adjusted the ridiculous leprechaun hat perched on his head, flashing me a grin. "Admit it, you’re impressed by my dedication."

I snorted. "I’m impressed you haven’t tripped over your own feet yet."

He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "Wow. No faith in me at all. And after all we’ve been through?"

Rolling my eyes, I reached over and straightened the clover-shaped sunglasses slipping down his nose. "Better."

"Better?" He scoffed. "I look amazing. A true St. Paddy’s Day icon."

"More like a walking party store ad," I teased.

"Which," he said, wiggling his brows, "is exactly the vibe I was going for."

The music shifted, and before I could react, he grabbed my hands, dragging me into some terrible excuse for an Irish jig.

"Oliver—" I laughed as he spun me.

"Shh, just go with it!" He twirled me again, only to misstep and send us both crashing onto the couch in a heap of green decorations.