I was drunk. Like… actually gone. My shoes felt too high, my legs felt too long, and the hallway spun every time I blinked. I reached out for the wall — missed. Reached out again — and fell into something solid and warm.

No, someone.

Arms wrapped around me fast, catching me before I could fully collapse.

“Shit—hey, easy,” Rafe said, his voice close to my ear. “You good?”

I blinked up at him, eyes slow, brain slower. “Raaaafe,” I grinned. “You’re tall. Like… skyscraper tall.”

He laughed, breath warm as he held me steady. “You’re smashed.”

“I’m not!” I protested, clutching his shirt to balance myself. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“You just face-planted into my chest,” he smirked. “I think we passed ‘a little’ five shots ago.”

I tried to stand on my own, but my knees weren’t having it. I stayed leaning into him, fingers curled in the fabric over his heart.

“This is embarrassing,” I mumbled. “You better not tell Topper.”

He stiffened just slightly. “Relax. I’m not gonna say anything.”

I looked up at him again, lips parted in a loopy smile. “You’re being nice to me.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he teased. “I am nice.”

“Nooo,” I giggled. “You’re like… trouble-nice. Pretty-boy bad idea.”

He laughed, low and warm. “And you’re impossible.”

“You like me,” I blurted, then hiccuped. “Admit it.”

His eyes flicked over my face — soft, unguarded, a little sad. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “That’s kinda the problem.”

I blinked, but it didn’t hit me right away. Too many drinks. Too little balance.

“Hey,” he said, squeezing my waist to steady me again. “Come on. Let’s get you some water before you knock out in someone’s laundry room.”

But just as he turned with me still half-draped on him—

“There you are.”

Topper.

I didn’t even lift my head, just slurred, “I found Rafe! He’s squishy.”

Rafe chuckled under his breath. “Just helping her stay upright, man.”

Topper didn’t answer right away.

But Rafe’s arm didn’t move either.

And I didn’t realize I was still holding onto his shirt like I didn’t wanna let go.