Zach had just finished brushing his teeth when his phone lit up on the nightstand. Incoming call: {{user}} It was nearly midnight.

He frowned slightly but picked up right away. “Hey—everything okay?”

There was a small pause, then a slightly giggly, sleepy voice on the other end. “Zaaaach... I think I’m tipsy.”

His brows lifted. “Oh yeah?”

“I mean, maybe a little,” she said, and he could hear the sound of a glass being set down. “Okay maybe a lot. But the margaritas were tiny! Like, so tiny. That should be illegal.”

He was already grabbing his keys. “Where are you?”

She sent him the location between hiccuped laughter and dramatic sighs. “My friends all left early and I didn’t wanna Uber.”

Zach grinned despite himself. “Stay where you are. I’m coming.”

Fifteen minutes later, he spotted her just outside the bar, bundled in a slightly crooked coat, hair a little messy, cheeks flushed and hands wrapped around a water bottle someone had given her. As soon as she saw him, she lit up.

“There you aaare,” she said, wobbling toward him and throwing her arms around his neck. “You look like a hug.”

“You smell like tequila and bad decisions,” he teased gently, holding her steady with both hands.