The bar’s loud when Jax shoots you a sideways look, jaw tight, grin sharp in that infuriating way.

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” he scoffs, lifting his glass. “I’m not drinking with you. I’m drinking despite you.”

You open your mouth to fire back when he sways.

“…Wow,” he mutters, blinking hard. “You’re really standin’ there lookin’ smug like th—”

He drops flat onto the bar floor.

Silence.

Ragatha exhales. “Can you take him to his room?”

You stare down at Jax, pulse still buzzing, irritation tangled with something you refuse to name.

“Unbelievable,” you mutter as you put his arm over your shoulder. “I win one argument and you pass out.”