I wrapped a towel around me. “That’s so not true.”

“And you’re such a shit liar. Tell me there’ll be no drinking.”

“There’ll be a little drinking.” I’d learned that I could still get drunk providing I fed from an inebriated vampire, which was usually Paige.

“We both know that you’ll get shitfaced and I’ll end up having to come for you.”

I huffed. “You’re wrong.”

(Butch)

For some reason, whenever I found the girls drunk, it was almost always the same: they’d all kicked their heels off, they were all convinced they weren’t drunk, and they were all acting weird.

One would be dancing on her own, one would be eating, one would be asleep, one would be laughing for the sake of laughing, one would be cursing her ex, one would be crying about nothing while others comforted her, and one would be sprawled on the floor, singing to herself totally off-key.

Tonight was no exception.

Salem and Chico appeared at Fletcher’s apartment just as I arrived. A singing Ava was so plastered that her mate had to carry her home by a fistful of her shirt. Chico just threw a struggling Jude over his shoulder while she threatened him with dismemberment.

Lifting my chin at Fletcher and Norm, who were snuggling on the sofa, I crouched beside Imani. How she’d fallen asleep on the coffee table, I didn’t know, but my girl could sleep anywhere. “Wake up, baby.” Taking her hand, I traced her Binding knot. “Come on, open those pretty eyes for me.”

Her lids slowly flickered open, and she gave me a dazzling smile that hit me right in the chest. “Hey, whatcha doin’ here?”

“Why do you think I’m here, baby? I’ve come to get you.” Just like I’d known I’d have to. She was lucky she was cute when she was hammered.

“Wanna know a secret?” She lowered her voice. “I like that you call me ‘baby.’”

I smiled. “Yeah?”

“Totally yeah.”

“Good. Ready to come home?”

She pouted. “S’early.”

It was actually way past dawn. “Time to go.” I scooped her up. “Say goodnight to everyone.” She did, though she was still pouting. I carried her home in vampire speed, lay her on the bed, and gently began to strip her.

Without even opening her eyes, she said, “Dude, you’re seriously hot. You know that, right?”

I chuckled. “You might have said it once or twice before.”

Her eyes fluttered open. “You make me happy. You know that too, right? Like, super-duper happy.”

I had to smile. “Yeah, I know.” I still had no idea how I was doing it, though. “And you make me happy, so all is good.” I pulled the covers over her. “You need sleep.”

“But the night is young.” Her nose wrinkled. “I’m hungry. Let’s make beef noodles.”

I might have said yes if she wasn’t half-asleep. “Okay, baby, I’ll do that.”

“You’re the shit, Richardson. The shit.” Then she passed out. She was gonna have a bitch of a headache at dusk. “It’s a good thing I love you, Imani Prince. More than anything.”

EPILOGUE

(Jared)

Keeping my arm tight around a swaying Sam to support her weight as we neared our home, I said, “Maybe you should pass on movie night things in future.” It was always the same: she got smashed, lost track of time—or simply didn’t give a shit what time it was—and I was forced to go find her.

Her aquamarine eyes narrowed and cut to me. “They’re not movie night things.”

“Well they’re not movie nights.” They were excuses to get blind drunk without mates and boyfriends hovering around. “Our squad agrees.”

She almost tripped over nothing. Quickly righting herself, the picture of dignity, she cleared her throat. “I’m all right.”

I sighed. When I’d reached Fletcher’s apartment and saw the drunken state she was in, I’d offered to carry her but she’d point blank refused. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. She was as stubborn when she was hammered as she was when she was sober. “Let me just carry you, it’ll be easier.”

She straightened, affronted. “I got this.” But she didn’t have it at all.

I sighed again. “You’re going to fall, and it’ll be your own fault for drinking alcohol like it’s going out of fashion.”

“I’m not rat-arsed. Just a bit on the tipsy side.”

I snorted. “Sure, baby.”

She stumbled again. Throwing out one arm, she declared, “Seriously, I’m all right.”

It would be annoying if it wasn’t so amusing. I guided her up the wooden steps to the wrap around porch of our beach house. “Let’s just get you inside.” I’d planned to put her to bed and strip her, but she shed her clothes one item at a time as she unsteadily made her way to the bedroom.

Sinking into the mattress, totally and deliciously naked, she lifted a brow. “You’re not naked. Why are you not naked?”

Slipping off my jacket, I took a moment to drink her in. I knew every inch of that body, knew every sensitive zone and every ticklish spot. Sam might say she wasn’t ticklish, but she was talking shit. The truth was that she just didn’t relax and let her guard down that much for many people.

She examined her Binding knot. “Have you noticed how often Butch traces Imani’s knot, as if reminding himself that it’s there? It’s sort of sweet. I didn’t think he had it in him.”

I smiled down at her. “You’re taking credit for him going after Imani, aren’t you?”

She blinked, the image of innocence even when she was decadently spread out before me. “Why would I do that?”

“Maybe because you urged Marla to proposition him the night Imani split up with Dean.” My tone dared her to deny it.

She exhaled heavily. “I wanted him to see just how much it was Imani that he wanted. And it worked, didn’t it? He did us all proud and bucked the fuck up.”

I crawled on the bed, leaning over her and bracing my hands either side of her head. “It was nice of Dean to leave The Hollow. Or, should I say, it was nice of you to kick him out.”