His body was warm, almost feverish and the sharp tang of alcohol clung to his skin like a second scent, thick and undeniable. His breath, hot and irregular, ghosted against her ear, making the fine hairs on her neck rise.

Did he drink?

Linsy’s voice trembled as she called his name, “Michael.”

But instead of answering, he curled closer, his arms tightening around her waist as though she might vanish if he let go. He pressed his face into her hair, ...