“You’re really drunk, aren’t you?” Normally drunk Carrero amuses me, but there’s something off, and I’m aware of every thump of my heartbeat and shallow breathing. The weird tension makes me stiffen, and my body can sense the difference between us.

“I am!” he breathes, but he makes no effort to move away. I don’t recognize this Jake, the heaviness of his voice, the facial expression, the body language, and the darkness of his usually clear green eyes. These eyes most ...