Isabella’s POV

Ethan didn’t move as I gripped his hand to pull myself closer. And he held himself deathly still as I leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“You’re drunk,” Ethan said roughly.

“I’m not drunk,” I insisted before pressing another kiss to his lips as if that action could somehow convince him of the truth of my words.

His other hand snapped out to cup the back of my neck, holding me still when I attempted to kiss him ...