Later, Scott paid the bill, and we walked out of the restaurant. I leaned my weight on Scott, trying to steady myself, but he was just as unsteady as I was, both of us warm with too many shots and too many feelings. 

Ace giggled behind us. “I swear, you two walk like newborn giraffes,” he slurred. 

Scott shot him a look over his shoulder. “I’m walking perfectly fine.” 

“You’re floating!” Ace pointed out. “Your feet aren’t even touching the floor.” 

Scott blinked ...