Nancy’s POV

I rush over to Carter and pull him into the kitchen where there are fewer people. His white dress shirt is wrinkled but tucked into his nicest pair of jeans, and it looks like he even tried to clean his sneakers up a bit. His hair looks like it was combed back, but he must’ve run his fingers through it a few times because now it’s disheveled.

“Are you drunk?” I hiss at Carter.

I know it’s a dumb thing to ask; he’s clearly ...