And I’m carrying her home. Not that random guy from earlier.
“Always.” I squeeze her leg.
We duck into the catering building. I grab one of the reusable bottles that Alexis keeps filled.
“Water is boring, Tristan.”
“Quiet in the peanut gallery.”
“We should get champagne.”
I let her slide down. She sways briefly on her feet. Her eyes are hazy and her smile is permanent. She’s practically glowing, even under the harsh overhead lighting.
“Who are you and what have you done with Katie?”
“I’m fun now,” she whispers, like she’s telling me a secret, like this side of her is just for me. “So we should get champagne.” She grins. “Steal champagne,” she amends. “Come on, Tristan, please.”
I raise a brow, feeling like I’m already full of champagne. Champagne in my blood and rushing through my head. Making me want to do her bidding, to extend this night forever.
“Stealing from myself? You dirty little freak.”
She laughs, a breathless, full-belly sound that makes her lean weakly against the counter. I take the champagne in hopes that I’ll hear it again tonight.
We stumble along the path. Me, because I’m trying to keep her upright, her because she’s hammered.
“One glass,” I say, when we finally land in the grass.
“Two.” She spreads her arms wide and gazes up at the sky. “Look at this,” she breathes.
I lie next to her, head on the lush lawn. It’s slightly damp and thick enough to cradle us. Above is just dark sky and diamond-bright stars. No clouds. No buildings in our periphery.
Katie Bailey and me at the end of the world.
Without meaning to, my hand finds hers.
“What am I looking for?”
“Meteor shower,” she whispers, nearly reverent.
I want to tease her, but something in her tone makes me stop. “Is this why you cut the date off early tonight?”
“Just serendipity. Now close your eyes.” She reaches over, presumably to help me close them, but her drunken aim is terrible, and she pokes me in the cheek.
I bat her hand away.
“Tristan,” she hisses. “You’ll see better if you leave them closed for a full minute. I know that must seem impossible to you.”
I chuckle, because I don’t meditate or relax. Hell, I barely sleep. And she knows. I close my eyes and squeeze her fingers. She squeezes back.
I thought one minute would feel like forever, but it’s not nearly long enough when her hand is in mine.
“Open.”
We suck in air at the same time. Those pinpricks of light are somehow glowing. The Milky Way is an endless, colorful carpet twisting across the sky.
“Told you,” she whispers.
A meteor flickers, its tail a line of cold fire through the night.
