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He lets me go, although his hand lingers at my waist for a fraction of a second. I notice. Of course I notice.

I’m apparently drunk enough to summon a naked man from a gargoyle, but not so drunk that I can’t appreciate a very attractive one.

“Okay.” I hold up both hands. “Okay. Okay.”

He watches me.

I pace three steps to the left. Turn. Pace three steps to the right. Stop.

“Did I die? Is that what happened? Like I fell to my death?”

Gabriel blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Did I fall off the balcony and die? Because that would explain a lot.”

“You did not fall.”

“Are you sure?”

“I caught you.”

“Right. Because you were a gargoyle.”

“Yes.”

“And now you’re a man.”

“Also yes.”

“And you’re naked.”

He closes his eyes. “Must we keep revisiting that particular detail?”

I point at him.

“Don’t get snippy with me, mister. You’re the one who turned into a naked man on my balcony.”

“After you spent several minutes rubbing all over me.”

My mouth falls open.

He looks almost smug. Almost.

“That is not—” I stop. Because technically, that is exactly what happened. “Oh my God.”

“Indeed.”

I look at my hands. Then at him. Then at my hands again.

“I rubbed a gargoyle and got a naked man.”

His mouth twitches again.

“Apparently.”

I press my palms against my cheeks.

“They should really put that in the tourist brochures.”