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“I’m sorry. I feel like I ruined your night,” he says gloomily.

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong,” I reassure him. “And my night is not ruined.”

“I’m sorry he called you that.”

“You need to stop apologizing for things that aren’t your fault.”

“I provoked him,” he says, sounding miserable. “It’s what I am good at.”

I shake my head. “He provoked you. You calmly told him to leave a few times.”

“I’m not … I don’t want you to think I’m a violent person. It’s not me. I don’t want you to think that,” he says solemnly, the words coming out of his mouth in a jumble.

“I know. I don’t think you are.” I trace my fingers up and down his back in a soothing motion.

“I just don’t want you to worry. To think that I could ever––like I would never hurt you, Robin.” His voice is thick with emotion.

“Jesus,” I say, my voice uneven. I slightly twist in his lap to face him better, then take his head in both of my hands. “I don’t think that at all. I know you would never hurt me. I’m not worried about that. Like at all.”

He relaxes slightly and lets out a long shaky breath.

“Also, not to sound like a cliché,” I say, trying to lighten the mood, “but it was kinda hot that you punched him to defend my honor.”

He chuckles, and I see the relief in his eyes. “He deserved it.”

I trace his jawline before I lean in to kiss him. His grip tightens around me, and we share a few languid kisses before we break apart.

“You called me your girlfriend,” I say, biting my lip and staring up at him.

“Is that okay?” He sounds worried. “Or is that not what you want?”

“No, it’s not that. I was surprised, or, I guess, I wasn’t sure if you meant it. We never talk about any of that stuff.”

He nods. “I’m sorry that I never talked to you about it or mentioned what I wanted. But I don’t like casual, nor has anything with you ever felt casual. So yeah, I’ve been thinking of you as my girlfriend. At least, I really fucking want you to be.”

My heart skips a beat. “Yes, I want that too,” I breathe out, a lump forming in my throat. “But you’re going back home soon.”

He visibly swallows. “We’ll figure something out. I promise, okay?”

I take a deep breath and then nod.

“You’re mine, baby. I’m not letting you go, and I mean it.”

And I know he does. I see it in the way he looks at me. The way he’s been touching me all night. The way he’s been taking care of me the last few weeks.

“Alright, boyfriend,” I say, and his eyes sparkle at that. “Are you ready for your duet?”

I’m giddy.

I’m also extremely drunk. I’m not sure I’ve ever been this drunk before.

When we rejoined the others, we decided to make the most of the rest of our night. Hayden apologized to Mike for the fight, but his friend just waved him off.

“I’d also punch someone if they called my girl that,” he said, and that was the end of it.

With the fight in the past and the adrenaline out of our system, the rest of the night feels like a fever dream. The energy in the bar is high, with sweaty bodies moving all around us.

I feel weightless. The shots that Kora keeps pushing on me are making me giggle uncontrollably.