“Just relaxing,” I said, watching Travis kiss his wife and then lift her into his arms, waving goodbye. I grabbed my camera and captured that moment, happy for them and me, that I could finally put away my camera and mean it.

It wasn’t long before Camille and Trenton, Taylor and Falyn, and Tyler and I were the last of the wedding guests left. The parents had turned in early, and Thomas and Liis seemed to be fighting.

I sat at the table, holding ice on my neck with one hand and a new drink in the other. Trenton and Taylor were twirling to the music with their dates, joking and giggling. The flaps on the outside restaurant that had been unrolled to keep out the rain were flapping in the breeze. I lifted my head, letting the air roll over my damp skin and the liquor sink in.

Tyler brushed a few wet strands of hair from my forehead. “You okay?”

“I’m good,” I crooned, keeping my eyes closed. It wasn’t often that I could get drunk anymore. “I want to swim in the ocean.”

He lit a cigarette, but before he could blow out, I grabbed his cheeks and inhaled, filling my lungs with his smoke. I sat back, exhaling into the thick air.

He perched his elbow on the table and cupped his chin with his hand, shaking his head. “You make it so fucking hard to do the right thing.”

“Take me swimming,” I said, biting my lip.

“What about tomorrow?” he asked. “It’s been a long day. Not sure if swimming at night in a storm is the best idea when we’re drunk and tired.”

“Whatever,” I said, leaning back and closing my eyes again. Air cooled by the rain caressed my skin, and the heaviness from the vodka was comforting. I reached out for Tyler, blindly finding his arm.

“What are you doing?” he asked, amused.

“Just making sure you’re still there.”

“I’m here. For as long as you’ll let me.”

My lids popped open, and I let my head fall forward, looking at him with sleepy, dry eyes. “I want to make a pallet on our floor and lie with you naked.”

“That sounds like a dirty trick,” he said, grinning.

I lifted my hand to the waiter, signaling for another drink. He glanced to Tyler, who I could see shaking his head from the corner of my eye.

“Hey,” I said in a moment of clarity.

“Ellie … you’re drunk. You’re on like your tenth drink … not including the shit you’ve drank all day. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Better me than someone else.”

He frowned. “Wow. Are we at the pity stage of the night? Or is that you being a bitter drunk?”