“You seem happy right now, Nikki,” Callum says, his voice a hair louder than the crash of the waves in front of us.

A bout of alcohol-induced dizziness hits, and I lean into him, resting my head on his shoulder. We fit perfectly in bed, when dancing, when cuddled on the couch, when we’re standing side by side.

“That’s because I am. This moment is just . . .” I trail off, unable to find the right word.

This moment, this night, it is everything. I didn’t know how much I missed going out, socializing, dancing, feeling like a normal twenty-nine-year-old woman.

I close my eyes, enjoying the light buzz running through me. I grip his arm tighter. “Sorry for how tipsy I am. It’s been a while since I’ve drunk this much of the hard stuff.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’m having a nice time.”

I shift, pressing my ear against his chest. The shallow breath he takes hits softly against my cheek.

“Spending time with you is my favorite thing to do, Callum. You are my favorite.”

The words just slip out. It sounds almost like relationship talk, and that’s a no-no for us.

“Is that so?” he asks.

I tilt my head up to get a better look at him. My eyes are finally starting to adjust to the dark. Judging by the upward curve of his mouth, he isn’t offended at all by my slipup.

The dizziness eases, making way for that drunken giddiness that eventually accompanies my buzz. “This is so, so nice. Standing here with you. I haven’t done this in forever. You know it’s been almost two years since I’ve gone out dancing?”

“You did mention that.”

“Oh, right.”

He chuckles.

I can’t seem to stop babbling. “I’m glad I did. I’m glad you made us come out tonight. It feels so . . . so . . .”

“Freeing? Good?”

“More than good. Incredible.” Loosening my hold, I run a hand up and down his arm. He lets out the softest moan. “You feel incredible, too, you know that?”

I glance up at him, my eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. He peers down at me.

“I just . . . everything about you,” I say. “Being with you is like being home. You feel like home to me. No one has ever made me feel that way. No guy, at least. Well, except for my dad.”

Did I really just say Callum felt like home? Did I really just compare him to my dad? I’ve lost all control over my mouth and my words. What am I even saying anymore?

The dizziness is back, and I clutch tighter to him. I close my eyes, hoping the spinning doesn’t start. If that happens, that means I’ve left pleasantly drunk territory and will definitely start vomiting.