“Awesome?” he drawled, pulling his hand back.

I opened my eyes and grinned. He was sitting next to me, his long legs stretched out in front of him with his back pressed to the couch. We were only a couple of inches apart, and I didn’t remember how I ended up lying on the floor, but I do know that he’d gotten down there with me immediately.

“Calla?”

“Hmm?” My eyes had closed on their own, so I opened them again. He reached over, tapping my knee with his fingers, and I giggled. “I’m a lightweight, aren’t I?”

His smile spread. “Since this is the first time you’ve ever been drunk, I’m gonna say four shots is pretty damn good.”

“Tequila is like a long-lost, not so annoying friend.” I squeezed the bottle in my arms, pressing it against my chest. “I really like tequila.”

“We’ll see how you feel in the morning. Why don’t you hand over the bottle?”

A frown pulled at my mouth. “But I like it. You can’t take that from me.”

Jax leaned forward, chuckling. “I’m not going to hurt the bottle, Calla.”

“Maybe I want another shot.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

I tried to pull off a pissy look, but I think all I ended up doing was crossing my eyes. Sighing loudly, I eased up on my bottle death hold.

He gently pried the bottle out of my grasp and placed it on the coffee table, just out of my reach. I immediately missed the golden bottle of happiness, and I thought I should sit up and retrieve it, but again, effort. When his gaze settled back on me, his grin made me feel funny in my chest and in my tummy.

And in lots of other places that made me giggle.

“So back to the things you haven’t done.” He leaned back against the couch, obviously not feeling as good as I was. We’d gone over most of what I hadn’t done in my twenty-one years of life, a staggering list of embarrassing material, but I didn’t care. I liked how he grinned each time I’d told him what I hadn’t done and how this look would creep into his striking face, like he was coming up with something clever. “Never felt sand on your toes?” he added.

I shook my head. I thought I did. “I have plans. My plans don’t involve those things.”

“What are your plans?”

“They’re the Three F’s.”

His brows rose. “Three F’s?”

“Yep!” I shouted and then I said much lower and in a much more serious voice. “Finish college. Find a career in the nursing field. Aaannnd finally reap the benefits of following through on something.” I paused, curling my upper lip. “Though I’m not sure on the following through part. I kind of follow through on most things, but there’s not a lot of things that start with the letter F that would involve planning, so . . .”

He grinned. “So that’s it? Your big plans are basically finish college and find a job?”