Morgan’s finger rose slowly, pointing at Sam. “You, of all people, called a boy to get me off a bar?”

“Man,” I corrected.

Sam rolled her eyes. “This is not the same.”

“Traitor. At least you had Will to blame for calling Jagger and Grayson on you.”

Holy shit, she’d dropped his name in a casual conversation. Was that progress or alcohol talking?

Morgan reached for the rest of her martini, but I beat her to it.

“And that’s enough of that.” I gave the glass back to the bartender.

“For the love of God, could y’all untwist your panties? I can have a drink. I’m legal and everything. Wanna see my ID?”

“You’re also mixing alcohol with your meds,” I said quietly, leaning down so only she could hear me. “One amplifies the other. It’s why you feel so drunk.”

“Darlin’, maybe I should have done this a long time ago,” she retorted, turning her face so our lips were an inch apart, if that. “It’s a miraculous painkiller.”

“It’ll hurt plenty in the morning,” I promised.

“What would you care? No doubt you’ll be cuddled up with your ex.” She arched a brow at me and leaned in but lost her balance.

Enough.

“Morgan, I’m not with Claire. She showed up the same night we went to the lighthouse. I had no clue she was coming, and I meant it when I said that it changes nothing between us because I. Want. You.” I steadied her waist as she gripped my search and rescue tee. Fuck, her skin was so incredibly soft under my fingers.

A wicked grin spread across her face, and she skimmed my jaw with her lips. “Do you, now?”

Every muscle in my body tightened, but I found the strength to pull back. “In every way possible. When you’re sober.”

She huffed and nodded loosely at the crowd of college kids. “That guy didn’t care if I was sober.”

Ouch.

“That guy is an asshole,” I ground out, reminding myself to thank Sam for calling me. Morgan would have beaten the shit out of herself for going home with a stranger, and then I probably would have beaten the shit out of the stranger for taking advantage of her.

“I just wanted to be numb for a minute,” she drawled softly.

“Yeah, I can imagine you did.” I sure as hell didn’t blame her. I would have been drunk every day of my life if I’d been through what she had. “Why don’t you let me take you home, Kitty? Any decisions you make when you’re this wasted will be the kind you regret in the morning.”