“I’m afraid I might lose you to the wine if I let go.”

She nods. “Good point.”

After tripping over a few stairs, we make our way to the main lobby, then head out to the manicured lawns, past the pool—don’t need any nighttime swims in our clothes.

“It’s so beautiful here,” she says. “Look at the moon. It’s huge.”

“So big, it feels like you can touch it.” As I attempt to lift my hand, I stumble over a rock and plaster myself to the ground. I end up rolling down a short hill while Myla laughs her ass off the entire time.

She peeks down the hill and says, “You okay?”

Lying on my back, I stare up at her and say, “I fell.”

She laughs some more. “I noticed.”

I hold my arms out. “Baby, I need your help. I think . . . I think I fell on a rock, and I’m bleeding. I feel something moist on my back.”

“Hold on, there are stairs right here.” She walks down the stairs and carefully comes closer, balancing on her heels the whole time. When she reaches me, she reaches into my pocket.

“Oh yeah, a little to the left, babe.”

She playfully swats my chest. “I’m looking for your phone.” She pulls it from my pocket and then turns on the flashlight.

“I really think I got jabbed. I might need stitches,” I say.

“You’re ridiculous. You can get hit in the elbow by a ninety-five-mile-per-hour baseball and not even flinch, but a rock to the back has you crying for medical care.”

“I have my strengths and weaknesses.”

She shines the light on my back and then gasps before chuckling. “Oh . . . you landed on grapes. For a second, I thought it was blood.”

“Are you sure?” I ask her.

“Positive.”

I exhale. “Thank God, no stitches.” And then I lie back on the grapes again and stare up at the night sky.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Enjoying the view.”

She looks up at the sky and then back at me. “Aren’t I the view?”

“If you were topless, yeah.”

“Pervert,” she mutters, causing me to laugh. And then I do something I probably shouldn’t do, but hey, I’m drunk, so who cares? I lift her and pull her on top of me, placing her directly on my lap.

“My dear sir, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Using you as a blanket. I’m chilly.”

“Aw, you poor baby,” she says as she pats my chest. “Let me see if your nipples are hard.” She runs her hands over my pecs and glances to the side. “Hmm, can’t quite tell. I’m going to need a closer look.” She untucks my shirt from my pants and slips her hand against my warm skin. Her palm lights me up as her fingers caress my erect nipples. “Oh, look at that. They are hard.”

“Yeah, something else is going to be hard in a second if you don’t stop playing with my nipples.”