“What are we drinking to?” I ask when I’ve managed to extricate myself from his grip and recenter myself. “Same thing we always drink to.” “Oh yeah, and what’s that?” “You,” he says as if it’s obvious. As if it’s something we’ve done many times before. He clinks our glasses together and fixes me with a gaze that starts out innocent and quickly turns blisteringly hot. His voice drops an octave. “And the fact you’re my guy.”
