“Cheers.” He makes pointed eye contact with me. I stare back, widening my eyes. “Cheers.” “What are you doing?” Hazel asks, glancing between us with an amused smile. “You have to make eye contact when you toast,” Hayden explains, like it’s obvious. I nod. “Or you have seven years of bad sex.” Hayden adopts a stricken expression. “We can’t take the risk.”
