Rath doesn’t see me coming until I’m slipping into his lap, so caught up in the music that he startles at the invasion. There’s a flash of irritation in his eyes that gets zapped away in an instant when he realizes it’s me. He greets me with a low, “Sour Cherry,” but despite the words, his arm snakes around my waist, holding me to him. “I’ve decided to be sweet tonight, actually.” I hand him the beer I’ve brought, still cold enough that’s it barely begun to sweat.
