Page 13 of The Best Shot

At some point Nico started talking about wedding venues. Tabby lit up and everyone else smiled. Annie contributed increasingly terrible suggestions.

“What about a Barnes and Noble?”

“Lumberyard? Feels meaningful.”

Tabby threw a pillow at her.

Closer to one, Grant stretched and yawned. “Alright, I’m done pretending I’m twenty-five.”

“You’re thirty-eight,” Ava said.

“Exactly.”

“Lightweight.” She stood anyway and started gathering empty glasses. “If you drove and you’re past two drinks, congratulations, you live here tonight. Guest rooms are open. You know the drill.”

“I’m good,” Nico said, though he still hadn’t moved from where Tabby was tucked under his arm.

“You’re staying,” Ava told him. “Both of you.”

“We could⁠—”

“Nope. Already decided.”

Annie raised her hand from where she’d melted into the couch. “I’m in. Too comfortable to move anyway.”

“Hale?”

He checked his beer, mostly empty. “Yeah, alright. Thanks.”

Ava turned to me. “Yaz?”

I’d lost count of how much I’d had, but it was enough that driving seemed like a bad idea. “If you don’t mind.”

“Please. You know we love having you.”

Tabby and Nico headed upstairs first, murmuring goodnight. Ava followed after extracting promises that we’d clean up our own mess, with Grant tugging her away before she could add another rule.

Which left me, Hale, and Annie in the living room.

Annie had gone very quiet.

I looked over.

Her eyes were closed. Mouth slightly open. One arm dangling off the couch like she’d been unplugged.

“Is she…?” I started.

“Out cold,” Hale confirmed.

We both stared at her.

“Should we wake her?” I asked. “Get her to a bed?”

“We could try.”

I leaned over and shook her shoulder gently. “Annie. Hey. Come on. Let’s get you upstairs.”

“No,” she mumbled, swatting vaguely in my direction. “M’fine here.”