Derek slips into the booth next to me and I feel that familiar swoop in my belly. It's nice though, kind of muted with the alcohol, and I have no qualms about leaning into him, head on his shoulder as I settle my hand on his thighs, fingers curling to pet him lightly. Goodness, he has quite a lot of muscle there. No wonder he's pretty good on skates.

"But that requires walking," I point out, letting my eyes slip shut again as I let out a soft breath. "And I'm so comfortable right here. You're comfortable. Just stay, I promise I won't snore or anything."