Page 102 of Top Shelf

“Careful,” she murmurs.

“That is my line.”

“Maybe I stole it.”

“You are stealing many things tonight.”

Her gaze drops to my mouth.

“For example?” she asks.

My heart.

I lean closer. “My patience.”

She breathes out a laugh, her eyes skating between mine and down to my lips.

“Do you want my mouth, min fru?”

She opens her mouth to respond, but Lulu screams first. “Heidi! Viktor! We need another duet from the newlyweds!”

But Heidi doesn’t look away from me. “Later.”

After that, the night becomes a blur of bad songs, worse tequila, and Heidi’s body brushing mine every time she slips past the table. She sings with Zoe. She dances with Lulu. A woman at the bar leans in while she’s waiting for water and says something that makes Heidi laugh, her hand going to her own chest in amused surprise. The woman’s eyes linger on her, and I watch.

Heidi catches me looking and raises an eyebrow across the room, but I just lift my glass. There’s no jealousy in me, only the private satisfaction of knowing she is coming home with me. And will be coming for me, too.

Near midnight, the group begins to fray at the edges. Chase claps a hand on my shoulder as we stand near the door.

“You know, Karlsson, I misjudged you. You have weirdly powerful camp energy.”

“I do not know what that means.”

“It means you’re a fuckin’ giant tank who will sing boyband music for his wife without blinking.” He looks past me to where Heidi is hugging Zoe. “Respect.”

I shake my head. “You would do worse for Zoe.”

“I have done worse for Zoe.” He grins. “Marriage, man.”

“Yes,” I say. “Marriage. You should look into it.”

I look at Heidi as she turns toward me with flushed cheeks, her hair mussed from dancing. The cab pulls up outside, and I open the door to let Heidi slide in first. I follow, giving the driver our address before she can say anything, and the city starts moving past the windows in streaks of blurry neon.

For a minute, we are quiet and keep to our sides, but then Heidi’s hand lands on my knee.

“You sang Backstreet Boys for me.”

“For Chase.”

“No.” Her fingers walk slowly up my thigh. “For me.”

I look at her hand, then at her face. She’s smiling, but the laughter from the bar has changed. Her shoulder presses into my arm as she leans in, mouth close enough that I can see where her lipstick has faded.

“You danced to *NSYNC for me,” I say.

“I danced to *NSYNC for myself. You were lucky to witness it.”

“I know.” I let my gaze move over her. “I would have watched you all night.”