“Are you going to invite me to be your plus-one?” Zeth asks, his voice rumbling in my ear.
“Oh, come on. I’m hardly going to go. It wouldn’t be safe.”
“Would I get the invite if you were going?”
I want more than anything in this world to kiss Zeth right now, but I know it’s not a good idea. Instead, I throw caution to the wind and I press my lips against his ribcage, closing my eyes. “Yes,” I say. “You’d get the invitation.”
Zeth inhales deeply, in that way that patients do when they’ve had too much pain relief and it feels good to stretch their lungs to maximum capacity. He is immensely high right now, but he’s doing a solid job of keeping his shit together. He exhales slowly, and then he speaks. He’s so quiet, I have to strain to hear him. “I told you once this could be a fairy tale if you let it. And I told you the part I’d play in that fairy tale. But if you want to go to this thing…” He stops talking for so long that I assume he’s fallen asleep. But then he turns his head, his lips moving as he brushes them against my hair. “If you want to go, Sloane…I’ll make it happen. For you, I can switch characters. I will be Prince Charming for a night.”