Page 2 of Passing Ships

She sniffles, and I shake my head.

“No. None of that. If you start crying, I’ll start crying, and we are celebrating, dammit,” I declare.

I tip the glass back and swallow the contents in one shot before snatching another from the kitchen island. Avie grins and does the same as someone turns up the music.

“Let’s dance,” Eden shouts as she grabs our free hands and tugs us toward the living room.

And we do. We dance and drink and laugh and celebrate.

“You’re drunk,” I say as Avie steps on my foot again.

We’re leaning on each other as we sway to the music.

“You’re both drunk,” Sebastian interjects as he pulls us apart.

Avie releases me and folds herself into his arms.

“I’m not drunk. I’m tipsy,” she slurs.

“Come on, my tipsy fiancée. I’ve tucked Leia in, and now, it’s time for me to tuck you in,” he whispers into her hair.

The party started dying down hours ago with only a few of the happy couple’s friends lingering.

“That’s our cue to vacate the premises,” Wade says as he takes Eden by the hand. “You ready, Lennon?”

Lennon, who is seated on the couch, stands and joins us.

“Yep.” He looks at his brother. “I’ll swing by tomorrow and help you guys clean up this mess.”

“Thanks, man.”

Sebastian leads Avie down the hallway. We gather our things from the entryway closet and make our way out onto the deck.

The cabana is on the ocean, and I stumble my way over to the railing as I inhale the salty air.

“Amiya, you’re staying at the cottage, right?” Eden asks.

“Yep, and I think I’m gonna need a ride,” I reply.

The cottage is a quaint little home tucked on the intracoastal side of the island. It’s across the street from and owned by Lennon and Sebastian’s grandparents. Avie and Leia have called it home since moving to the island, but Sebastian has spent the past few months renovating this seaside haven for his new family.

“We got you. We have to drop Lennon off at Sebby and Sabel’s anyway,” Wade says.

“Thanks. I’ll just leave my key fob so Sebastian and Avie can bring me my car in the morning,” I say as I fish around in my purse.

“If Lennon’s sober enough, why doesn’t he just drive your car? That way, they don’t have to,” Eden suggests.

I glance over at her, and she is wearing a mischievous smile as she turns her attention to Lennon.

“Sure, makes sense,” he says as he walks to me.

My eyes crawl up his looming frame.

“Trust me?”

I nod as I drop my purse to my side and place my key fob into his open palm.

He offers me his elbow, and I take it so he can lead me down the steps. When we reach the driveway, he stops us at my Mercedes. He clicks the button to unlock the doors and opens the passenger side for me.

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