Both of my legs hurt. My knees wobbled with every step, and the heels I wore weren’t helping. I should’ve just gone with my trusty flip-flops.
"You walk like you s**t your pants," Bree said, catching up to me as I awkwardly shuffled past rows of fermented wine shelves.
Frowning, I tried to straighten up. "No, I don’t," I denied, attempting to salvage my dignity. But Bree just giggled like someone was tickling her feet.
"Oh, yeah, you do. And I heard from Dad you were with Valerian the hottie last night. No wonder you didn’t come back after your so-called 'moment of unwinding.'" She even air-quoted, nudging me lightly.
That light nudge? Yeah, it was enough to topple me. My legs gave out, and I started panicking as I tipped forward, bracing for impact. But then—like some knight out of a
