"Louis..."
I murmur his name, wrapped up in the softness of his grey cashmere sweater. He's draped it over my shoulders like a blanket, and his arms are still around me, steadying me as my body threatens to sway and lurch forward.
Damn it. I shouldn't have drunk so much of that liqueur. This is bad.
The look on Ezra's face though... priceless. He looked furious when he first saw me on the balcony, but now that Louis has his arms wrapped protectively around me, he looks even bleaker. Ezra's face has shifted from rage to shock to crestfallen disappointment and all the way back to rage again, a beautiful 360 degrees of bruised male ego.
He looks like an angry toddler who had his favourite toy stolen away by another kid, on the verge of a major hissy fit meltdown.
It's awesome.
I litera
