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I glance at the amaretto sour in his hand, grinning. “I guess it wasn’t a complete mistake bringing you.”

“Arguable,” Vera says, sipping her cosmo.

Nate rolls his eyes. “We all know you both love me.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Vera chuckles.

Nate takes a long draw from his whiskey glass, winking at her before making a satisfied sound. “So? Are we going to liven this party up? Hit the dance floor?”

“I will not be dancing,” I say immediately.

Nate hooks his arm in mine, a feat as I am now holding two drinks. “Like hell you aren’t.” He shoots Vera a pointed look. “You too, grouchy.”

“Call me grouchy again,” Vera says with narrowed eyes.

Nate grins. “It’s called foreplay, babe.”

I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of me. One day, the two of them are either going to make each other very happy, or I’ll be representing one of them for murder. No in-between.

“Whatever,” Vera huffs. “One dance.”

“That’s the spirit,” Nate cheers.

He looks down at me expectantly, and my eyes unconsciously flick to where Ezra disappeared briefly, tearing them away immediately after and downing the rest of my champagne before setting the glass on a nearby table.

“What the hell,” I say.

Nate beams. Vera barely hides her smile.

I’m still trying not to look for Ezra.

•••

Dancing to astring quartet in a group of three people is just as difficult as it sounds, but Nate is nothing if not determined. His good humor has always been infectious, even though I hate to admit it, and by the time the third song ends, even Vera is laughing, albeit grudgingly.

“I need a break,” I tell them both at the end of the song. “My feet are killing me.”

“Never understand why you ladies wear those toe stranglers,” Nate says.

I point at said toes. “I have to stay in shape for my side business on FeetFinder.”

Nate wrinkles his nose. “I’ve seen your feet. Not sure you’d be killing it over there.”

“Rude,” I tsk. “I’ll have you know I chargepertoe.”

He waves me off with a roll of his eyes. “Go take your break, Bilbo.”

“Vera?” I shoot her a look. “You coming?”

Nate grabs her arm, pouting. “Don’t be a square. You wore sensible shoes for a reason.”

“I didn’t have dancing with you in mind when I put on my shoes,” she says with a hint of amusement in her tone.

He waggles his brows. “Be that as it may…”

“Fine,” she huffs. “One more.”

“That’s my girl.”