The feel of Kate's hand in her hair has practically reduced her legs to jelly, anyway, and she sucks her lower lip into her mouth, tasting remnants of the alcohol and something else, unidentifiable at first.

They're past the stairs now, at least; even in her wine-soaked haze, she still remembers the direction the bedrooms are in.

Reluctantly, she pulls back, if only temporarily, to head that way.