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Chapter 16
Tori
Becca stumbles up to me, drink in hand and laughing hysterically.
“Tori! I need another drink!”
I grab her glass before she spills it and set it on a nearby table.
I chuckle at the state of my best friend. We’ve only been to three places so far on this bachelorette bar crawl. She’s had a total of four drinks, but already she’s drunk.
Becca has always been a lightweight when it comes to alcohol though. And whenever she gets tipsy, she gets all giggly and affectionate. It’s really cute.
She leans against me. I hug my arm around her.
“Aww Bec, you sure you need another drink so soon? You haven’t finished this drink yet.” I gesture to the glass on the table next to us.
She wrinkles her ski-slope nose. “It’s gross.”
“What is it?”
“Gin and tonic. I think.” She sticks out her tongue. “Gin is so sick.”
I laugh. “Then why did you order it?”
“I always thought they sounded so classy. I always wanted to be a classy gin and tonic girl, but I just can’t do it.”
I laugh again before glancing around the country bar we’re in. Every surface in this place is plastered in honey-hued wood: from the floor to the tables to the stools to the bar to the stage to the walls. The entrance to the hallway that leads to the bathrooms is a set of saloon doors. There’s even a mechanical bull.
“Alright, ladies and fellas! It’s time for some super sexy line dancing!” the DJ hollers over the PA system. “Grab a partner and shake your booties on the dance floor!”
A bunch of people gather on the dance floor, which is at the center of the bar. One drunk guy pulls off his shirt as he dances and yells “Woo!” Another guy runs up to the shirtless guy and starts slapping his belly. The two of them laugh and high-five. One of the dancing couples has stopped dancing altogether and is now making out in the middle of the dance floor. A few dancers bump into them, but it doesn’t seem to faze the couple whatsoever.
I wince and look away as they start to pull at each other’s clothes. “It’s okay, Bec. You don’t have to be classy. Especially in a place like this.”
I have no idea how we ended up here. We started the night at a cool speakeasy-themed bar along the edge of downtown Denver and had a couple of yummy cocktails there before taking a rideshare to a trendy hotel lounge that Maya’s best friend Ingrid recommended.
The cocktails there were strong, leaving half of the people in our group anywhere from tipsy to drunk. I volunteered to look after everyone and make sure they stayed safe, so I’ve only had one drink this whole night. But it’s tough corralling a group of enthusiastic drunk people. Half of them got distracted by the neon sign at Bad Boy Billy’s Saloon and made a beeline for this place.
A total of ten of us are out tonight. I watch as a couple of my and Becca’s friends line dance to the country tune blasting through the speaker system.
Everyone else is sitting at our table, drinking or singing along to the song. I lead Becca to sit down and take the chair next to me. Maya’s cousin Millie downs a shot before standing up.
“Mama’s free tonight! I’m gonna dance!” she announces with her arms in the air, like she’s cheering herself on.
I laugh. “Yeah, you get wild, Millie!” I holler as she struts to the dance floor.
I glance over at Becca, whose long blonde waves sway around her shoulders as she bops along to the music.
Just then her eyes go wide. She beams. “I wanna ride the bull!” she announces.
I watch as the woman currently riding the bull is launched off, landing on the rubber mat-lined floor.
“Bec, are you sure you can handle that?”
