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“Wow, these are so expensive. I don’t think we should drink any of it.”
I chuckled as I plopped down on one of the couches. “Trust me, we can drink it. I’ll replace it. Tyson doesn’t keep the really expensive stuff in here.”
“Um…okay.”
I heard the clanking of bottles as she continued to search, and I began to wonder what her type of wine was. I saw her more as a white wine kind of woman…bitter and dry as fuck. I chuckled to myself just as she made it back to me, making a face.
“What are you laughing at me for?”
“Not laughing at you, I’m just funny as fuck.”
She crinkled her nose in disgust and then sat down beside me. “Here. There aren’t any glasses in here.”
“Cool, we’ll just split the bottle.”
“But then I won’t know how much I drank.” She actually looked concerned about that as her brows furrowed.
“Sounds like a good thing to me.”
She eyed me but didn’t say anything as I sat my now-empty beer bottle down and popped the bottle of wine open. Then she admitted, “I’m a lightweight.”
“Perfect. Here.” I handed her the open bottle of red wine. I guess I’d gauged her wrong all along.
I wonder what else I’ve gotten wrong about her.
I wasn’t sure why the fuck I cared, but as she took a long swig of the alcohol, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if I were more like the rest of my bandmates. They’d be all over Lena—just for one night, of course.
Maybe I could try it…
“Why are you looking at me like you’re going to eat me?” She handed the bottle to me…as she burped.
I burst into laughter. “Holy shit, you really don’t drink much, do you?”
Her cheeks flushed, visible even in the dimly lit room. “Sorry.”
“It’s cool. I don’t care.” I chugged a good portion of the bottle, mostly just because of the shock on her face.
“And you’re an alcoholic.”
“Definitely not.” I laughed, barely feeling a buzz in the moment. “I don’t let myself get shit-faced anymore. I always make dumb decisions when I drink.”
“Ew.” She winced. “Gross.”
“Not with women,” I, for some reason, felt the need to clarify. “I just wind up jumping into a fountain or streaking around the yard.”
“Gotcha.” She downed more of the wine.
And twenty minutes later, the bottle was empty.
“Oh my god,” she giggled. “I can’t believe we drank all of that.”
She’s definitely tipsy.
But then again, I was too.
“You’re such a jerk.” She poked my arm, her giggle fit growing.
I looked over at her, taking in the delicate shape of her face, her eyes bright beneath the moonlight. Fuck, she is gorgeous.
