There are half-naked girls. Men with no shirts. Tables set up where several people are playing beer pong. The music is way too loud, making the voices that are raised to be heard over said music dang near deafening.
“Tell me about it.” He blows out a hard breath as he turns back to face me. “And this has only been going on for an hour. Imagine what this crowd is going to look like in three or four.”
“I’m not sure they’re going to make it that long,” I say, able to count at least ten people doing shots in my current line of sight.
“Are you kidding? They’re college kids. This is an every weekend occurrence for them. Probably some weeknights too.”
“My stomach hurts just watching them drink,” I admit, my throat already feeling a little prickly from having to raise my voice.
“Understandable considering you have the alcohol tolerance of a mouse.” When he smiles, I swear the floor beneath my feet sways a little.
My goodness, how I’ve missed that smile. More than I ever thought possible until this very moment.
“What?” I fake offense. “I’ll have you know I can do some damage to a bottle of red wine.”
This turns his smile into a laugh, the sound hitting me square in the chest as it takes me back to a time when hearing that sound was a regular occurrence.
“Wine doesn’t count.” He shakes his head, pulling out two shot glasses and placing them on the bar in front of me. “Now tequila...” He snags a bottle and proceeds to fill both of the glasses. “Definitely counts.”
“I know one of those isn’t for me.” I shake my head.
“Oh, don’t be such a buzzkill.” Josie slides up next to me, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. Taking one of the shot glasses, she brings it to her lips and tosses it back like it’s water. “She doesn’t drink tequila,” she tells Penn, taking the second shot, and drinks that one as well. “Not since New Year’s Eve 2023. Instead of getting to watch the ball drop, I was stuck holding someone’s hair back.” She jerks her head in my direction.
I brace for his reaction to Josie bringing up my time in New York, but he doesn’t miss a beat as he grabs another bottle and holds it up so I can see the label.
“Vodka?”
“Even worse.” Josie shakes her head with a laugh, remembering something she thankfully doesn’t speak out loud, which is that I got really drunk on my twenty-first birthday on vodka cranberries and may or may not have shown off some of my dance moves on a stage where the band was trying to play.
Not my finest moment and probably why I don’t drink often; it never ends well for me.
Amused, Penn sets the bottle down and lifts another.
“Fireball?”
“Now we’re talking.” Josie smacks the bar.
Penn refills the two shot glasses and slides one in front of me.
“Oh no. I am not drinking that.” I shake my head back and forth.
“Don’t worry, if you get sick, you have Josie here to hold your hair back.”
“And who’s going to hold hers?” I fire back.
“Fine. You hold her hair. I’ll hold yours.”
“As humorous a sight as that would be... Pass.” I crinkle my nose.
“Oh, come on, LV. Live a little.” Alec slides up next to me, tossing an arm around my shoulder.
I don’t miss the way Penn’s eyes track the movement nor can I deny the zing of excitement I feel knowing even after all these years, he still doesn’t like to see another man—even his brother—touching me.
“Swallowing poison is not living in my opinion.” I glance up at Alec’s profile just in time to see him give Josie a once-over, swallowing hard before quickly looking away.
I smile to myself.
“Poison never tasted so good.” He picks up the shot made for me. “What do you say, Josie cat?” He clinks his glass against the one she’s currently holding.
