Page 12 of All Our Nevers

I straighten up, locking eyes with Amelia as I dutifully repeat, “I want you to give me a Buzz.”

Amelia closes the rest of the distance, golden liquid glistening in the shot glass as the heat of her body reaches mine. She lifts her free hand to cup my chin between her manicured thumb and forefinger, sharp red nails gleaming in the low light. And wow, from this close… her skin really is perfect. Her lips a teasing pout, her golden-brown eyes shimmering like the whiskey in the glass. Damn her for being so beautiful—and so insufferable.

“Commander Mercado,” Sophie directs, “fuel him up.”

“Yeah, Amelia,” I say, “fuel me up.”

There’s more of a flirting tease than I usually allow in my voice with her, knowing how much she hates it, but from her posture I get the sense that tonight she’s willing to play.

The blunt edge of the shot glass presses into my bottom lip, her free hand holding my jaw in place. I breathe in slowly, the cloying smell of syrupy liquor the only thing anchoring me to reality. Slowly, she tilts the glass towards my waiting mouth. But just when I’m bracing for the taste of cinnamon on my tongue, she pauses. The sounds of the room quieting to a hum.

She leans forward to rasp in my ear—so low her friends can’t hear, “Say please.”

Those whiskey-colored eyes sparkle with mischief. She has me right where she wants me, and I don’t mind one bit.

I lick my lower lip, the tip of my tongue barely touching the rim of the glass before I say, “Please.”

“Good boy,” she hums, then finally tilts the amber liquid into my waiting mouth.

Her eyes locked on mine are the perfect distraction as I force it down, sickly sweet and burning.

I swallow, then say, “Delicious.”

There’s a clever gleam in her eye, like she knows exactly the power she has over me, despite all my mocking bravado. But I’m drunk, and she’s so pretty, and I don’t want to school my features. I’m sure she can see exactly what she does to me, and I let her, leaning an inch closer. The edges of my vision blur away until all I see is her wicked mouth, her long, shining hair, and the dare in her eyes.

“Payload Walsh,” Sophie cuts in, oblivious and cheerful and snapping my attention back into focus. “You may now administer the fuel.”

Right. My turn.

I raise my own shot glass between us, the other hand lifting one finger to gingerly coax her chin upwards. My voice is low and rumbling as I say, “I think I see why you like this game.”

The shot glass presses a pretty little indent into the pink flesh of her lip as she says, “I think you’re drunk.”

I feel a smile stretch across my cheeks.

“Ready?” I ask.

She nods. Calm. Confident. Lulled by the facade of our momentary, slightly sexy truce.

I could enjoy the peace between us—but that would be too easy. Instead, I toss the shot back into her mouth so quickly that it spills out the sides, dribbling down her jaw and onto her shirt. She tries to catch it as she coughs and sputters and everyone else shouts and cheers and it’s the best kind of chaos. I haven’t felt like this in years. Since law school? Maybe undergrad?

When was the last time I had friends?

Amelia clears her lungs enough to shout, “This shirt is hand-made, you jagoff!” but the group’s laughter undermines her anger.

I duck behind her oversized brother for cover, barely peering around him to watch her reaction unfold.

“Yeah, you better hide.” She wipes sticky dribbles from the corner of her lips as she asks, “Commander Lindell? Judgement?”

But Sophie’s still laughing, and she’s too soft-hearted for our brand of warfare. “He already has to do a second shot, Lia. I think he’s suffering enough.”

“Some best friend you are.” Amelia dabs hopelessly at the brown splotches on her white shirt.

We retake our seats and I almost miss my chair—feeling loose and unmoored, alcohol buzzing under my skin—but hit it on the second try, then make a focused effort to reach for that second shot glass. These things are so tiny. And the room is spinning just a little.

“You guys, I don’t think I’ve drunk this much since 1L.”

“In English?” Amelia asks.