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"I know the best way to cool off." Elsa heads for the bar and I follow her. She gets the attention of the bartender, "Two tequilas, please." Within minutes, he places two shots in front of us.
She picks up her shot glass, while I eye mine with doubt. "Um, I am not sure I should—"
"You absolutely should," she insists. "Come on." She picks up my shot glass and thrusts it at me. "Bottoms up!"
She holds up her own glass. I take my glass from her, then clink glasses with her.
"That’s the spirit. On the count of one-two-three—”
I throw back the liquor in the shot glass. The alcohol slides down my throat. It hits my stomach and tendrils of heat radiate out to my extremities.
"Whoa," I shake my head, "that was—"
"Good!" she declares. "It was excellent." She gestures to the bartender, "Two more, please."
"Oh, no," I back away, "I am not drinking more."
"Oh, yes, you are." She picks up a glass, and pushes it into my hand, "Come on, you have to keep me company."
I draw in a breath and am about to protest when she whines, "Come on, Theresa, it’s our first time out together. We need to celebrate."
"Right," I resist the urge to roll my eyes, "you don’t need to get drunk to celebrate."
She stares at me, "Of course, you do." She raises her glass, "Come on!"
I hesitate and she lifts up my hand, then clink her glass to mine, "Drink up!"
I blow out a sigh. Damn, I really don’t want to get tipsy, but no way, is she letting me out of this unless I oblige her. I clink my glass with hers, then throw back the contents of the shot glass. This one goes straight to my head. A delicious warmth infuses my chest. I can’t stop my lips from curving up.
"Whoa," I fan myself, "that’s something."
"Right?" She turns to the bartender but I grasp her shoulder.
"NO more for me. I am going to the bathroom."
"Hold on, I’ll come with you," she interjects.
I wave her off. "You get another drink, I’ll just head to the bathroom and back."
"But—"
I cut her off, "I’ll be fine. I just need a minute to cool off." I brush past her and head for the restroom before she can protest. Once there, I join the queue snaking past the restroom doors. It’s a full twenty minutes before I return to the bar, only to find Elsa glowering up at Seb.
I walk up to stand between them as Seb reaches down to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. What the—? I stare between them for a full minute, and yet, neither of them notices me. The tension between them is off-the-charts.
"Hello, everything okay?" I finally ask.
Elsa scowls and takes a step back. Seb lowers his hand to his side at the same time.
"Elsa? Seb? What's going on here?"
"What's going on is that your bodyguard seems to think he owns the place, is what."
"I do, actually." Seb looks her up and down. He seems to notice her dress for the first time and his features harden. "What the fuck are you wearing?" he asks.
"Excuse me?" Elsa opens and shuts her mouth. "What did you just say?"
"You may as well as be parading naked for all that you have on."
