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He didn’t respond. He just kept staring at me with those brilliant green eyes that took my breath away every time I stared into them.
“Not to interrupt your little eye-blinking session,” Selena cleared her throat, causing heat to rise to my cheeks.
“Oh. My. God,” Selena said in excitement.
She stepped forward and extended her hand. “You must be the brooding older brother to her annoying ex-boyfriend.”
Nathaniel cocked an eyebrow and stared at her hand. “And you are?”
“Selena.”
“Like Gomez?” Xander stepped forward, his once glare replaced by a flirtatious smirk.
“No ass,” Selena crossed her arms over her chest, causing her boobs to bulge even more. “Like Quintanilla-Peréz. Do I look like a Disney princess to you?”
“You got some fire in you. I like it.”
Selena’s frown deepened. “Back up walking STD incubator.”
“Selena,” I hissed, “you can’t say that about people.”
“Is it not true?” She was looking at Xander. “The man just screams player. I’m sure you have slept through half of the female population in Chicago.”
“Just because I enjoy sex casually, that means I have STDs? I will have you know I get tested regularly.”
“Good for you.” Her tone oozed with sarcasm.
The small group fell silent, and we all just looked at each other, unsure of what to do. Xander and Selena were having some secret stare-off. While Nathanial looked like he wanted to be anywhere but the current place he was standing in.
Then an idea popped into my mind. It was likely a dumb one, but at least it would guarantee to take the edge off.
“Shots, anyone?” I suggested cutting through the awkward silence that had enveloped us.
Xander and Selena both looked at me with matching smiles on their faces. Nathaniel, if possible, scowled even more.
“Hell to the fuck, yes. But I say we make it interesting. We can play a little game.” Selena wiggled her eyebrows, looking at all three of us.
“Now you're speaking my language, shortcake.” Xander rubbed his hands together.
“Truth or drink.”
“Oh no.”
“Hell, yes!” Xander clapped his hands and waved to Vic, who stood behind the bar. “Vic, 16 rounds of your strongest tequila, please.”
This was a disaster just waiting to happen.
7
AMELIA
We sat at the back of the bar, isolated from most bargoers. I stared down at the four shots laid out before me.
I was a complete lightweight. I learned early in college that I could not drink with anyone. My drink limit was one, and my shot intake was half a shot before I started behaving like a hoochie who hadn’t been touched in almost a decade.
I didn’t want to act out, but I didn’t want to answer questions.
Why was there peer pressure going on here?
