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“You still straight, handsome?”
I grinned and shook my head at him. “Incredibly. Sorry.”
“Me too.” He smirked ruefully and handed me a fifty. “There’s a drink for you too in there.”
I winked and moved on to my next customer.
At three in the morning, everyone was hammered, and some were getting hammered in the bathrooms. Roe and I were pretty lit too, which tended to happen the first work shift after I’d had Colin for a week. We took an cab to work on Fridays for a reason.
The DJ blasted a new song that Roe also loved, “Hangover,” with Flo Rida and some British star whose name I could never remember. But it was a good tune, one that made the whole club jump up and down in the electric light show.
The money rolled in, and the card reader ran hot.
I blew out a breath and threw off my ball cap. It was way too hot for that. The music pumped through me, and I was fucking relieved the people were too drunk to order complicated cocktails at this hour. We were slinging mostly shots, beer, and vodka with various sodas. Rum too. These men loved their rum.
“Jake!”
“In a minute!” I set the card reader in front of a customer, then poured two beers for another.
Roe came over to me with a drunk smirk and showed a blackboard we used for writing specials. I squinted and tried to focus on what he’d scribbled. Wait, what? Buy the bartenders a Tequila Licking?
Were they ever gonna fucking stop using lewd names for—hold on. Buy the bartenders a what?
“You game?” Roe yelled over the music. “Juan gave me the green light! Twenty bucks to the register, we keep the rest!”
I, uh… Lemme get this straight. Customers could pay a hundred bucks for Roe and me to take a tequila shot off each other? We’d lick salt off each other’s necks, do the shot, then grab a lime wedge from between the other’s lips.
Amusement trickled in, and I just couldn’t believe him. I cracked up and leaned closer to him. “We’re bartenders—not turnin’ tricks!”
“What’s the difference?!” he retorted.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. I groaned a laugh, then just shrugged and sort of agreed. My brain was in that magical place where life was a party and I was happy to work with my best friend. We had so much fun together.
Roe got swept away by the music and held up the blackboard for everyone to see on his way to the spot where we hung the weekly specials. Then he removed the Hard Cock(tail) Special and hung the very new Tequila Licking, a “Roe & Jake Exclusive.”
My buddy was fucked in the head.
Thank God he’d limited this thing to three shots per night.
Before we knew it, Juan squeezed himself to the front and slapped a hundred-dollar bill to the sticky bartop. “You know what I want, boys!”
In the flashing lights, Roe laughed so hard he could barely breathe, and I couldn’t hold my glare for shit. Of-fucking-course Juan would get this started. The mayhem was deafening. Juan began chanting, “Lick, lick, lick!” to the beat of the song, and others were quick to chime in.
Fuck it. If this was gonna be a new thing during our shifts—and talk about easy money—we better sell it. I grabbed two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila, and I let out a sharp whistle for Roe to get into gear.
“Grab the limes and salt over there!” I hollered.
Was he fucking shy? No. But he wasn’t as cocky as he usually was. His shit-eating grin held traces of something else. Almost as if he had the decency to be at least a little bashful about the whole ordeal.
It was kinda sweet, actually.
For the first time in our friendship, I felt the need to raise the bar and take charge, so as soon as he joined me with salt and limes, I was in control. I closed the distance between us and placed a lime wedge between his teeth. Then I slid my fingers into his damp hair at the back of his head and exposed his neck for me. I poured salt across his skin before I lifted one of the shots in a silent cheers at the crowd staring hungrily.
“We’re gonna regret this.” I spoke for only him to hear. Then I ducked down and licked his neck. From his neckline up to his ear. The shot followed; I tossed it back and swallowed, and a rush of liquid heat slithered through me. A new level of intoxication hit me. I felt Roe shudder against me, and I thought I heard him mutter fuck. But I wasn’t sure. The music, the roar of the customers, faded into the background, and I leaned in and bit into the lime, sending trickles of juice down our chins. The strong flavors mixed, with the lime winning in the end, and then all I saw were the lime-juice-stained lips that belonged to Roe.
