Crosby tightened his hold on me. “I see that evil glint in your eyes. Don’t even think about it.”
I turned to face him, giving exaggerated Bambi eyes. “Who, me?”
He shivered. “You scare me, woman.”
“Good.”
Bell clapped, bringing my attention back to her. “Okay, what are you going to try first?”
I surveyed the drinks in front of me and winced. There was every size, shape, and color, and none of them looked all that appetizing. Well, maybe the fruity one looked okay. I pointed at that one.
Bell slid it forward on the bar. “How very Sex in The City of you.”
“Cosmo?”
“Yup. I think you’ll like it.”
I lifted the martini glass, examining its contents.
Crosby let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s not going to bite you, just take a drink already.”
“I’m looking for the poison you might’ve slipped in.”
Bell laughed while Ford choked. “You two are my favorite sideshow.”
I rolled my eyes and took a sip. Sweet. Crisp. I took another drink. “This is good.”
“Told you,” Bell said.
Crosby crowded in close. “Just pace yourself, you’ve got nine others to try.”
I took another sip, a larger one this time. “I’m not a child, Crosby, I know what I can handle.”
“It’s true,” Bell chimed in. “I’ve only seen her drunk once in my entire life, and it was actually more like tipsy.”
Crosby scoffed. “Come on, you must have had at least one college bender.”
“Not really my scene.” I’d spent most of my college years trying not to let grief swallow me whole. I’d seen what happened when you used alcohol to numb your pain—it became a crutch while it wrecked your life from the inside out. So, I’d stayed busy. Taking as many classes as I could handle, getting a part-time job. The only thing I’d drawn the line at was joining clubs. I wasn’t exactly a group activities kind of person. I’d stuck close to my comforting circle of Bell and Caelyn, and when Caelyn had to drop out at the end of our junior year to take care of her siblings, it had just been Bell and me. I’d been more than fine with that. I didn’t need a bunch of casual acquaintances. I only needed my tight-knit crew of three.
“Kenna?”
I started at the sound of Bell’s voice. “Sorry, what?”
Concern flashed across her features, and I fought the urge to wince. The last thing I needed was Bell worried and hovering.
“Which drink do you want to try next?” she asked.
I forced a smile, only I could hear Crosby’s voice in my head talking about my real smile, the one I rarely let out. The damn man could see right through me. The knowledge had me wanting to shore up my walls. “You pick.”
Bell looked up at Ford. “What do you think?”
“Scotch.”
“You’re mean,” she chided.
“Why is that mean? Is it awful?” My gaze jumped from person to person.
“Never had scotch?” Crosby asked. “It’s one of my favorites.”
I scrunched up my nose. “You like that god-awful Guinness, so I’m probably going to hate this.”
Bell pushed a glass with amber liquid forward. “You could always hold your nose while you try it.”
“No way,” Crosby interjected. “That’s cheating. She has to taste everything.”
I sighed and picked up the glass. I sniffed. Not appetizing. But I was no chicken. I took a sip and immediately spit it back in the glass. I whirled on Crosby. “That was disgusting! Are you trying to kill me? That tasted like rubber that had been set on fire.”
Crosby chuckled. “It’s an acquired taste.”
I lifted the Cosmo from the bar and took a sip, trying to rid my mouth of the awful taste. “Nothing else that tastes like the fires of hell, please.”
Ford grinned, shaking his head. “I think that was the worst.”
My eyes narrowed on him. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you’re the one who picked that drink for me. I’d watch my back if I were you, Hardy.”
Ford placed Bell in front of him like a shield. “Call her off, Trouble.”
She winked at me. “Now, why would I want to do that?”
The night wore on as I tried drink after drink, always using my Cosmo as a chaser. It wasn’t a ton of booze, but it was enough that I was looser than normal, a low heat running through my limbs. A small, amused crowd had gathered for my taste test, every time voting on whether I’d like the beverage or not. I had not been an easy grader, but I had finally reached the last few drinks. Next up was a shot with whipped cream on top. “What’s that?”
A huge grin spread over Bell’s face. “That, my friend, is a blowjob shot.”
The crowd around us tittered, and I took a step back. “Oh, hell no. I’m not drinking anything with that name.” The eyes on me made my skin prickle. All I could think about was what they might be whispering to each other about me.
Bell’s hands went to her hips. “Come on, don’t be a spoilsport. I’ll do one with you.”
Bell never drank on the job. Her offer meant there was no way I could say no. I groaned. Bell cheered in victory. “Make me one, would you, Cupcake?”
My lips twitched at the nickname. “Yeah, Cupcake, make her a shot.” Ford glared at me, which only made me smile wider.
He poured the shot and added whipped cream to the top. “You know you ladies have to take this one in the standard form.”
Bell pressed her lips together as if holding back a laugh. “Of course.”
My gaze darted between the two of them. They were up to something, and I didn’t like it one bit. “What does that mean?”
Crosby crowded in close, his heat warming my side. “Hands behind your back.”
My face scrunched. “Then how am I supposed to take the shot?”
Heat flooded his eyes. “Mouth only.”
My gaze snapped to Bell. “No way.”
“Come on, Kenna.” She held her hands up in an exaggerated motion, clasping them behind her back. “Don’t chicken out on me now.”
I glared at her but did the same. I followed her lead and wrapped my lips around the shot glass, tipping it back. The small crowd cheered. And the liquid that slid down my throat was the beginning of the end.
15
Kenna
I groaned as my alarm went off. The sound seemed to reverberate around the room and through my skull. I patted my nightstand, searching for the blasted devil machine so I could make it stop. After a few missteps and knocking my phone to the floor, I finally hit the off button.
I rolled to my back, the motion making my stomach pitch and roll. I felt like death warmed over. Was I getting the flu?
“You awake?”
I jolted to a sitting position at the sound of that husky voice, my world going just a bit blurry. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Crosby chuckled. “You don’t remember last night?”
I froze, searching back in my memories. The liquor taste test, the crowd, discovering my love of lemon drop shots…my gaze flew to Crosby. “Did I—?” I cleared my throat. “Did I get on stage and sing that Titanic song with Bell?”