“I’m thinking this might actually be my last shot of the night,” Logan admits from beside me.
“Same,” Candice chimes in, holding up a finger from the other side of Logan. “I haven’t drunk this much in, well… I don’t even know. Probably not since our college days.”
“Lightweights,” I tease, even if I should likely be following in their footsteps.
This buzz isn’t just loosening my limbs, but my inhibitions as well. Whenever I look in Fletcher’s direction, my brain practically writes its own super-smutty fanfic in real time. Not only do I want to apologize for constantly being so hard on him, but an even bigger part wants to have a repeat of the other night as I push him up against this bar and kiss him in front of everyone here.
“Here you go,” the bartender says, pulling me away from yet another dangerous daydream as he places our shots onto the wooden bartop.
We dutifully reach for our last shots of the night.
“To Fletch!” I declare, holding my tiny glass towards my friends as they clink their glasses into mine.
“To Fletch!” They echo before we throw them back.
I don’t even make a face or flinch this time. My taste buds have long since surrendered to the tart, lemony burn. There’s no way I don’t look like a total badass right now.
“To me, huh?” He leans in, eyebrow cocked.
“Yep,” I say with an overly-tipsy grin. I no longer fight the impulse as I reach up and ruffle his perfectly styled, post-shower hair. “If you hadn’t messed up so badly, we wouldn’t be out having this much fun.”
Perhaps we would’ve still found our way to the bar tonight. Maybe even had a drink or two to celebrate another sold-out game, but it certainly wouldn’t be to this degree. I’m not even sure what number I’m on, though that’s likely for the best. I suck at math on a good day, so tonight we’re keeping track in good vibes only.
He runs his fingers through his hair, smoothing it back into place. “I think you’d be fun no matter what. I enjoy getting to know both sober and drunken Hollis.”
“Awww,” Logan chimes in with a girlish squeal. “He does have it bad.”
He doesn’t fight the accusation. Instead, he welcomes it with a shrug. “You’re not wrong,” he says, glancing toward Logan. “Now if only we could get Hollis to feel the same way about me.”
“Who says I don’t?” I ask, the alcohol in my system somehow turning into truth juice.
“You?” He scoffs, the corner of his lips lifting even higher. “Being just as down bad for me as I am for you? Since when?”
I mime zipping my lips shut before tossing the imaginary key over my shoulder. No clue if that made any sense, but I’m committed to the bit and choose not to overthink it.
He chuckles. “It was the kiss that won you over, wasn’t it? I have been told these lips know how to work some magic.”
And then he winks, because of course he does. Which I would really appreciate if he stopped. I’m already struggling as it is not to think about those magical lips of his and where exactly he could make that so-called magic happen.
“You know, it could be that,” Candice admits with a few bobs of her head. “She did say you had some surprisingly soft lips and that you clearly knew what you were doing—”
Fletcher laughs as I reach around Logan and give Candice a light shove.
“Hey now. That was girl talk. You know the rules.”
"Oh, right,” she agrees, sitting up straighter before pretending to zip her lips closed as well.
“Yeah. I mean come on,” Logan scoffs with a devious smirk, her voice laced in sarcasm. “She never said anything about it being one of the hottest kisses she’s ever had.”
I sigh and roll my eyes, because, well, what else can I do? They aren’t lying, and the look he’s giving me shows he knows it, too.
“It’s good to know the feelings that night were mutual,” he simply states.
I hate how my body reacts to hearing that. Like seriously, stop being a fucking traitor. Sure, I assumed he enjoyed the kiss. The man pretty much made it a second job to follow me around and flirt, but still, hearing it said aloud just hits different. Now if only these raging hormones of mine had an off-switch.
“So, about that Uber you were supposed to provide,” Logan cuts in. “I’m thinking it’s time I call it a night. Fletcher’s lines are working a little too well, and if I don’t get out of here soon I might find myself making some questionable decisions as I go off in search of a man of my own.”
“Same. Minus the whole man thing,” Candice says, her nose wrinkling. “I don’t think Kenny would appreciate that very much. Unless it’s Tom Holland. He is my hall pass, after all.”
