“Oh, umm… yeah. It’s,” I blow out a breath like a dragon shooting fire, “that’s hot!”
She giggles under her breath and pushes the tray toward me. “Well, there’s more where that came from. You’ve got the whole fruit-flavored line in front of you. The creams are the best.”
My stomach churns a little when I look down at them, but I ignore the voice in my head in favor of proving Ryker wrong. My twenty-first birthday was nearly a year and a half ago. I’m sure my more adult body can handle a few shots now.
I shoot back the blackberry pie, letting the whiskey sit on my tongue for a moment to absorb the notes before swallowing.
“Tastes like pie, right?” Marin dries out a mason jar as we talk. “Like you can taste the bush the blackberries were on.”
“Not sure I’m getting all that, but it’s pretty good,” I lie, feeling a little buzzed. “I might take a few bottles home with me. I think I’m going to need them to get through tonight.”
“What’s tonight?”
I lean in and whisper low, as my head lifts to the clouds, “I really shouldn’t be drinking eighty-proof anything. I’m selling myself in a virgin auction.”
“A virgin auction?” She narrows her perfectly manicured brows. “What’s that?”
“It’s this online bidding site. You list your picture, a few details, and wait for the money to roll in. I’ve been chatting with this Allen guy for a while. He’s a doctor from the Springs. Late twenties, looking for a virgin to deflower and maybe more.”
“Oh my God,” she gasps and leans back from the counter as though she just found out her boyfriend likes wearingwomen’s underwear, “are you serious? Why would you do this? Do you like this guy?”
“I don’t know him, really. I mean, we’ve talked a few times online, but this isn’t about finding love. It’s about cashing in. I need the money.”
“What could you possibly need money for that you’d do this?” Her tone is judgmental, but I’m used to people like her. Heck, people like her are the only people I know, and I prefer it that way. I like knowing where someone stands.
Thankfully, I can dish it out as well as I can take it.
“Sorry, but really,” she continues and shakes her head, her beaded earrings swaying, “what do you need the money for? I mean, the guy could be a total weirdo. He could be luring you into a web so he can murder you and sell your parts online.” Marin slides a jar of whiskey toward a woman in full western garb, who’s getting an earful all about my terrible life choices.
“Lucky for me, my parts aren’t worth much. Plus, the website does background checks and the guys are vetted.” I shrug. “The bidding was up to fifty grand when I looked last. That’s enough to finally buy a little piece of land and start my homestead. I really want chickens.”
Marin’s eyes widen again in judgment. “You’re doing this to buy chickens?”
“Umm,” I pop my lips playfully, “no. Are you listening? I’m doing this for land. Land is expensive out here. I don’t have a mommy and daddy paying my bills, and I didn’t go to college. So, it’s either work admin for ten years and hope I save enough to purchase land or do this one thing and fast-track the process.”
Marin laughs. “I like you.”
“Thanks!” I grin and twist my hair to the side of my shoulder. “What am I saving myself for anyway? Some guy who’s gonna think screwing me in the back of his pickup truck isromantic?” I laugh and shoot back another shot casually, like an idiot.
Marin drums her fingers against the bar. “I’m surprised your protector hasn’t stopped you. Doesn’t seem like something he’d approve of.”
“Yeah, he doesn’t know, and he never will.” My stomach churns as I talk, and before I can say another word, the fruity hot whiskey is making its way back up my throat.
Oh shit!
I clasp my hand over my mouth, run to the bathroom, push open the swinging door, and throw myself over the back stall toilet, heaving up the whiskey I swore I could hold.
“I told you that whiskey makes you sick,” Ryker’s deep voice echoes as he swings the bathroom door open and steps into the stall, his big hands gathering my hair back. “You always have to prove yourself, though.”
His tongue is sharp, but his hands stay gentle at the back of my head, and despite everything, I’m thankful he’s here with me.
When I’m confident I’m not going to die on the bathroom floor, I wipe my mouth with the back of my forearm and stand straight, looking back at my brother’s friend. “I probably have a stomach bug or something. Here… come closer… let’s see if it’s contagious.” I playfully grab his massive shoulders and lean into his chest, half expecting him to pull away, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he stays right there, solid and warm, like he’s daring me to move first. This strange stance goes on for a long moment, our gazes stuck on one another like we’re in one of those cheesy romance movies people watch at Christmastime.
“You’re a pain in the ass,” he grumbles.
“I’m a pain in the ass? You’re the one trying to micromanage my life. You do realize I can throw up without you, get drunk without you, talk to strangers without you.” I grin andpush past his giant frame to splash cold water onto my face. “Besides, now I know for sure I can’t shoot whiskey. It wasn’t a fluke. How would I have known if I didn’t try again?”
