That’s not much consolation. I never got black-out drunk and don’t want to start now.
“Justin, make sure they’re drinking, and...” Finn glances around the room, extending the bowl of watches toward the girls. “Who’s next?”
A blonde I don’t recognize steps up, but I don’t pay attention to her watch-picking. My eyes are on Justin, who pours us the first shots.
“Lemons?” I ask, straightening my spine. “Salt?”
“Coming up,” Kelly-Ann chirps, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Girl, you’re getting trashed! This’ll be fun!”
I very much doubt that, but Mikaela sitting beside me makes me feel better, until she glances at Cody, every seductive trick she knows in full use.
She’s into him.
Everyone’s into him, Colt, and Conor. Since the latter now has a girlfriend, most girls infatuated with him turned their attention to Colt and Cody. They could snap their fingers and a harem of willing girls would materialize at their feet.
“Had I known we’d be playing this game, I would’ve memorized your watch, babe.”
Conor lets out a short laugh. “Your brother would cut off his dick if it got anywhere near you, Mikaela.”
“I think he’d rather it was Cody’s dick than say... Brandon or Justin’s.”
“Wouldn’t touch you if you begged,” Brandon fires back. “You’re too catty for me, sweetheart.”
“Take Rose home with you,” Cody tells Colt, ignoring the ongoing exchange. “I told her she could stay with me tonight.”
“She’s staying with us,” Vivienne says, sitting in Conor’s lap, his fingers doodling over her thigh.
That’s another thing all Hayes have in common apart from good looks—their love language. They’re incredibly clingy with their girls, always touching, kissing, hugging...
“Better she doesn’t hear you fucking in the next room,” Colt chuckles, messing up Vivienne’s hair before Conor immediately corrects it. “I’ll take Rose, but not before you’re done here, Cody. I have a feeling you’ll need to be carried out.”
“And whose fucking fault is that?” Cody snaps, grabbing a lemon slice from Kelly-Ann before she’s even set the plate on the table. “Let’s get this shitshow on the road.”
With that, he tips his head back, swallowing the tequila, and I follow his lead. I don’t know what would happen if we refused to drink. We won’t, so there’s little point in wondering. Cody will drink because his word is sacred, and I because bailing would give my friends more ammunition.
Justin pours another round, then another, but the bottle remains stubbornly full.
We’ve barely put a dent in, and I’m already tipsy. The shot glasses are big, Justin pours to the brim, and the tempo doesn’t help. It’s only been fifteen minutes.
Instead of hitting the mellow, blissful tipsy, I hit the other kind: tense, wary, scary, but the girls stay close. Their audible support is the most I’ve had from them in months, so I cling to them, downing shot after shot.
If a bottle of Patrón is what it takes to truly earn my friends back, then a bottle of Patrón it is.
Once it’s Justin’s turn to fuck someone in the closet, Cody takes over as our bartender.
My eyes snap to him when after filling his shot to the brim, he pours me half as much. Without using any words, he tells me to keep my mouth shut. At least, I think that’s what his stern look means.
I give him a small thankful nod, a warm feeling spreading through my veins.
He’s beingkind.
Towardme.
It might not be much, but knowing he’s willingly cheating, lowering my doses, is another huge step forward. While no one pays us attention, I mouththank you, slapping the tequila at the back of my throat.
We keep going. Shot after shot at a steady pace. Brandon makes me wash down the alcohol with water and stuffs me with absorbent snacks, but by the tenth shot, I’m past my limit.
I feel sick. Dizzy. The room is spinning, and I see double when my eyes land on Cody. He’s not as drunk even though he drank almost twice as much. No wonder. He’s twice my size at least, that huge tank-like body of his soaking up the alcohol much better than mine.
