Page 62 of Every Broken Thing

“Shots!” Kim cried, raising a nearly empty bottle of tequila. “We’re doing shots.”

I stepped back to give them room at the kitchen island to line them up, but Kim grabbed my arm in her vice-like grip. “Uh-uh, you’re doing a shot with us.”

“No, I’m good, Kim.”

“Please?” She leaned in until her breasts squished against my chest. “Please, just one?”

I met Ben’s eyes fleetingly, and he was smirking. He shrugged, like it wouldn’t bother him if I did. One couldn’t hurt, and I didn’t want to be a complete spoil sport.

“Only one,” I said sternly, and she cheered.

Jordan lined up the shot glasses and the limes, but before he could pour the tequila, Caroline screeched, “Wait!”

We all turned to her as she giggled out, “We should do body shots!”

My mortified, “No!” was lost to the avid cheers of everyone else.

“Ben!” Kim made grabby hands at Ben. “Ben, you’re hot. Come let us do body shots off you.”

Cheeks instantly flushing red, Ben said, “What?”

“Body shots,” she said, like that explained everything. “Get over here.”

“I’m not drinking,” he said firmly, and she made a shushing noise.

“Bup, bup, bup, no talking. We only want you for your body.”

“That’s surprisingly hurtful,” he mumbled as she manhandled him until he was sitting on one of the stools.

I stared in growing horror as Kim unbuttoned the top half of his shirt and tugged it to the side, revealing his collarbones and chest. Several people hooted and wolf-whistled, but Ben simply smiled good-naturedly, even as his ears tinged pink to match his cheeks.

Dipping a finger into one of the shot glasses, Kim painted a wet stripe across his collarbone, then sprinkled salt on the path. Then, adding insult to injury, she pushed the lime wedge against his mouth. He frowned but parted his lips, holding the lime wedge between his teeth.

“Okay, Silas first,” she announced, and I blanched.

“Fuck no!” I cried, even as Caroline shoved me forward. How had she gotten behind me?

I glared at Kim, and her eyes danced with mischief. And it all clicked. She was doing this purpose. What a conniving, little—

“Just one shot,” she said, smiling sweet as honey.

Someone—Jordan, of course—started chanting my name, and total strangers took up the call, not even knowing what they were chanting about.

Ben’s hands had tightened on his knees, knuckles white, veins pushing against his skin. His face was unreadable, but his eyes? The waves within them were crashing and swirling.

I opened my mouth to say, in no uncertain terms, that I was not going to put my mouth on any part of Ben, but he spoke first.

Popping the lime out of his mouth, he said, voice quiet and steady, “You don’t have to do this.”

“Neither do you,” I said, because this was just as awkward for him, right?

He had the audacity to shrug nonchalantly. “It’s just a game.”

And the little fire in my chest that I’d been secretly, lovingly tending snuffed out. Because of course this was just a game to him. He didn’t feel what I felt, and God, it hurt. Ithurt.

“Right,” I said, blanking out my face. “Just a game.”

I wasn’t sure why I did what I did next. All I knew was that I was hurt and a little angry, and Ben was just sitting there like it was all some fucking joke. Well, the joke would be on him then.

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