Page 10 of Degrading Her

I glanced at my parents. “You know how they are,” I said quietly.

My parents had never liked Bambi, but that didn’t stop her from talking to me or my middle sister. She patted me on the back. “Let’s get you a drink.”

I shook my head. “I don’t like beer.”

She pulled me toward the open bar. “And you’re not going to drink beer. You like cocktails, right?”

“Sure,” I said. The last time I had one, five years ago now, I had blacked out and probably made an ass of myself. I was good at thinking ahead, butnotthat great at keeping track of how much I had consumed when it came to alcohol. The fact that cocktails tasted good didn’t help.

“Then take a shot with me.” Bambi waved at the bartender. “Two vodka shots and orange juice backs. Thanks.” She handed over a large tip, then handed the shot to me. “Let’s celebrate. Your sister found someone to love, and here we are, drinking in her honor. I never thought I’d be able to come to a party like this and actually get to have fun.” She shoved the chaser glass of orange juice in my hand. “To new beginnings: your sister’s marriage, my managerial position at the Trap,and,” she winked, “your future library.”

“To new beginnings,” I said. We clinked glasses and chugged the drinks. Then I ordered myself soda water with lime and a splash of ginger ale.

“Does that have vodka in it?” Bambi asked. A server passed us and Bambi forgot her question and quickly snaked two champagne flutes. “You’ve eaten dinner, right?”

“I—”

She handed me the flute. “Drink this.” She batted her eyelashes at me. “I swear it tastes good.”

I took a sip. It was sweet and dry. “It’s not bad.”

“It’s your sister’s anniversary party.” She shoved my shoulder. “Drink it like you mean it.”

And why couldn’t I have a night off? I could study tomorrow.

Screw it.

I tipped the champagne flute, swallowing as much as I could. The bubbly liquid trickled down my throat, my face scrunching up at the taste. But I finished the glass.

“Yes!” Bambi hollered. “Now, dance with me.”

“Hah! That’s where I draw the line.”

“Get another glass! You’ll change your mind.”

She slinked off to the dance floor, and I wandered to a tall standing table. Blue-Gray Eyes wasstillstaring at me. I traded the soda water for a second glass of champagne off of a passing tray, gulping half of it down. I crossed my arms.

“Slow down there,” my middle sister, Maisie, said. “When was the last time you drank that much?”

When we were in high school, she drank a lot. But me, the oldest sister? I had waited until college, like a rule follower. Then I was the definition of a sloppy drunk. And that wasn’t how you got into medical school. So I stopped.

Not that it mattered now.

But Blue-Gray Eyes didn’t help my nerves either. He clearly wanted something from me. Why couldn’t he come over and say it? I wrapped my arms around myself.

“I can’t shake it,” I said, stealing a quick peek at him. “It’s like I know him.” I nodded to him as subtly as I could, trying not to make it obvious that I was talking about him to my sister. “Is he staring at me?”

Maisie glimpsed the man. “Yep. Why?”

My shoulders tensed. “Doesn’t he seem off to you?”

“You know,youseem off to me right now,” she said, tapping her chin. “What’s going on?”

I gripped the neck of the flute. His eyes burned into me. Was the alcohol making my cheeks hot, or was it him?

“I feel like I’ve met him before,” I said. “Like I know him from somewhere, you know?”

“He’s your brother-in-law. You know that, right?”

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