Page 32 of On The Rocks

The crowd clapped as she flicked off another metal shaker to Dean, who caught it, flipping it on top of his head to balance it before catching his own two bottles. He didn’t have as much flourish as Lennon, but she had at least eight years of training on him.

“Thanks, everyone. Last call is in thirty minutes.” Her husky voice washed over the room and skidded right into my chest with a punch.

I stood up to clap with the rest of people and had to grab the booth. Most of the crowd dissipated back to tables or outside for a bit of fresh air. I took my hefty glass of moonshine with me as I threaded between people to get to the bar.

Lennon was a bit flushed from performing, and one of her braids was fraying.

Her coffee and cream skin was on display, thanks to her black vest over a series of layered tank tops ending with slim black jeans that hugged her perfectly.

Goddamn, she was beautiful.

There was far too much alcohol fizzing through my veins. The smart thing would be to slip out and walk it off, but instead, I found myself sitting at a stool that had just been vacated.

I laced my fingers around my glass and leaned forward. I didn’t trust myself not to do something stupid.

Well, more stupid than coming over there when I was half-cocked.

I took another sip from the far-too-smooth moonshine. The honey and pears warmed me from the inside out. I lowered my chin to rest on the top of my glass. “Hi.”

Lennon was stacking glasses in the dishwasher rack. “Hello, yourself.” She dipped her gaze to my glass. “You drinking contraband in my bar?”

“Maybe. Technically.” I huffed out a breath. “Hayes made me do it.”

Her eyebrow arched. “Is that right?”

“Well, not made me. But he encourages—er, encouraged me.” I swallowed down a hiccup. Blast them.

“You’re a big boy.” She loaded the rack into the machine and slammed the door. “Very big,” she muttered.

I sat up straight. “You think I’m too big?” I frowned. “I’m not that big. Am I? I mean maybe some of me.”

Both her eyebrows went skyward.

I snickered and waved. “These big mitts. But maybe it correlates. I haven’t had any complaints.”

I blew raspberries again. “I’m not that drunk. I don’t think.” I dropped my other foot to the floor since the room was tilting a bit. Maybe I was a little more drunk than I’d thought. “Sneaky pears,” I mumbled.

Lennon took the glass from me.

“Hey, I wasn’t done with that.”

She took a whiff and frowned. “That smells like honey and pears, but not a lick of booze.”

“Sneaky.” I collapsed into the seat again. Way too much tilting.

“The way you’re listing, I bet I could light this shit on fire.”

“Fire!” I laughed. “You look really cool when you do the flippy things with the fire. Like you did last year.” I pointed outside. “Hawaii.”

She laughed. “The bachelorette party.”

I nodded. “That one.”

She glanced around the bar. “Where is Hayes?”

“Don’t know.” I glanced over at the booth we’d been at. “Don’t see him.”

“And Laverne?”

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