Page 7 of Give Me Love

It’s unnerving, yet for some reason I can’t look away.

My smile falls and my brow quirks, noticing the slightest bit of interest flash like lightning in his stormy eyes. Dark stubble shadows his face, and his hair is buzzed short. The suit fits him well. Jesus, he’s gorgeous.

“Take the shot, Kat,” Claire says, interrupting my watching.

My eyes shoot to her pinched face. Austin tips his beer and I throw the shot back, wincing at the harsh taste. When I look again, the suit is no longer there.

________

I’m the complete opposite of sober, and Claire is leaning, swaying, and lazy-eyed. Shots line the bar. Six for me and six for her. First to take all gets to drive Austin’s 1970 Chevy Chevelle on the outside of town. I bend my toes around the barstool and lean up.

“Okay?” I say to Claire.

“Never been better,” she replies with a drunk smile.

“One, two, go!” Austin says, hitting the bar with his closed fist, vibrating the liquid in the tiny glasses.

I pick up the first, hurriedly spilling liquor onto my hand before throwing it back, then the second. The third doesn’t want to go down as smoothly as the others, and I take a minute to swallow. Behind closed lids, my eyes water and I blow air from my cheeks. Oh hell, I’m not sure this was the best idea.

Claire slams her last shot glass down and throws her balled fist in the air in victory.

“I won.” Laugh lines crease around her eyes, and I shake my head in disbelief.

“How in the hell did you get through all of them?”

Claire grins. “College, Kat.” Twisting in her seat, she yells over at the bartender, “Yo, can a girl get a beer? I want a can, please.” She turns to Austin. “Austin, you bring your knife?”

“You’re not shotgunning a beer in here,” he says.

“Don’t be a party pooper.” She slaps his arm playfully.

I didn’t have the luxury to party in college. When you’re putting yourself through school and working as much as possible, you don’t have money for drinking or time for hangovers.

I laugh at her pout when the bartender tells her no cans. “Claire, you can’t shotgun a beer in a fancy club like this.”

“Well, you shouldn’t go around barefoot either, but you’ve been doing that for the last hour,” she throws back.

A giggle slips through my lips, followed by a hiccup, which makes me laugh more when I peer down at my feet. “Touché.”

“Oh shit,” she says, holding her mouth.

My eyes shoot back to her. “What?”

With watery eyes and a pale complexion, college party girl jumps up and runs to the bathroom.

I lift my brow at Austin who sighs. “Never can hold her liquor.”

I groan, sliding off the barstool with what I think is easy grace, but Austin looks at me as if that’s not the case.

“You’re not gonna puke, too, are you?”

“I’m not drunk,” I say, feeling my body betray me as it sways. I grip onto the bar.

“Right.” He folds his lips and nods.

“Okay. Just a little.” I pinch the air.

He chuckles.

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