I propped my chin on my hand and offered Raven my widest smile. “I think we could be really good friends.”
She laughed with a loud clap. “Girl, anyone who has Brett Walker’s number is a friend of mine. Now, what can I get you?”
“Two Pussy Pounders,” Camille said.
“And the guys who’ll serve them,” I chirped in.
Raven laughed as she spun around to the liquor behind the bar. “Don’t we all want that?” Quick as lightning, she grabbed two cocktail shakers. She mixed the drinks faster than I could keep up with what she was pouring into it. All I knew was that there was a lot of liquor being poured freehand into those glasses.
A lot more liquor than anything else.
Two minutes later, after some more fancy shaking stuff, she poured the contents of both shakers into two cocktail glasses over a couple of cubes of ice. Finishing with a strawberry on the edge and two red straws inside, she pushed them across the bar with a flourish.
“There. Try that,” she said to me.
I was skeptical. I was a classic cocktails only girl, but hey, I’d give it a try. So I pulled the glass close to me and sipped. Flavor exploded on my tongue, and the aftermath of the initial sweeter taste was a comfortable warmth on my tongue.
“Oh my god,” I groaned. “What is in this?”
Raven held up one hand. “Red berry vodka, strawberry liqueur, a dash of cherry sours, and lemonade. Oh. And a cheeky shot of tequila.”
“I’m moving in,” I said around the two straws between my lips. “This is the best thing ever.”
She chuckled and as she picked up the twenty-dollar bill Camille had sneakily thrown down, she winked at me. “Girl, it should be. I’m the best mixologist in the state.”
Well, then.
I could take more of these drinks.
All. Night. Long.
Two hours later, as the fairy light surrounded clock above the bar dinged eleven p.m., Camille and I fell back to our seats in a fit of laughter. The last two hours had been full of drinks, dancing, and giggles. She’d found herself with someone’s phone number brazenly slapped in her hand, while I found myself on the end of a sneaky butt pat—and a smooth transition of a scrap of paper with the hot guy’s number on.
I had no intention of calling it, but it still felt good.
The only bad thing had been the fleeting moments when I’d felt Brett’s too-hot gaze on me, but for the most part, I’d ignored that.
I sipped from my new glass of Pussy Pounder—this thing was giving my inhibitions a pounding, never mind my pussy—and put my hand over my eyes, still grinning from whatever it was that had made me laugh. Camille was doing the same.
Raven’s drinks were magical. I felt tipsy, but the good tipsy. Uncontrollable giggles and unfiltered speech kind of tipsy. I should have been much more drunk than I was, and I knew the same went for Camille.
“Ohhh.” She blew out a long breath. “That was fun.”
“Speak for yourself,” I said, dropping my hand. “I think the last time I had that much fun I was eight.”
Camille giggled. “Now you’ve had fun, tell me what’s going on with my brother.”
“Nothing is going on with your brother,” I said with a completely straight face.
“Something is going on with him.”
I rolled my eyes. “If you count his misguided attempt to get inside my Victoria Secrets, then yes, something is. For him. Not for me. All that’s going on for me is gritting teeth and bearing his bullshit.”
Camille looked at me, her lips twisted up to one side. “I don’t believe you. Before...”
“Before, yes.” I looked down at my glass and stirred my drink with my straw. “I loved him, but that was a lifetime ago. That was before he showed me who he really was and broke my heart.”
“What?”
I snapped my gaze up to her. “Nothing.”
“Lani!”
“Fine, but you promise me you don’t say anything.”
Camille waved her pinky finger at me with a soft smile. I linked mine through hers, and we shook.
“Right after graduation, I heard him talking with Stevie Lewis.” I took a deep breath. “He said some stuff about me that hurt. He has no idea I heard what he said.”
“What did he say?”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter now, but it doesn’t stop it hurting. I was more betrayed than anything. Let’s just say he’d spent a long time looking after the geeky girl only to turn around and be just like the others.”
Camille pursed her lips. “All right. Is that why you left?”
“No. I had a summer job at a paper in Scottsdale. I planned to leave a few days later anyway, but I just went sooner.”
“I wish I knew.”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Why would you know? I never said goodbye.”
“I would have cared more if I didn’t know you’d come back one day.” She smiled. “All right, I have to pee. Hold my crap.” She slid her drink over next to mine with her clutch purse and got up off the stool.
I rested my hand on her purse and looked over at the dance floor. Bodies writhed in the darker section of the bar, and I rested my cheek on my shoulder as I watched people move and dance together.
My stomach twisted. I should have told Camille to drop the line of questioning about her brother. Whatever buzz I’d had going on five minutes ago had disappeared into nothing. Now, I just felt sick. I wanted to go home and sleep.
I sat back up straight and looked at the drinks. They were almost full, but after this one, I was going home. It had been fun, but I had a lot of stuff to do tomorrow before the color run the day after, and a bunch of grandma’s stuff needed donating.
I pulled my drink toward me, but before I could sip it, it was whipped out of my hand. I snapped my head around and met Brett’s eyes. “What the hell?”
“Don’t bitch me out,” he said, his expression serious. “Thank me.”
“For taking my drink away?”
He looked at me, his eyes hard. “Lani, while you were just daydreaming and watching the dance floor, someone walked past and dropped something in your drink.”
I stared at him for a moment. “What?”
The hardness of his eyes dropped, and his lips turned down as he nodded. “In both your drinks. I’m ninety percent sure. You can’t drink this.”
I swallowed and looked at the glasses.
“Where’s Cam?”
“Bathroom.” Not only did I just feel sick, but now I felt...I don’t know. I couldn’t put it into words.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to think on it anymore, because Camille returned.
“Where’s Raven?” he asked her straight away.
Camille pushed her hair from her face. “Behind the bar. Why?”
He disappeared with both of our glasses without answering her.
I explained to her what he just told me. She grabbed her purse, and we pushed our way through to where Brett was flagging Raven down. She held up her finger and finished serving someone before she came down.
“What’s up?”
Brett put the two glasses down on the bar. “They just got spiked.”
Raven’s smile dropped, forcing her lips into a thin line. “You’re sure?”
He nodded.