Where We Meet Again, стр. 50
“What?” Rhett laughs, then sits back as the waiter returns to deliver our drinks. “What does someone even do for that?”
“A lot of times it’s drugs or alcohol, so the cops will check the person out for that. Although, there are times it’s just some random, impulsive person who felt like having a little fun. They most likely get told to go home with a warning.” Kiersten picks up her mule for a long drink. “Oh, it’s so good.”
I agree after a long drink of my own. There’s nothing like a perfect mule. Cold, refreshing, with that coppery bite from the mule mug.
“Last week, there was a call that someone had stolen the driver’s side door off some guy’s truck. And there’s this repeat caller who always thinks someone’s out to get him. He’s been known to put booby traps around his residence.”
“What did he call for this time?” Nathan asks as he passes around shots and limes. I snag two glasses and he raises his brows at me, so I stick my tongue out at him. Then I pile two limes on my napkin.
“Mmm.” She swallows her drink and sets it down, excitement shining in her eyes. “He thought someone had the blueprints to his house and was digging a tunnel for access.”
“Holy fuck. That’s crazy. Who are these looney tunes so I can avoid them?” Rhett jokes.
“Sorry, buddy. That’s privileged information.” She wears a wide smile of her own.
“What is it you do?” I ask him. I know him by name from stories Nathan’s told, but other than that, this is my first time meeting him.
He looks uncomfortable with my question. “I run a pest control business.”
Kiersten and I turn to each other at the same time. My eyes slide away first. “In town?”
“Yup. Chuck’s Exterminator. Chuck was my grandfather.”
The problem with small towns is everybody is connected. In short, Nathan’s good friend is also a good friend of Law’s. Can my world get any crazier?
Nathan lifts his glass and nudges me with his elbow. “All right, kids. Those of you brave enough to embark on this drinking quest, raise your glass.”
The three of us comply, raising our shots to meet at the center of the table.
“To letting go of the past,” Nathan shouts, his eyes sliding to glance at me. “To new friends, and a new year full of fresh beginnings. To love. And second chances. To trying something new and rekindling something you used to enjoy. Most importantly, to us. Family. Good health. And friends.”
A lump of emotion swells in my throat. In so many ways, his words ring true to all the different aspects of my life. He and I. Law and me. Evelyn, Kiersten, and my life in Arrow Creek. Moving on from the shame and guilt of my past and learning to forgive myself. Opening up to a happy future, one I’ve worked toward and deserve.
“Here!” Rhett cheers, and we all clank.
As I lick the salt, I don’t miss the way Kiersten stares at Rhett while her tongue swipes her hand. Total flirt. She’s so going to home with him tonight.
We take down the tequila together. It burns, but slides down smooth, and I shove a lime slice in my mouth. After the first, we take the second, and a chorus of glasses thud against the wood table.
“Enough of that. I need to go nurse my mule or I’m not going to make it past ten o’clock.” I chase the tequila with my other drink.
“Amateur.” Rhett throws in with a smile.
“Should we dance?” Kiersten frames it like a question, but she’s already out of her seat and swinging her hips to the tempo.
My head swims with the amount of alcohol I’ve already drunk. Food would be good. A waiter walks by with a plate of wings at that precise moment, and my mouth waters. “I’m going to get a bite to eat. Then I’ll join you.”
She gives a one-shouldered shrug. “Suit yourself. I’ll be over there by myself, if anyone wants to join me.” She looks pointedly at Rhett. With a sway of her hips, she saunters away.
“Uh, yep.” Rhett slaps down a wad of bills on the table. “That should cover the drinks. Order me a plate of mozzarella sticks. I’m going to dance.” He wags his eyebrows at us before he follows my best friend.
I throw my hand in the air to flag down our waiter and place an order, a double order of boneless buffalo wings and an order of mozzarella sticks, and turn to Nathan with a sip of my drink. After I swallow, I lick my lips.
I don’t miss the way his eyes darken and follow my tongue across my lower lip. Crap. That wasn’t my intention at all.
“What do you think the chances are they don’t come back?”
His eyes shoot back to mine. He grins and takes a sip of the gin and tonic the waiter just delivered to him. “Hell if I care. Free motzy sticks.”
Besides his subtle flirting, I’m happy he keeps the conversation light. We laugh a lot and joke over drinks. I end up with one more Moscow mule before ladies’ hour is over.
By ten o’clock, after devouring a half a plate of wings, I’m officially drunk.
Drunk, not sloshed. Definitely not hammered.
“I’m going to the restroom and then to find Kiersten.”
Vodka always does me in. There’s always that moment between sucking down drinks and standing for the first time where everything is fine. I feel tingly and numb, but my limbs still move like I want them to.
Until I stand.
Drunk skips toward wasted.
As past excursions would predict, the second my feet hit the floor and I push myself out of the booth, I stumble on my skinny heels. Nathan’s hand catches me by the inside of my elbow, and he uses his grip to make room to follow me out