I wasn’t good at making drinks, much to Carson’s delight. I have always had poor coordination, so anything that required shaking in a tumbler, I was spilling all over the place. Several of the drinks required thinning using a strainer that was meant to be held in the same hand as the tumbler, but I could barely hold it with two hands. Lastly, there was the salting or sugaring of glass rims, which for some reason just didn’t work for me. It wouldn’t stick to the glass, looked spotty when I did it, and I kept mixing up which ones needed which rims.
“Alright!” Mamie clapped her hands. “Now that you’ve all got the hang of it and had a bite to eat, why don’t we have a bit of friendly competition?”
Carson leaned over towards me. His dusky cologne filled my nostrils and threatened to send me away from my resolve not to pounce. “I wouldn’t classify what you do as ‘having the hang of it.’”
I elbowed him gently, a snicker slipping out. “Shut up.”
“I’m going to draw the name of one of the drinks we’ve learned tonight from my martini glass at random.” She held up a martini glass with folded slips of paper in it. “Once I say the name, you and your partner work together to get the drink crafted as quickly, but as accurately as possible. Once you’re done, applaud your work, and I’ll come over for a taste test. The first pair to three points, designated by finishing first and tasting of passable quality, will win a gift certificate for our partner restaurant in downtown Las Vegas.”
To say we lost this competition would be a severe understatement, we didn’t even get through the first drink. Carson did most of the work, but left it up to me to sugar the rim of the glass. As I was dipping the glass into the sugar, hoping for my first success of the evening, I dropped the glass. Not enough to break it, but enough to catch the edge of the tray the sugar was on and flip it, sending it all over me.
Carson let out a full, boisterous laugh. He set the tumbler down on the counter, flipped the tray back over, pulled the glass from my hand, and doubled over on our workstation, laughing so hard it dragged the attention of others.
I laughed along. “Shut up, you ass.”
Carson picked up a towel and handed it over to me, tears in his eyes. “Here.”
I tried to wipe myself off, but the sugar was everywhere, already settling into the fabric of my blouse. “I’m having a blast, really, but I officially need to get this off.”
Carson looked at me dead-pan. “I’m in.”
I shoved him. “Stop. Come on.”
We waved goodbye to the people we’d gotten to know over the course of the class, thanked Mamie, including Carson apologizing for the way he behaved in the beginning, and left. He drove me home and when he climbed out of the driver’s side of the car, I didn’t protest. He opened my car door, a new chuckle rising when he saw me covered in sugar again. I just laughed along as I climbed out. I led him up to my apartment, and entered, hoping he would walk in behind me, but was actually a little relieved when he didn’t.
I turned around and smiled. “I had fun tonight.”
He nodded. “I’m glad. So did I.”
“Thank you for being honest with me about that stuff with your ex. I appreciate your honesty. I feel like I know you much better now,” I said.
He stood staring at me for a moment and then finally he leaned down, wrapped his hand around my back and pulled me into him. I expected him to go for a kiss, but instead, he hugged me. My heart started pounding. It seemed so much more intimate, and as a result, much scarier. As he pulled away, it was I that hung on tight, keeping his nose hovering just centimeters from mine.
Shit. I was so close.
After Ryland and Ian and especially after learning Carson was still getting over his ex, I was going to be good, but with him so close to me, his cologne beckoning to me like one of those smoke fingers from a cartoon, and just his general broad shoulders, smoldering face sexiness, I lost all my willpower to keep myself off of him. Carson closed the distance and kissed me and I backed into my apartment, taking him with me. Our movements were hurried and desperate, the culmination of spending the night dancing around our attraction to one another, mixed with the liquor from the class. He undid my blouse and I threw off his jacket, as I backed us towards my couch and we collapsed down onto it. He tossed my shirt aside and then kissed along my breasts before biting the front clasp to my bra to snap it free.