A different cocktail awaits us at each place setting.
I stop a few paces away from the table. Now that we put time between the impromptu lust of the night before, does she need to get drunk to have another go? Hope sinks away from me. I replay my words from earlier.
How many of those are drunken college situations?
I can’t be a regret.
“Drinks…that’s a surprise.”
“Tell me what you think. We can share. And give me your honest feedback on how I did.”
Share? Honest feedback on how she did?
Carson picks up what appears to be a martini garnished with lemon.
“Wait.”
His hand halts midway to his mouth.
“Why did you make drinks?” Barring the obvious…adults tend to enjoy them.
“I’m practicing my mixology skills.” She lifts a jigger. “I bought a few things this afternoon so I could outfit your kitchen to mix drinks, and I want you guys to be honest. I know there’s more to bartending than mixing drinks, but I have to start somewhere.”
“You’re studying to be a bartender?” Carson asks bluntly.
Her smile fades. “The hours won’t interfere with other jobs or classes and I should be able to make good money. My friend, Mammoth is a bartender. He said he could hire me.”
“Guys will be hitting on you.” He doesn’t let up. Fuck. Why am I pretending there’s any way this can work?
“I suppose.”
“I don’t like that.” He sets the glass down.
She stares at him curiously as he stalks toward her.
He pins her against the counter, his hands on either side.
“You can’t know you don’t like it, you didn’t even try it,” she teases.
I love watching Carson be so dominant. Is it weird that I’m turned on by their interaction?
The growl in his tone is even better. “I don’t like guys hitting on you.”
“It wouldn’t mean anything.”
“It would to them. I know what would be going on in their minds.”
“Oh really?”
Damn. This is our chance to let this evening happen naturally. No alcohol-reduced inhibitions. She’s either in this or not. I rush beside them.
I tuck a finger under her chin, angling her face to mine. “Most guys wouldn’t be willing to stop and give you time to make sure you’re not making a decision that you’ll regret later.”
“I didn’t ask for time, you did.”
“He did because he’s a gentleman.” Carson defends me.
My phone buzzes…my sister, Natalie. Perhaps it’s guilt that makes me take the call, but I tell her now’s not a good time, and return my attention to the immediate situation. Nothing can mar this evening. I step back to Zoe and Carson.