the end of tonight’s festivities.
Crosby squeezed my shoulders like a coach getting ready to send his boxer into the ring. “Just take a sip of each. I’m not trying to get you drunk, I just want you to try something other than your boring-as-hell vodka soda.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a vodka soda. Just because it’s simple doesn’t mean it’s boring.” Crosby began massaging the muscles between my shoulder blades that had stiffened at his words. My drink choice was like the rest of my life, at least according to Crosby: boring and predictable.
Bell half-heartedly muffled a laugh. “Did you lose a bet or something?”
“Pretty much,” I grumbled. How could I explain to my best friend that I’d made a deal with the devil? Forced, new life experiences in exchange for the high of sex with Crosby. What terrified me was that it wasn’t just the sex that had helped. The numbness and dull pain had begun to slip over me as the day progressed, but when Crosby showed up in the office this evening…suddenly, everything was in technicolor again. Sure, a lot of that color was the fire of my annoyance at him, but it was so much better than the feeling of nothingness.
Ford wrapped his arms around Bell, pressing his lips to her neck. I ignored the flare of jealousy at the tender ease they shared. He drew her closer against him. “Well, I would’ve paid good money to see this, so thanks for making it happen for free.”
Ford held out a fist to Crosby, who bumped it. I growled at both of them. “I’ll dump the remnants of these drinks on your head if you’re not careful.”
Ford held up both hands as he backed up. “Been there, done that, no desire to do it again.”
Bell blushed. “Sorry about that. Again.”
I snorted. The man had deserved it. Sure, he’d made up for the pain he’d caused in the months that followed his return to Anchor, but in my book, Ford still deserved a few more dunkings. Maybe I was just the person to do it.
Crosby tightened his hold on me. “I see that evil glint in your eyes. Don’t even think about it.”
I turned to face him, giving exaggerated Bambi eyes. “Who, me?”
He shivered. “You scare me, woman.”
“Good.”
Bell clapped, bringing my attention back to her. “Okay, what are you going to try first?”
I surveyed the drinks in front of me and winced. There was every size, shape, and color, and none of them looked all that appetizing. Well, maybe the fruity one looked okay. I pointed at that one.
Bell slid it forward on the bar. “How very Sex in The City of you.”
“Cosmo?”
“Yup. I think you’ll like it.”
I lifted the martini glass, examining its contents.
Crosby let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s not going to bite you, just take a drink already.”
“I’m looking for the poison you might’ve slipped in.”
Bell laughed while Ford choked. “You two are my favorite sideshow.”
I rolled my eyes and took a sip. Sweet. Crisp. I took another drink. “This is good.”
“Told you,” Bell said.
Crosby crowded in close. “Just pace yourself, you’ve got nine others to try.”
I took another sip, a larger one this time. “I’m not a child, Crosby, I know what I can handle.”
“It’s true,” Bell chimed in. “I’ve only seen her drunk once in my entire life, and it was actually more like tipsy.”
Crosby scoffed. “Come on, you must have had at least one college bender.”
“Not really my scene.” I’d spent most of my college years trying not to let grief swallow me whole. I’d seen what happened when you used alcohol to numb your pain—it became a crutch while it wrecked your life from the inside out. So, I’d stayed busy. Taking as many classes as I could handle, getting a part-time job. The only thing I’d drawn the line at was joining clubs. I wasn’t exactly a group activities kind of person. I’d stuck close to my comforting circle of Bell and Caelyn, and when Caelyn had to drop out at the end of our junior year to take care of her siblings, it had just been Bell and me. I’d been more than fine with that. I didn’t need a bunch of casual acquaintances. I only needed my tight-knit crew of three.
“Kenna?”
I started at the sound of Bell’s voice. “Sorry, what?”
Concern flashed across her features, and I fought the urge to wince. The last thing I needed was Bell worried and hovering.
“Which drink do you want to try next?” she