When I was a junior in high school, Bobby Herron and I were making out behind the gym after school. I was inexperienced and he was a popular football player. Things got hot and heavy, but the minute he put my hand on his cock, I started laughing. I didn’t mean to. I was just fucking nervous as hell. Yeah. The guy every girl wants to be with and I laugh at his dick. Try coming back from that one. Guess how many dates I got after that?
“Come on, Laken. You’re a college girl. You’re telling me you can’t handle your liquor?” Niall’s smile hasn’t faded and he places his hand on my knee and squeezes.
Screw you, Bobby Herron.
I raise my chin in response to his challenge. “I don’t drink much. When I’m not at school or studying, I’m with Preston.”
Before I say anymore, Molly sashays her ass back over to the table with our drinks. I stare holes into her skimpy outfit and wonder what the maximum sentence in New York for justifiable homicide is as she hands Niall his drink and winks, brushing her hand with his. As I open my mouth to warn her if she touches him again, she’s going to pull back a nub, she hands me some fruity pink drink in a martini glass.
I glance up at her and frown. “I didn’t order this.”
Molly swivels around and points to one of the crowded barstools at the front of the bar. “I know. He did.”
My eyes follow her pointed finger and land on the same guy from before. The one at the barstool who obviously has no regard for the sanctity of marriage.
Yes, I know. Hypocrite, party of one, your table is now available. That’s like the toilet calling the outhouse full of shit. I get it.
Glancing over his shoulder, Niall lets out an aggravated groan. “Feckin’ arsehole.” Pressing his lips in a tight line, he furrows his brows and tenses every muscle in his upper body as he pushes the drink back toward Molly. “Send it back. She doesn’t want it.”
Something in my chest expands. Pride? Independence? An acute inability to shut my mouth? “Excuse me? I think I can answer for myself,” I fire back.
“Yes, and as your future husband, so can I. This bar is down the street from Tate & Cane, Laken. How will it look if you accept drinks from other men while wearing my ring?” Placing the drink on Molly’s tray, he dismisses her and hands me my beer while raising his. “To the future Mrs. Mackay.”
He chuckles as if we didn’t just have some sort of minor standoff concerning our fake marriage and my fake rights as his fake wife. I sigh, wondering if achieving my dream this way is even worth it. “Cavanaugh-Mackay,” I mumble as I take a small sip of the thick, dark beer, immediately coughing and spitting it out.
“Are you all right?” he asks, trying and failing miserably not to laugh.
“This tastes like shit!” I blurt out. “What the hell kind of beer is this?”
It does. Ugh. It’s wet and heavy and honestly tastes like a soggy scrap of molded bread. I don’t want to be rude, but holy hell, I’d rather suck on battery acid.
Niall’s eyes crinkle at the corners, his laughter finally getting the best of him. “It’s Guinness, a nice pint of the black stuff. Official drink of Ireland.”
“It’s black, all right.” I wrinkle my nose and push the offending glass away.
Still grinning, he takes a hefty drink from his own glass and smiles. “I thought all college girls were connoisseurs of this stuff?”
“I told you, college girl, not party girl, Niall. I have to keep my head on straight. One wrong move can affect a lot of people, not to mention my future.”
He puts his glass down and gives me an inquisitive look. “Well, you can’t say shite like that and not follow it up.”
“What is this, twenty questions?”
“Why, do you have some deep, dark secrets you’re trying to hide?”
You have no idea.
I shrug and try to feign innocence. “What do you want to know?”
He studies me before speaking again. “Two truths, one lie.”
Oh shit. I can feel my face fall, positive that I’m busted. “What?”
He motions to the whiskey. “Two truths, one lie. It’s a drinking game my friends and I used to play all the time back in Dublin. I’ll give you three statements, and you tell me which one is the lie. If you guess correctly, I have to down a shot.”
Okay, seems harmless enough. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”
He holds up a finger and smirks. “But if you’re wrong, you have to slam one.” Leaning in close, he brushes a stray hair off my cheek. “And just so you know, I play to win, Laken. You should know this about me.”
