Page 26 of All at Once

I chuckle nervously. “Another great point.”

“Honestly, it’s just clothes. I’ll wash the liquor off.” He grins knowingly. “At least now we know you’re not inconsiderate. Just horrendously clumsy.”

It’s odd Luca’s not frustrated the way he was when I first spilled drinks on him, now wondering if he was already annoyed at something else that day. I quickly fix my posture when I remember the drink I ordered. “Wait that was just ice water with a mint garnish in it,” I explain, pointing toward my now empty glass.

His brows furrow. “You said you came here to get a drink.”

“Yeah, I did. I ordered a virgin mojito. Just without the lime juice, syrup, and club soda.”

“So you orderedwater?” he questions with a mocking flourish ofhis hand.

“With a mint garnish,” I add as if that makes any difference.

Either he’s delirious, or I’m hilarious. While the one shot I had earlier was pretty strong, it shouldn’t be enough to cloud my judgement into beingthisturned on by his laugh. It’s probably just the side effects from grinding with his best friend earlier.

Luca looks at the glass and says knowingly, “I take it you’re not a big drinker?”

“Actually? I think it tastesterrible. When I had my first shot in college, I genuinely thought someone tried to poison me.” He looks confused and amused at the same time, while I try to rationalize my description, “My throat felt like it was on fire. And not in like a good hot Cheetos kind of way.” He smiles at my comparison of liquor to the spicy snack. “I couldn’t believe this is what people liked. And most people’s response to me at the party was, ‘oh we don’t like it for the taste, we just like how it makes us feel,’ and I’m like no thanks, I’m already all over the place as it is. I don’t need alcohol for that.”

He holds back another smile, gesturing at me. “You’respot onwith that last part.”

I glare at him. “Really?”

“What? I’m only agreeing with you.” He shrugs. “I understand everything though. It’s definitely an acquired taste. I don’t think anyone who first drank pure vodka said, ‘wow this is delightful.’”

“True,” I say. “Lately I’m also getting into trying fruitier drinks, but the less alcohol in them the better, personally.”

“I don’t mind those as well. In general I don’t drink often. But there are certain ones that I look forward to having,” he replies. “A virgin mojito is next on my list, though. Preferably one without most of the ingredients.” He points toward my glass facetiously. “Extragarnish.”

I feign laughter. “You know Luca? You’resofunny. Please go on.”

His lips curve to the side. “So what made you upset enough to leave such an exciting game?” he shifts back to the topic I so desperately don’t want to talk about.

Even though I know that I’m not going to answer his question with the full truth since that would mean revealing the zero-experience part, I’m happy he asks it so that I have someone to vent to. “Enrique cancelled our dinner plans,” I explain, “said he had to fill in for someone.” I overestimate the magnitude of my story after seeing how underwhelmed Luca looks.

“You didn’t seem too upset when you two were dancing.” He doesn’t say this maliciously, instead more to point out the obvious.

Yet I still flush at the knowledge that he was watching me dance.

“You were watching?” I voice out loud.

“Believe me, I was trying my best not to,” he replies, raising his brows with distaste. “Enrique is really busy, and his parents expect a lot from him.”

I can’t deny that it’s attractive how he defends his friend. Even if it’s tomydisadvantage.

“I understand that,” I say. “But he still had enough energy to go to a club.”

Luca replies, “He made these plans weeks ago.”

He did?

I knew Enrique mentioned how he was planning on going tonight from before, but I assumed he meant alone. Now it makes sense why his friends were included if he invited them earlier. At least he could havecommunicatedthis with me. My frustration doesn’t disappear after hearing this though. And since I couldn’t exactly express my feelings to Enrique about this earlier, Icontinue, “I guess I thought he’d be more excited to spend time with me.”

“How do you know he’s not? You just got here,” Luca rationalizes.

My real expectations take over. “He didn’t even ask if I wanted to have dinner later.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “You wanted him to take you on a date in the middle of the night?”

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