Page 101 of Bad Crush
When we’re set to go again, we attract an audience. The guys on the team who are still at the bar crowd around, which pulls the attention of everyone else.
“Mav! Mav! Mav!” they chant as he selects the first shot.
It goes quiet as he brings it to his lips. He smiles and wipes the back of his mouth. “White wine. Nice, Scott. Classy choice.”
I smirk.
The bar gets noisy again. Maverick eats up the attention, hopping around and making a big show out of trying to decide which shot to take next.
“Which one?” he asks the bartender.
“Oh no.” She holds her hands up. “You’re on your own.”
“How fucked am I if I choose wrong?”
Her eyes flit to me, and she grins. “Pretty fucked. Sorry.”
That makes everyone howl with laughter. He exhales a breath that puffs out his cheeks and grabs the shot glass on the left, tosses it back quickly. I don’t know which shot is which at this point, so I’m waiting to see his reaction just like everyone else.
He lifts his hands overhead in victory. “Coconut vodka!”
Excited cheers ring out. A few people slap my back, commiserating.Oh shit.
The bartender laughs. “Looks like you’re the one that’s fucked.”
Maverick sniffs the remaining glass before handing it over. “What is it?”
“Rum and tequila,” I mutter before shooting it. It burns all the way down, and I cough.
Maverick slings an arm around my neck. “You’re fucking crazy, Scott.”
We stay away from shots after that, but Maverick and I linger until we’re the last guys on the team at the bar. Ann, the bartender, is closing out tabs, and servers are wiping tables.
“Another?” I ask him, lifting my almost empty glass.
He shakes his head. “You outdrank me. Congratulations.”
“Do you guys have a ride?” Ann asks.
I feel around for my phone. I haven’t touched it all night, but it’s there in my front pocket. “I’ll grab us an Uber.”
Mav puts some cash in the tip jar and stands. “I already texted Dakota. She’s coming to get us.”
“Dakota?” My mouth goes dry.
“Reagan isn’t with her.”
“I wasn’t…” I start.
Mav chuckles. “Come on, Scott. It’s been a long night.”
I sway on my feet. My buddy is quick to grab an arm and steady me.
“Not so sure out drinking you was a good idea.”
“That’s what the last guy said. Then he kissed me.”
I lift my head, which has suddenly become really heavy, to check to see if he’s serious. That’s the thing about Maverick. He never seems serious, but I’ve never known him to lie or exaggerate either. He’s unfiltered and honest, but the dude’s fucking crazy too, so his truths always feel a little ridiculous.
