Page 54 of When Stars Collide
“Anyone ever tell you you’re hilarious when you’ve been drinking?”
“This is my first sip, actually.” He raised his glass to his lips, smiling at me.Phineas’s eyes trailed over to the group who’d just arrived.
“Friends of yours?”
“No. I only recognize a handful of them from the building. The rest are complete strangers.”
Taking another sip of scotch, my attention joined Phineas’s to the crowd that included a gaggle of beautiful women. “You know, don’t let me stop you if there’s someone over there you want to meet.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Phin. Because you’re a single, good-looking man, and there are some presumably single and equally as good-looking women over there.”
“You think I’m good looking?”
His eyes reflected the flames from the fire pit with such smoldering intensity they took on the appearance of molten copper. All I could do was stare into their depths longer than what should have been necessary for me to form an adequate response to his question.
Say something, damn it. Preferably something indifferent. For the love of God, just quit staring at him.
“Don’t go getting a big head about it, but you’re no eyesore.”
“Coming from you, that’s quite the compliment.”
I held up my glass. “Cheers.” Following my lead, Phineas held up his glass and took a drink. “You know,” I began, after letting another round of scotch clear my throat, “you didn’t really give me a response.”
“I’m not looking for anything right now. I rather enjoy being harassed by you and everyone else who happens to notice my lack of a social life.”
“It was that bad, huh?”
He looked at me inquisitively, unsure of what I meant.
“Your breakup.”
He nodded. “It was definitely one for the record books.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He snickered. “What do you think?”
“I think I need another drink,” I answered him, throwing back the rest of my scotch.
Phineas’s jaw dropped as he watched me set the glass down on the edge of the fire pit. “Well,” he shrugged, “when in Rome.” In one smooth motion, he raised his glass to his lips, draining its contents, just as a waitress appeared at our side.
“Another one, Mr. Drake?”
“Two, actually,” he answered, nodding at me.
I waved at the waitress, who was only now noticing my existence this evening, and handed her my glass.
She smiled, looking me up and down before turning back to Phineas.“Of course.”
“Three kamikazes for each of us, please,” I ordered. Phineas nodded at her, and she left us alone once more. “See? You could leave with her right now, if you wanted to.”
“Stop it.” Even though he rolled his eyes, the corners of his lips remained upturned, his mouth revealing the smile he was trying to hide. “What’s with the shots?”
“Since I’ve opened up a little bit to you about me, and you’ve not told me much about yourself, why don’t you say we say we play a little drinking game to level the playing field?”
“A drinking game?”
