Ethan downed the drink in his hand with one gulp. Then he poured himself another.
"Martin!" Eleanor reached out to stop him.
But it was no use. He emptied one glass after another like water.
Ethan could hold his liquor—that much she knew—but not how much. All she knew was that he rarely drank, and right now, she was seriously afraid he'd drink himself into trouble.
So before he could take another sip, Eleanor suddenly snatched the glass and drank it herself.
Cough, cough, cough.
She definitely wasn't Ethan—her tolerance was practically zero.
She'd already had a couple drinks tonight, which was pushing her limit. Now she'd just thrown one back all at once, and the burn hit her hard.
Ethan held her steady. "What are you doing?"
"You're upset, aren't you? You won'
