Amber
The bartender came back a few minutes later with another round. He grinned and said, “Try this one. s*x on the Beach. House specialty.”
I hesitated. “Is it alcoholic?”
“It tastes like a beach vacation,” he said, winking.
It did taste like vacation. I couldn’t taste the alcohol at all.
One glass down. Then another half.
And then the room started spinning.
I was seeing double. Laughing for no reason. Every time Ian said something, I giggled like a maniac and covered my mouth. I vaguely remembered Ian turning to the bartender and snapping, “She said no alcohol!” and then yanking the glass out of my hand.
“Alright, lightweight,” he said, standing and offering me his hand, “time to go home.”
“But we didn’t dance yet,” I whined, wobbling as I tried to sway to the beat. “Come onnn
