Page 12 of Envy
Tempest frowns as the music shifts, sensing the lie. Weaving her fingers through mine, she drags me after her, navigating through swaying bodies as the next song starts.
“Where are we going?” I ask, doing my best to avoid those in her path, but I have my answer when the sea of bodies ends and a crowded bar appears.
“This is our first night out,” Tempest replies, finally turning to me as we hit the back of the waiting crowd. “I thought this club would be modest enough?—”
“Modest?” I sputter, eyes wide.
She offers me a pitying smile as my cheeks flame—one that has me wishing I’d worn the corset she originally picked out just to prove there’s more to me than the prissy, uptight girl everyone sees.
“You need a drink,” Tempest says. “So do I. It’ll loosen both of us up. Maybe we can even find someone to dance with.”
“I don’t know,” I say, worrying my lip as we’re ushered closer to the bar.
It’s not that I don’t want to break out of my comfort zone, but I’ve only ever lived within the bars constructed for me. Iwas told I’m worthless if someone thinks I’m a slut—regardless of whether it’s true. Rumors can be just as damaging as actions. More so sometimes. Even though I know logically that’s bullshit, my stomach still twists.
Tempest wiggles through the last of the crowd, smiling widely and pressing her breasts out to get the bartender’s attention. His brown eyes snag on the slope of her chest, and the mesh rhinestones glinting in the dim light.
He leans forward, and I watch, awestruck, as Tempest presses up on the bar to whisper in his ear. “I’ll have a shot of tequila—the most expensive you have—and my friend will have…”
Her perfectly lined eyes land on me, waiting for an answer. I open my mouth, close it, swallow down the panic building in my chest, and try again.
“The same,” I mutter, realizing I don’t know the names of any drinks. Tempest’s frown flickers for a moment as the bartender nods. “But not the most expensive,” I add, thinking of the credit card tucked in my bra. “Just a cheap one.”
The bartender looks to Tempest, lifting a brow. She shakes her head, handing over a heavy-looking card. “Two of the same, please. I can’t have her suffering a horrible hangover on our first night out.”
“Coming right up.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I say, even as I take the first unencumbered breath of the night.
“Money isn’t a concern,” Tempest replies, flashing me a bright smile as our shots arrive.
My brows furrow as I take in the small glass rimmed with salt and topped with a lime slice. She grins, handing one to me before picking up the lime. “Lick the edge of salt, swallow, and then bite. Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” I say, steadying my breath as I mimic her movements.
“Cheers.”
The bite of salt is cut with the burn of alcohol. It sears the back of my throat, causing me to cough, but I do my best to drink the entire thing. I make the mistake of trying to breathe before sucking on the lime, sputtering half the liquid as I bite. But then the bitter juice dulls the fire, and the lingering taste isn’t half bad.
“They get easier the more you do.” Tempest laughs at the grimace contorting my face, reaching to pick up the shot glass I’d just set down and finishing off the rest. She raises her hand to signal the bartender. “One more?”
I shake my head, already noticing a fuzzy feeling starting in my chest. I’ve never tasted alcohol before this, but I’ve heard enough to know I don’t want to end up drunk or at the mercy of others.
“Even an alcohol novice won’t get drunk off two shots. Tipsy, maybe, but not black-out drunk,” Tempest explains as if hearing my concerns. “If you don’t want it, I’ll happily finished it for you, but you’re safe here. Even if you were completely wasted or decided to hook up with someone, no one would dare harm you.”
My eyes widen as I follow her gaze to a pair of men at the other side of the bar. The taller one is staring at Tempest with blue eyes and a cocky smirk. His light brown hair is shaggy, styled in an unkempt sort of way, and the dark tapestry of tattoos covering his forearms shifts as he takes a sip of beer. But it’s the shorter, stockier man next to him who leaves me fumbling for words.
Hooded blue eyes a few shades darker than his friend’s are fixed on me as he grins over a glass of amber liquid. His arms are ridiculously bulky, almost to the point of being obnoxious. A short nose and buzzed dirty blonde hair are offset by a wicked grin that has the girls around us giggling as he lifts his glass in our—my—direction.
“They seem… nice,” I mutter, feeling self-conscious as the second round of tequila arrives.
“They seem horny,” Tempest corrects, holding the glass out for me as a blush steals across my cheeks. “Don’t feel pressured. Sorry if I’m way off here, but I get the feeling you’ve been forced into a certain lifestyle. But you’re here now—free to be whoever you want.”
Tempest peeks over her shoulder and squeals. “Oh my god, they’re coming over!” Her voice pitches with excitement as she schools her features into a mask of cool disinterest. She holds the glass out, multicolored lights glinting off the rim as a song with a quicker beat starts. “Now or next time, Evie?”
Tearing my gaze away from the hulking pair headed straight for us, I take a deep breath and toss back the shot.
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