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СКАЧАТЬ hand. She had lost control. Control of her grief, her emotions, her life.

      Enough was enough. It had been ten years. Tomorrow it would end. She would make it. Maybe finally addressing the denial and the postponed grief was a good thing. She needed to clear it from her system. She would allow herself one more night of sadness, top it off with a lot of drinking, and tomorrow she would put a stop to this once and for all. No more. Tomorrow she would take her life back.

      Her eyes scanned the pub for her other friends. Sabina and Josh were the group’s token flirts. They had captivated the room, their good looks and irresistible charm creating quite a stir. Sabina’s exotic beauty demanded attention everywhere they went.

      Josh didn’t have to move. He stood next to the bar and the women flocked all around him like vultures sinking their claws into their prey. Little did they know, Josh was far from being prey. Beware, ladies. Beware.

      When the waitress brought the appetizers to the table, Micah ordered another drink. People always said you could drown your sorrows in alcohol, and tonight seemed like a good enough time to try.

      Josh came back over to the table. “Where did everyone go?”

      “Hanna had to take a call. Sabina is over there, and Jamie left.”

      “He left?” Josh appeared to be just as upset as she was.

      “Yup.”

      “Real cool.” Josh seemed to study her. He had a way of doing that. He could have her figured out in minutes and she hated it. “What’s with you?”

      She shrugged her shoulders. There just wasn’t an easy answer. She had a tendency to bottle up her emotions, and tonight it seemed as though the bottle was full and running over.

      She envied her friends. They seemed to have their acts together, and were experiencing so much more in life than she was. She hadn’t seen it until now. Everything in her life was safe—her job, her friends. She steered away from new friendships, new relationships, new opportunities. Outside of her comfort zone she was susceptible, vulnerable. Her friends had been experiencing life while she was safe in her comfortable cocoon, far from things that could hurt her.

      Now all that she had overlooked or failed to deal with had come back to haunt her. She wanted to feel alive again, not the life of denial she had been living, but like her friends had.

      “You should probably slow down on the drinks. I’ve never seen you drink this much. I wouldn’t even know how to handle you if you got drunk.”

      Micah looked down at another empty glass. How many had it been? Who was counting, anyway? “Well, you’re about to find out. I cannot be held responsible for my actions tonight.”

      “Oh, jeez.”

      “Hey, that girl over there keeps checking you out.”

      “Yeah. So?”

      “So, I’ve seen you look at her, too. You should go talk to her.”

      “Can’t. I’m talking to you.”

      “So I’m the lucky one tonight?”

      “Guess so.” His piercing gray eyes were trained on her. Evaluating her. She must have passed. “Wanna play a game?”

      “A game?”

      “Yeah. It’s kind of a game.”

      “Like what?”

      “Let’s try and read people based off of what they’re drinking.”

      She hoped he could read the perplexity on her face. Was he being serious?

      “Come on. It will be fun.”

      “Okay. You start.”

      “Okay, see that guy over there? The one in the red shirt? Watch him. He was just looking at the list of margaritas, but put it away after he noticed the hot bartender. Fifty dollars says he orders whiskey straight.”

      “Oh, so now this is turning into a money game? Okay, you’re on.”

      Micah watched as the bartender handed the man in the red shirt a shot glass filled with amber liquid. He sat it down in front of him, where it remained untouched.

      “Why isn’t he drinking it?”

      “He can’t handle it. That’s why he was looking at the margarita list.”

      She rolled her eyes. This is dumb.

      Josh took a long draw from his beer as a beautiful woman sauntered past their table, flashing him a come-and-get-me smile. Micah sat there with her mouth hanging open at the audacity of the woman. Was Micah really so irrelevant that the woman didn’t consider her to be with Josh? She wasn’t, but still. Seriously? Josh smiled back but moved on. His eyes moved back to the bar, past the man with the untouched shot of whiskey, scanning the other patrons.

      “Okay, it’s your turn.”

      “No. I’m not any good at this.”

      “Okay...see the bombshell at the end of the bar?” Micah’s eyes narrowed as he accentuated the word bombshell. “She’s been nursing that Corona for about half an hour now. She’s alone, looking good and drinking light? I can almost guarantee that she has no intentions of leaving this bar alone tonight. She’ll start throwing them back more heavily once some guy starts buying them for her. Then she’ll pretend she doesn’t want to go anywhere, but if some lucky guy reads the signs right he’ll know that Miss Corona-with-Lime is ready to roll.”

      “You are crazy. Do you always do this?” She watched as he shrugged his broad shoulders and nursed his Sam Adams. “What about me? What do my drinks say?”

      “Well...your drinks tell me a couple of things. One, the variety of your drinks tells me that you steal people’s drinks and don’t pay for your own. And second, they say you won’t remember any of what I just said, anyway.”

      “Well, then...why don’t you go buy one for Miss Corona-with-Lime? She’s already looked over here twice.” She was feeling saucy tonight. Josh noticed. Quirked his eyebrow, and gave her a smile.

      “Someone has to keep you from making bad decisions tonight.”

      “And you’re volunteering?”

      “For now. As soon as you start to drive me nuts, I’m bailing.”

      “Good to know I have such a great friend to count on in my time of need.”

      “Any time.”

      The alcohol was definitely starting to go to her head, making her feel all tingly and disjointed. Josh was starting to look a little hazy as he sat across from her giving her the most puzzling looks. He really was beautiful, reminded her of an iron sculpture in a way—masculine, rough, hard edges, but beautiful nonetheless. Even his eyes were metallic in essence: an odd shade of gray, sometimes taking on blue, sometimes green. Women seemed to love them. She found them piercing and cold. She had always preferred blue eyes, like Drew’s were.

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