“There’s a home theater on the first floor, actually.” I was too focused on the room and missed Keller’s approach until he was right in front of us, two drinks in hand. “Ladies. I asked for something sweet, and Luke made you what he calls a porn star martini.”

I’m blushing like an idiot. Porn is another word that shouldn’t cross Keller’s lips in public.

“Oh, I know that one!” Lily says, taking her glass eagerly. “Thanks.”

The drink is orange with half an inch of foam on top. I take a tentative sip, and my eyes widen. “Oh, yum.”

“Yeah? I’m a little curious, after seeing him make it.”

“Oh, you should try!” Without thinking, I offer him my glass.

It only occurs to me that it’s an oddly intimate thing, sharing a single glass, when he’s dipping his lip in the foam. “Fuck, that’s good.”

Add fuck to the list.

He gives me back my drink. “I think I’ll order one of those.”

“Most guys wouldn’t want to walk around with a girly cocktail in hand.”

“Most guys have something to prove,” he replies, shrugging.

The implication he doesn’t is something I refuse to dwell on.

“Be careful with that; I think he put more vodka and liqueur than anything else.”

“Really?” Lily pouts. “But it tastes so good! I can’t even tell there’s any alcohol.”

“Trust me, there is. I’d better go bug Luke again.”

With his warning in mind, I make myself sip my drink slowly.

“Oh, we’ll tag along,” Lily offers.

My guess is, she’d do just about anything to avoid another chat with Cross.

“It’s pretty crazy that you guys hired a bartender for a college party. What’s wrong with punch and beer kegs?”

“Nothing, but the ladies like cocktails.” He shrugs. “Luke’s a student, anyway. We have a fair few helpers from the main dorms. They do odd jobs for the houses, and we pay into a pot to cover their dorm fees. Everyone wins.”

Luke was awfully busy, with a dozen people waiting around his marble bar for their orders, but when he spots Keller, he immediately asks, “What do you need?”

Keller points to the two of us, standing on either side of him, with each of his thumbs. “The girls are already halfway done with their cocktails; and I wouldn’t mind one myself. You can make it all in one shaker, right? It’ll be easier to do all three at once.”

“You got it, let me just finish the couple of kir royales.”

I watch him serve the mix of crème de cassis and Champagne, pouring Moët and Chandon from a magnum bottle. “I’ve never had champagne,” I say idly.

“Luke, we have an emergency over here,” Keller calls. “This philistine needs Champagne, stat.”