“Not really my scene.” I’d spent most of my college years trying not to let grief swallow me whole. I’d seen what happened when you used alcohol to numb your pain—it became a crutch while it wrecked your life from the inside out. So, I’d stayed busy. Taking as many classes as I could handle, getting a part-time job. The only thing I’d drawn the line at was joining clubs. I wasn’t exactly a group activities kind of person. I’d stuck close to my comforting circle of Bell and Caelyn, and when Caelyn had to drop out at the end of our junior year to take care of her siblings, it had just been Bell and me. I’d been more than fine with that. I didn’t need a bunch of casual acquaintances. I only needed my tight-knit crew of three.

“Kenna?”

I started at the sound of Bell’s voice. “Sorry, what?”

Concern flashed across her features, and I fought the urge to wince. The last thing I needed was Bell worried and hovering.

“Which drink do you want to try next?” she asked.

I forced a smile, only I could hear Crosby’s voice in my head talking about my real smile, the one I rarely let out. The damn man could see right through me. The knowledge had me wanting to shore up my walls. “You pick.”

Bell looked up at Ford. “What do you think?”

“Scotch.”

“You’re mean,” she chided.

“Why is that mean? Is it awful?” My gaze jumped from person to person.

“Never had scotch?” Crosby asked. “It’s one of my favorites.”

I scrunched up my nose. “You like that god-awful Guinness, so I’m probably going to hate this.”

Bell pushed a glass with amber liquid forward. “You could always hold your nose while you try it.”

“No way,” Crosby interjected. “That’s cheating. She has to taste everything.”

I sighed and picked up the glass. I sniffed. Not appetizing. But I was no chicken. I took a sip and immediately spit it back in the glass. I whirled on Crosby. “That was disgusting! Are you trying to kill me? That tasted like rubber that had been set on fire.”

Crosby chuckled. “It’s an acquired taste.”

I lifted the Cosmo from the bar and took a sip, trying to rid my mouth of the awful taste. “Nothing else that tastes like the fires of hell, please.”

Ford grinned, shaking his head. “I think that was the worst.”

My eyes narrowed on him. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you’re the one who picked that drink for me. I’d watch my back if I were you, Hardy.”

Ford placed Bell in front of him like a shield. “Call her off, Trouble.”

She winked at me. “Now, why would I want to do that?”