For a second, I worry I might have read him wrong, but then a reluctant smile spreads over his face.

“I mean, as long as we’re not leaving right away.”

Then, we lose him as he dashes through the archway, back to the sea of dancing bodies.

“Good team effort! Now, maybe he won’t die from stress overload.” Jasper settles onto a free stool at the bar. “So, what made you choose that drink for Sammy?”

“Easy. Tequila, for the dancing. Delicious fruity disguise, so he doesn’t realize how drunk he is until it’s already happened. And by then, he won’t care.”

Jasper lets out a roar of laughter while Ben chuckles into his closed fist.

“You’re like a bartender therapist. But, seriously, Holly, you’ve gotta let me pay for the drinks. You really don’t owe me for the car.”

I shake my head. “Stop it, Ben. You’re not supposed to refuse gifts. And, now, it’s your turn for a drink!”

“Don’t worry about me.”

He’s gone stiff, and I think I know why.

“I’m not going to give you alcohol. And don’t worry; I don’t imbibe either. Making sure I’m handing off quality equipment.” I wink at him.

Jasper snickers into his whiskey.

Ben’s smile returns, but he still shakes his head. “I’m a tough customer. Don’t think you can read me as easy as Sammy.”

The gauntlet has been thrown.

I lean over the bar and whisper to him, “Silly Ben. Haven’t you figured out yet that I know exactly what you need?”

BEN

Holly’s flirtatious whisper has me discreetly adjusting myself. I can’t tell if she knows the effect she has on me.

At first glance, Holly is an enticing combination of sweet and cute. Then, she takes a string of words that should be innocent and makes them sound like a promise of naughty things to come. Pair that with the fact that she’s basically saving my life, and I’m having a hard time with not lusting after her.

Some part of my brain shouts at me that pursuing my donor is wrong. It’s a very minor part, and the pounding music from the next room easily drowns it out.

I watch as Holly creates what she claims to be exactly what I need. I hope she’s right because I doubt I could decline anything she went through the effort to create.

First, she brings out a stone bowl and fills it with some green leaves, which she grinds up with another stone implement. Then, in one of those drink shakers, she pours in water from a newly opened bottle and then squeezes in a bit of lime. Holly shakes the container with a few flourishes.

“It’s more for the effect.” Her smile is cheeky, and I don’t know how every guy in this bar isn’t lined up behind me, clamoring for her attention.

Holly scrapes the mashed leaves into the same type of glass she served Jasper’s whiskey in. Then, taking a shot glass, she fills it to the brim with her water-lime mixture, pours the liquid over the leaves, and repeats the action once more. Apparently, this is the end product because she adds a sliver of lime to the rim and pushes the concoction across the bar to me.