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“Where are you going?”
“Not far.”
Without drawing attention, I shrugged him off and moved away, not looking back to see the murderous expression he must have had on his face.
Away from them, I finally felt like I could breathe.
I went over to the bar, which was close to where they stood, and ordered the best of whatever they had on the menu.
Lemon drop shots, the bartender called it. And after careful consideration, I asked for three.
I wasn’t even certain I could stomach one, but taking three didn’t sound so bad at the moment.
The buffy bartender pushed three pink crystal shot glasses to me with a wink and went over to the side to serve another person.
From where I stood, I could see Egor. And he saw me, too. His gaze from across the room swept over me, leaving an electric shiver—hot and clearly lustful. The worst part was…I didn’t feel as repulsed as I rightfully should have. Knowing he wanted me stirred an excitement that buzzed between my thighs.
Or maybe it was the anticipation of having three shots of the vodka in front of me.
Tearing my gaze away, I lifted one of the glasses to my lips. In went the first one. Sweet, sour, and tart. I shut my eyes and hissed through clenched teeth.
The initial sweetness hit my taste buds first, followed by a wave of citrusy sourness. Then, the vodka kick came next, leaving a slight tartness and a refreshing aftertaste. It was similar to sucking on a sweet and sour lemon candy but with a grown-up twist.
“I could get addicted to this.”
“Wait until you try red-headed slut.”
My head snapped to the silvery voice, and I was surprised to see an actual redhead leaning across the counter with an empty glass. Her smile was radiant, illuminating her face and making her blue eyes sparkle like sapphires.
I moved closer with a smile of my own. “That’s the actual name?”
“Uh-huh.” She beamed and shot a sultry smile to the brunet working the bar. “Carvill makes the best ones. Wanna try some?”
I stole a glimpse at my unfinished two glasses. “Maybe some other time?”
“Nope. Not taking it. No one says no to Rosalyn.”
“No one,” the bartender concurred with a concupiscent glance of his own.
“Live a little.” She handed me a green crystal glass, and Carvill filled it. “You’ll thank me later.”
I fought my concerns and swallowed everything with a mouthful.
“Shit!” I hissed.
Shit!
Like the lemon drop shots, the sweetness hit first. But an herbal and bitter note followed after. I tasted a bit of cranberry in the mix, which left a fruity and slightly tart aftertaste.
But, God, it was strong.
She laughed at my scrunched-up face, adjusted her mini dress, and extended a hand. “If you keep it up, you’ll get used to it. I’m Rosalyn.”
I coughed and chuckled. “I figured. No one says no to Rosalyn.”
“That’s right.” Her eyes twinkled. “Rosalyn Gallagher always gets her way. Especially when you have a brother that spoils you silly.”
My smile faltered when I heard her last name. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that a Gallagher would randomly be attending a fundraising event with Yezhovs swarming the area.
