By the time we'd finished the next round, the booth felt smaller.
Or maybe it was just Steven.
He had scooted closer to Emily with every laugh, every half-joke, every time she leaned in to whisper something that wasn't meant for me or Jason. I couldn't hear what they were saying—but I could see the way she smiled at him now, slower. Tilted. Her body angled toward him, elbow resting on the back of the booth, eyes locked on his mouth more than his eyes.
They were in their own little pocket now.
Steven said something low. Emily laughed, her hand brushing his arm for just a second longer than casual.
I blinked.
It didn't bother me.
Not really.
I just... noticed.
Jason leaned toward me with a lazy grin, his fingers tracing the rim of his shot glass.
"Looks like those two already know the drill."
I looked at him.
He wasn't teasing. Not exactly. Just observing—with that smug, half-drunk confidence guys get when they think the game's turning in their favor.
I raised a brow. "What drill?"
He smirked. "Come on, Claire. You know the vibe. Drinks, flirting, secrets passed between legs under the table…"
I didn't answer. I just took a slow sip from my glass and watched him over the rim.
He leaned in a little more.
"What about us?"
I tilted my head, lips curving into a small smile.
"Us?"
Jason shrugged. "You and me. We could make this an even split."
I glanced sideways—at Emily, who was now laughing at something Steven had whispered directly into her ear. She didn't look at me, but she didn't look uncomfortable, either.
I turned back to Jason.
"Is that what you think this is?" I asked, voice low.
His smile faltered for half a second, then returned—slower this time.
"I think it could be. If you want."
My heart thudded, not from nerves.
From curiosity.
And something darker.
Power.
I rested my hand on the table. Not moving it closer. Not pulling it away.
"That depends," I said softly.
"On what?"
I leaned forward just enough for him to hear me over the music.
"On how well you behave."
His breath hitched.
And beside us, Emily laughed again—closer now, quieter, the kind of laugh that told me she was also enjoying where this night was going.
Where we might let it go.
Steven said something to Emily—low, right against her ear.
Whatever it was, she didn't laugh this time.
She just looked at him.
And then she kissed him.
Right there in the booth, in the middle of the pub, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Her hand slid to the back of his neck. His arms circled her waist. Their bodies angled in, pressed together at the side. Her lips moved slowly over his, mouths opening just enough, heads tilting. It wasn't rushed. It wasn't desperate.
It was hungry.
I didn't realize I'd stopped breathing until I blinked and felt the heat pool between my thighs like it had been waiting.
I watched her fingers curl in his hair. His hand slid down to her hip.
And I watched the way her mouth moved—wet and slow, tongue flicking out just enough to taste him.
God.
My stomach clenched. My thighs pressed tighter together under the table.
Jason hadn't said a word.
But I could feel his eyes on me.
I turned.
He was already watching me—elbows on the table, chin in one hand, lips parted like he was about to say something and forgot what it was.
His gaze flicked from my mouth to my throat, then lower.
"You're into that," he said, voice quiet.
It wasn't a question.
I didn't answer right away.
I just looked back at Emily—at her flushed cheeks, the way she bit Steven's lip before breaking the kiss, her breath visibly shallow even from here.
I turned back to Jason and said,
"Aren't you?"
His smile curled slow and crooked.
"Oh, very."
My heart pounded louder than the music.
And my body was already saying yes to a question no one had dared ask out loud yet.
I didn't know who moved first—me or him.
One second, Jason and I were just breathing in the same air, and the next, his lips were on mine.
Warm. Firm. Unapologetic.
I kissed him back hard, tilting my head, letting my mouth open for him. Our tongues slid together fast, tasting like vodka and heat and want. His hand came up to my cheek, then slid down to the back of my neck, holding me like he'd been waiting all night for permission.
The kiss wasn't sweet. It was raw. Messy. Our teeth clinked once, and neither of us cared. My hand curled into his shirt, pulling him closer.
His other hand grazed my thigh under the table, and my breath caught.
I was burning.
So was he.
We were seconds away from not caring where we were.
Until—
"Ahem."
Emily's voice cut through the haze.
I pulled back from Jason, lips wet, heart pounding, still holding his shirt.
She was standing now, flushed, eyes glassy, Steven right behind her looking equally dazed.
"I think we should go pay," she said, voice low but clear. "And… maybe get out of here."
She glanced around the room—the music, the crowd, the people definitely watching us now.
"It's getting a little... public."
Jason wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, still breathless.
Steven straightened up, nodding immediately.
"Yeah. Yeah, good idea."
Emily looked at me, and the look in her eyes was pure fire.
"Let's go somewhere more private."
I swallowed. My legs ached just from how tightly I'd pressed them together. I nodded.
"Our place?"
"Perfect," she said.
We slid out of the booth, Jason and Steven tossing bills onto the table without a word. No one made eye contact with the bartender. No one even finished their drinks.
We just walked.
Two girls. Two boys.Four bodies magnetized toward the same inevitable, breathless conclusion.
And as we stepped out into the cool night air, our hands brushed again—hers and mine.
And I knew.
This wasn't going to stop at teasing.