"Of?"

"Of things to fix for you being twenty-one."

She frowns. "I don't need fixing."

"Well, so far, we've got 'never had s.e.x' and 'doesn't know her drink'."

She glares at me.

"We're working on the first, and I think good ole' Milton might play a big part."

Eva groans and drops her face into her hands as I grin.

"So let's work on part two. You've drank before right?"

"Of course," she says quickly.

"Of course?"

"I mean, sort of."

"Please tell me I didn't give you your first beer the other night."

She smiles. "Oh, no."

"Good."

"My second."

I whistle lowly. "Well, s.h.i.t. This is bigger than I thought it was. What about hard liquor?"

"I had plum wine when I was in Korea?"

"Right, that's a no." I sigh, rubbing my hands together. "Let's stick to something light then."

"Why?" She walks over to the shelves and starts to run her fingers over the bottles. "This looks good." She pulls a bottle of scotch from the shelf.

I laugh. "You've got good taste."

"So, this is it?"

"It's scotch."

"Never had it. Let's try it."

I eye her, furrowing my brow. "Everything okay?"

"Yep!" she says quickly. "I just- c'mon, let's try some."

I shrug, grabbing two gla.s.ses. "All right, screw it."

I pour her a tiny, tentative sip.

"You act like I'm going to hate it."

"Try it first."

Eva picks up the gla.s.s, and immediately wrinkles her nose as she sniffs at it. "It smells like dirt."

"That's sort of the point."

She shrugs. "Well, here we go then." She tips the gla.s.s back, downs the scotch, and immediately starts to cough and wheeze.

Her face turns red as she chokes and sputters, and I chuckle as I come around and pat her lightly on the back. "You all right?"

"Holy s.h.i.t," she wheezes.

"Yeah, how'd that go?"

"I think I always thought it was going to taste like b.u.t.terscotch."

I cringe. "Okay, well, that's setting yourself up for failure."

"Right, so, not my drink."

"I think we can agree on that." I put the cork back in the $300 bottle of liquor.

"So what's next?"

I eye her again. "Why don't we stick to beer?"

"I'm not a little kid you know."

"No, you just have the drinking experience of one."

She makes a face as she goes back to scanning the shelves. "How about this one?"

"That's gin."

"And?"

"Yeah, we're not giving you gin."

She groans. "Oh my G.o.d, you're impossible."

"Go ahead and trust me on this one, okay?"

She turns back, her hand coming up to push her hair back and tuck it behind her ears in this adorable and yet totally hot way.

"What about..." she traces her fingers across the bottles on the shelf, my eyes dancing over her.

G.o.d she looks good.

Not in a s.k.a.n.ky way like the girls I usually bring up here either. She just looks good. Wholesome good.

This is a new thing for me.

"How about this one."

"You're picking on labels aren't you?"

"Well, yeah."

She holds up the bottle of tequila.

"Tequila."

"I can read."

I grin. "All right, f.u.c.k it. Let's try it."

I grab a fresh gla.s.s and pour her another small one.

"Oh, hang on." I stop her before she can take the gla.s.s and grab a lime from the fruit basket on my counter and a knife from the drawer. I slice her off a bit.

"Chase it with this."

"Chase it?"

"Bite the lime after. And don't shoot it this time. Just take a sip."

She picks up the gla.s.s. "Cheers." She sips, her eyes water, but she bites the lime.

She grins.

"Okay, that's my drink."

I laugh. "That quick, huh?"

"I could get used to it."

"Oh, wonderful. Your father will shoot me."

She giggles. "Oh, he would if he knew I was here."

I freeze. "Wait, what?"

She laughs. "Sorry."

"Where does he think you are?"

"Making hymnal copies at your dad's office up at the church."

I groan.

"He wouldn't actually kill you," she says with a laugh, picking her gla.s.s up.

"Comforting, thanks."

"Are you having one?"

"Well, I've got a southern preacher who may or may not come looking to shoot me for corrupting his daughter's mortal soul, so, yeah, I think that calls for a drink."

She laughs as I grab another gla.s.s, spill some tequila into it, and cut off another slice of lime. "Slinte."

"What's that?"

"Cheers. It's Gaelic."

She grins. "Well, slinte, then"

We clink gla.s.ses and take a sip.

Eva clears her throat. "So, I actually came here to start."

My brow perks up. "Start?

"The lessons," she says quietly.

Aaaand my c.o.c.k is hard. Rock. f.u.c.king. Hard.

"This why you wanted a drink."

She blushes. "Liquid courage."

"Well, s.h.i.t." I sigh, taking another big sip of tequila. "Well, c'mon then." I jerk my head away from the kitchen counter and lead her into the living room area by the window. "Couch. Sit." I grin. "Cla.s.s is now in session."

She grins at me curiously before smoothing her dress down and sitting.

Suddenly, this feels like a high school date, not like the kind of dates I usually bring here. The dates I bring here are already on my lap, or bent over with their panties around their ankles.

Not her.

"So, lay it on me."

She looks at me nervously. "Just... go ahead?"

"Any question."