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Chapter Sixteen | The Luck Of The Half Irish
◦◦ Sawyer ◦◦
Forty Five Minutes later
“You sure you’re ready for this, Sawyer?” Blythe challenged with a competitive smirk over the club’s blaring music almost an hour into making each other’s acquaintance. Positioned between her thumb and forefinger was a simple glinting quarter I’d happily provided at her request, which she prepared to spin on the marbled counter in front of our eyes. “We’re neck and neck...this is the deciding game; Remember what’s at stake!”
Oh, I hadn’t forgotten and was looking forward to emerging victorious.
Most of the crowd malingering around from earlier dispersed onto the epic dance floor or elsewhere entirely, leaving Blythe and I pretty much alone—inches away from touching elbows and partaking in several outlandish drinking contests. In between, we'd been discussing her exciting life in Brooklyn and the beauty of Classical music.
Secretly, I used to love when m
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