His Best Friend's Sister

“You know,” Melissa said, “usually I’m the kind that would be embarrassed by ruffling that many feathers, but that was kind of a rush.”

I laughed. “You rebel.”

The throwback music was thumping so loudly it was hard to hear but that just added to the atmosphere. All around us, the eager revelers had turned out to put the entire decade of nineties fashion on parade. They sang the familiar old songs at the top of their lungs and danced like they had never left the middle school dances.

“Thank you for smuggling us in,” she said to Tyler.

He reached for a glass and grinned at me. “Perks of knowing an owner.”

He gave me another smile before turning his attention back to making us drinks. I watched him, noticing how well time had treated him. Tyler had always been attractive. I’d known him since I was far too young to notice guys, but as the years passed, I noticed him more and more. I was still a young teenager when it really clicked how much the girls ogled him and that I was ogling right along with them.

He had always been Nick’s best friend. But then he became something more. It had been a while since I saw him, and now I could see he was just going to get better with age. Six feet tall with a fit, muscled physique, dark hair, and big, chocolate brown eyes, he was more than enough to keep me entertained for a long time, even if the bar stayed between us. He was so sexy I would be happy just to watch him like a TV show.

When he was done with the drinks, he slid one in front of each of us. I looked down into my glass suspiciously.

“What is this?” Melissa asked, likewise staring into her glass beside me.

“We brought the nineties theme behind the bar tonight, as well,” Tyler said. “All about old-school cocktails. So, for you, a Slippery Nipple. And for Becca, Sex on the Beach.”

“Ah,” I said. “The nineties. The years when all drinks became about sex.”

“Everything was about sex,” Tyler said, winking at me before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Holy shit,” Melissa said, laughing.

“What?” I asked. “Is it strong?” I took a sip of my drink and shrugged. “I mean, there’s definitely some alcohol in there, but I’ve had stronger.”

“I’m not talking about the drink,” she said. She took a sip of hers. “Holy shit.” She nodded and pointed at her glass. “Alright, that one was for the drink. I don’t know what’s going on in your glass, but this one might need an octane rating.”

I reached for her drink and took a sip. It made me cringe, and I fought the urge to cough at the burn of the alcohol ripping down my throat. “Wow. This one makes mine look like Hawaiian Punch someone poured in a glass that used to have liquor in it. Maybe he’s trying to get you drunk.”

“If that’s the case, it’s just so he can have you all to himself,” Melissa teased.

“What?”

She looked at me incredulously. “You can’t seriously not have noticed. He is flirting with you.”

“Who?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes and gestured to the kitchen. “Tyler. Tyler is flirting with you.”

I shook my head and took another sip of my drink. “No, he’s not. We’re just old friends.”

“I don’t have any old friends who would wink at me like that after giving me a drink called Sex on the Beach,” she said.

“I’d hate to hear what you think he’s trying to tell you by giving you a Slippery Nipple,” I shot back.

“Me too,” a voice said from behind the bar.

I looked up and saw a familiar face smiling at me.

“Ava,” I said, smiling back.

“Hey, Becca. I heard you were back in town.”

I knew Ava in a tangential sort of way. She was a little older than me, but we sometimes ended up at the same parties and gatherings in high school.

We spent the next little while talking with Ava and catching up on her life. With help from Melissa, I checked in about most of the people I remembered from high school to find out what they were up to now. Some of their relationships and the events in their lives sounded like much more of a soap opera than I would think boring little Astoria, Oregon, warranted. But it made for good conversation.

Soon the cocktails kicked in with the help of a second round, and Becca and I hit the dance floor. We laughed and sang as we danced, not caring what anyone else thought or what they were doing. Tyler kept our stools at the bar reserved so we could go back whenever we wanted to for gulps of water or snacks from the baskets and platters he kept putting at our places.