Yelena took the bottle back, this time allowing herself to relish in the chilly feel of his hand. She wrapped her lips around the mouth of the bottle and chugged. Whereas she normally preferred the clean sharpness of vodka, she enjoyed the earthy oaky bite of the whiskey. Somehow she thought she could enjoy the rich layers of flavor better in her current state.
Sharing drinks like this, touching her lips to where Will’s had touched, was perhaps the closest she could come to kissing him right now. And that frustrated her. “That’s their own fault. Dipshits, ruining our date night,” she said huffily, holding the bottle out towards Will again.
“I didn’t want to leave you. After I woke up back in my room, I came out and looked for you. Went back to that alley. Even my extra good nose couldn’t turn up anything useful.” She paused, looking at him and frowning. “You said the infections don’t mix well. What did you mean? What happens?”