The tequila barely burned as she swallowed it down, just a slight tingle in the back of her throat and a trickle of warmth through her veins. It tasted like memories, both good and bad. Like long nights, conversations, and moments like this.
“That’s not true,” she replied, her amusement evident in both her voice and her eyes. “Not all Greeks are promiscuous. Take your sister, for example.”