Before she could shoot back with a witty retort, he'd gone and used her old nickname. She bit her lip, some of the playfulness draining from her expression as she sat beside him. "I-- sorry, but no. My dad always called me that, so it's kind of a... thing."
Claire didn't let the homesickness and nostalgia linger, however, instead quickly reaching for the bottle of vodka as he offered it. Her fingers nimbly unscrewed the top, but she paused before lifting it to take a drink. The cuddling sounded appealing. She'd been thinking it when she first saw him and it was nice to know he'd be down for it.
"Cuddling doesn't sound too bad," she said coyly. "I haven't really, uh, done anything with a guy in a while." That much was the truth, at least. There had been a couple guys on the road, one who had stolen her heart for a night... but she didn't want to think about that. Not now.
Finally Claire took a long gulp of the vodka, trying not to make a face. She'd done some drinking, of course, even though it had no effect on her, but straight liquor was still something she had to get used to. The tequila in Mexico was bad enough, somehow the vodka seemed worse.
Part of her thought maybe she should tell him that she couldn't get drunk, but she refrained. She liked him and she didn't want to make things weird so soon. Plus, she could have a bit of fun with him, first. "Tell you what. You get me drunk tonight and I just might consider hopping on." Claire had no intention of doing any such thing, and since she wouldn't get drunk anyway, he didn't have to know that.