"I don't see the reason to pussyfoot around it," Jax waved the bartender over, ordering three shots for both. Tequila, Skyy, and Chartreuse. The bastard Irish flag, or something like that.
"If this isn't enough to blast the morbid out of us, I don't know what is," Raising the tequila first, she toasted Becca before drinking it down.