Leandro broke his attention with the guys again when Kyle seemed unfazed, not at all stifling a big old joke yawn. He smiled over at Wren fondly; her secret boldness was really starting to earn his admiration. Plus, that blush was adorable. Somehow, she managed to almost, maybe, sort of, sometimes, just a slight bit make him feel bad for his wicked ways. Letting her get drunk was going to take a monumental effort in maintaining a nasty demeanor. Perhaps a prayer to Satan, even.
"It's alright, I got this," he told the other two briefly. "I'll take care of her." To Wren, he added, "Guess it couldn't hurt. You have friends watching. Here--"
Busily, Leandro moved into action, scanning all of the bottles he had behind him. He was no trained bartender, but he'd been drunk himself plenty of times in his life to have a basic understanding of what went together and what didn't. He settled on two bottles, bringing them over and getting one of the more elegant cocktail glasses with a long stem. It was a simple creation, just a couple of splashes of white chocolate liquor to one splash of melon liquor, shaken lightly with ice and poured into the glass. When it was done, it was a pleasant powder pink color. He pushed it toward her with another one of his irrepressible grins.
"Here you go. You might find this more to your liking, sweetie. Not so hard on the gut. It's called a butterfly, so you can float rather than... ah, crash. Heheh."
To the guys, he rose a brow and added, "What can I get for you two? Whiskey? Martini?" With eyes drifting toward Kyle, he grew more mischievous again. "Cape Codder? That looks like you, baby blue. Come on, don't be a square. You know square pegs don't fit in round holes." For emphasis, he playfully stuck his thumb into his mouth and let it "pop" out suggestively.