“Hey Chance?” Matt says.
I look up.
“It’s a stag party, not a funeral. Smile or something.” He laughs.
“Isn’t it pretty much the same thing?” I ask. “Once Seb gets married, his life is pretty much over right?”
This gets a chorus of cheers and a laugh from Sebastian.
I grin and tell myself to forget work, just for a couple of days while we have the stag party and then get the wedding over with. I can always catch up on work and now isn’t the time for work. It’s the time to be a good brother. I get back up to join the others where they’re still crowded around watching Matt and Sebastian play their drinking game.
It’s a good thing we have a private jet, because I don’t think a standard airline would take too kindly to this game. The only rule seems to be to sink as many shots as possible.
“What are they playing?” I ask, taking in the piles of shot glasses and the bottle of half gone Tequila.
Mark laughs. “I don’t think it has a name. Maybe it should be called alcohol poisoning or something. They have to build a pyramid out of shot glasses. The first person to do it wins and the other one has to drink five shots of Tequila in a row.”
It didn’t look quite as lethal as I first thought, now I know most of the shot glasses are just being used as building bricks.
Matt puts his hands in the air and cheers when he sets his final shot glass on his pyramid and it doesn’t fall over.
Sebastian groans. “Remind me again, why I suggested playing this. I suck at it.” He laughs.
“Shut up and drink.” Matt chuckles.
Sebastian shakes his head. “I’ve already lost two rounds. I won’t see Vegas at this rate.”
“Drink, drink, drink,” the guys begin to chant.
I find myself joining in with them.
“Okay, okay.” Sebastian grins, holding his hands up in surrender. He downs the shots one after the other, wincing after each one. He gets to the last one, looking like he’s about to throw up. He chases it down with half a bottle of beer and moans loudly when he’s done.
This gets him a round of cheers from the guys. He gets unsteadily to his feet and stumbles towards the bathroom.
An even louder round of cheers rises up with some laughter and clapping. It’s obvious what he’s going to do as he disappears into the bathroom.
Matt gets up and puts his fists in the air. “Reigning champion. Who’s next?”
“Me,” I say, surprising myself.
“No way!” Matt scoffs. “You’ll be able to have the pyramid built in seconds. You do this all day every day.”
“I’m an interior designer.” I laugh. “What part of that involves building pyramids out of shot glasses?”
“Ah, you know what I mean.” Matt grins. “Building stuff, designing stuff. It’s all the same thing isn’t it?”
It’s not even close and I doubt for a second I would beat Matt at building the pyramid, but I’m not bothered about winning. I just want to get a bit tipsy and get into the same high spirits the others are in. “Okay.” I grin. “How about we just pretend we played and you won and I’ll drink the shots?”
“Really?” Mark says, raising an eyebrow.
“Really,” I confirm as I sit down.
Bradley grabs five shot glasses and begins to fill them up with Tequila. He’s onto the fourth one when Sebastian comes back out of the bathroom.
He still looks a little bit white, but he looks a damned sight better than he did before he went into the bathroom.
“Are you okay?” Matt asks him.
Sebastian laughs and nods. “Tactical heave. Bring it on.” He picks up his half empty bottle of beer and starts drinking again, barely even slowed down by his throwing up. He spots me sitting at the table with the shots in front of me. “Wait. You played?”
“No,” I say shaking my head. “The reigning champ here was afraid to take me on. So, I thought I’d just down the shots.” I didn’t wait for Sebastian’s reply. I pick the first shot up and down it. The Tequila tastes pretty awful, bitter, but I swallow fast and feel the warmth as it spreads through me. I chase it down with the next one and the next one until I’ve drained all five. I smile up at the others.
They are watching me in a state of shock.
“What?” I ask.
Rick laughs. “You didn’t even flinch.”
“You said you couldn’t drink shots,” Mark adds. “But seriously, you’re on fire.”
I correct him. “I said I don’t drink shots. Not that I couldn’t.” Considering how little I go out, I actually have a surprisingly high tolerance for alcohol, I just don’t like drinking shots. It seems so frat boy. Immature and not my style at all.
“Chance’s way too grown up for shots.” Sebastian chuckles. “He’d much rather have a good glass of red wine.”
Actually, I’d rather have a good glass of rum or brandy, but he’s not completely wrong.
“Yeah, a stag night is kind of wasted on Chance,” Matt agrees.
“You don’t say,” I agree. “I did say I would be perfectly happy not to come.”
“Don’t start with that shit again.” Sebastian laughs. “We’re family. That means you have to show up.”
“I did show up,” I remind him. “But you can’t pull the family card. You let Dad off the hook.”
“Well yeah, because he’s Dad,” Sebastian replies. “You really think he’d follow the what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas rule? He’d spend the next lord knows how long reminding us of every stupid thing we say and do tonight.”
“True,” I say.
“Anyway, Vegas is hardly Dad’s scene is it?” he adds.
“It’s hardly my scene either,” I say.
“Yeah, but you only think you’re ancient and past it. You’re twenty-four, start acting it.” Matt laughs.
I snap. “Just
