Inside Spirits Bar, the atmosphere was thick with a haze of dim neon lights and the low thrum of bass-heavy music. Laughter and chatter bounced off the walls, mingling with the clink of glasses and the occasional holler from tipsy patrons. In a cozy corner of the bar, four women perched on high stools, radiating confidence, mischief, and undeniable sex appeal.
Jay, the ruggedly handsome bartender with rolled-up sleeves and forearms that could star in their own fitness commercial, placed four filled shot glasses in front of them.
"Ladies," he said with a smirk, pushing the glasses toward them.
"To bad decisions," Shanaya grinned, reaching out for hers.
The others followed her lead—glasses raised high. "Kick it in the ball!" they shouted together before throwing the shots back. The tequila hit hard and fast, heat blooming in their chests.
Jay wiped a glass behind the bar, eyeing them with amused skepticism. "Still don't get that one."
"It means don't ask questions unless you want the real answer," Shanaya said, licking a bit of salt from the side of her hand. "Lime me."
"Too strong for you already?" Jay teased, tossing her a lime wedge.
"That went down smoother than my ex's half-assed apologies," she shot back, catching it mid-air.
He smirked. "Respect."
"I know what I want," Mia said, her voice thick with flirtation, her eyes locking onto Jay's, "but the question is... will you give it to me?"
The girls howled.
Jay just chuckled, tossing a small metal bowl of lime wedges across the counter. "Easy, Terminator. You're scaring the locals."
Alicia fluttered her lashes, lips painted a glossy cherry-pink, and leaned in with deliberate sweetness. "Jay, sweetheart… can I please get my Pink Lady now? I've been so good."
He raised an eyebrow. "No sissy cocktails, Alicia. You know the rules."
She pouted like a spoiled debutante. "What if I like drinking like a dainty little slut?"
"Then pick a stronger drink, dainty slut."
Emily, already a few sips in and looking delightfully buzzed, banged her glass down. "Okay, okay—can we get back to the real juice here?"
She turned to Shanaya with full attention. "So… the hot dog. The long conference table. What happened next?"
Shanaya took her second shot, the corner of her mouth curling up.
"Then I came," she said simply
Emily blinked. "That's it? No orgy? No whipped cream surprise? I was hoping for Roman bacchanalia."
Shanaya just shrugged and downed another shot like a champ. "Sorry to disappoint."
"Seriously, Em," Mia cut in with a grin, "ever heard of Pornhub? It's free. And sorted by genre."
Their laughter bounced off the walls like high heels on marble.
Emily threw her hands up. "Look, I'm a single mom. I barely have time to pee alone. I'm just trying to live vicariously through all your degenerate adventures."
Alicia leaned over with a knowing smirk. "Speaking of which…" Her eyes sparkled. "How was your appointment with the oh-so-handsome Dr. Drew?"
Shanaya smiled into her lime. "Now that... is a story."
She straightened up and began casually, "So I'm lying there, legs wide open, obviously."
Emily let out a giggle-snort. "Classic porn intro."
Shanaya ignored her. "And I'm lying there thinking… does he know how sexy he looks bending over like that? Because that man's tongue? Unusually long. Like, prehensile long."
"Oh, god," Mia muttered, biting back a laugh.
"So now I'm wondering, does he like going down on women? Like, enjoys it? Because I swear, the way he was talking—so gentle, so focused—and then BAM, I feel this thing. Like a clamp. Or was it his fingers? I don't know. But they were long. Like... guitar-player long."
"What did he say?" Alicia gasped, eyes wide with anticipation.
"Yeah," Emily added breathlessly, "what did he do?"
Shanaya drew it out, letting the tension build before sighing dramatically.
"He told me…" She paused.
The girls waited, breath hitched.
"To take a bath. Three times a day."
Silence. Then—
"Wait, what?" Emily cried.
"Like… with him, right?" Mia asked, raising a brow. "Because I volunteer as tribute."
The table burst into laughter, heads thrown back, drinks sloshing over the rims of their glasses.
******
Later that night, the scene had shifted. The rooftop of the bar was quieter, the city humming below like distant thunder. A soft breeze danced over their bare shoulders as the girls lounged around a circular table, half-empty wine bottles and cigarette packs scattered across its surface.
Someone passed a cigarette. Another poured a drink.
Then Alicia, with all the subtlety of a firecracker, dropped her bombshell.
"Okay, bitches. Get your lehengas and dresses ready. End of the year, I'm getting married."
Three pairs of brows lifted.
Shanaya sat up straighter. "Wait—what? Did you even find a guy?"
Alicia took a long drag before answering. "Mom's tarot card reader says I'll find him by Christmas. Stars are aligned and everything."
Mia coughed through a mouthful of smoke. "You're trusting your future vagina-owner to a woman who flips cards?"
Alicia rolled her eyes. "I'm not buying a car, Mia. I'm getting married."
"Yeah," Mia said, waving her cigarette, "but for the love of orgasms, please lose your virginity first. Just one test drive. That's all I ask."
Alicia narrowed her eyes. "Do whatever you want with your life. But can we stop obsessing over mine? Especially my private parts, thank you."
"Alright, alright," Mia muttered, mock-saluting.
Shanaya flicked ash off her skirt. "But seriously, Aly… you made a whole wedding resume. If you poured half that effort into, I don't know, your career, you'd be unstoppable."
"What's the point?" Alicia shrugged. "I'll just have to leave everything after the wedding anyway. So…"
Emily downed the last of her wine and leaned forward with a bitter smile. "You know what the number one cause of divorce is?"
Alicia blinked. "What?"
"Marriage."
The girls laughed, but there was something heavy behind Emily's voice. Something real.
"My advice?" she added, "Don't."