18
“Do not open that bottle of champagne,” Ian said, lunging for Trihn across the cellar.
Pop.
“What did you say?” she asked coyly.
“My mom is going to kill me.”
“Your mom won’t even notice,” Trihn insisted. She pressed the bottle to her lips and tipped it up in the air. “Oh my God, this is so good.”
“Well, enjoy it. It’s the last thing you’ll ever drink.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“It’s her favorite!” He winced.
“Then, I guess we have to drink the whole bottle before the party and stash the evidence, huh?” she asked. The logic seemed sound to her.
Ian gave her a skeptical look but took the bottle when she passed it to him. There was no going back now. They couldn’t recork the bottle or anything at this point.
“You’re going to be the death of me.” But he drank from the bottle withou
