“All right, ten shots of tequila. Whoever passes out or pukes first loses. Got it?”
Gains cracked his knuckles. “Got it. You ready to lose, Winchester?”
She gave a short bark of laughter. “I’m ready to peel your sorry ass of the floor when you lose, if that’s what you mean.”
He downed the first shot in an overly showy gulp. “The only person who’s losing is you.”
Four tequila shots in Gains hit the floor.
Winchester shook her head and laughed. “One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor.”