Book 17: Is She a Witch or Something Worse?

Posey

“Here.” Aris slides a glass of purple-hued liquid in my direction. Fizz lifts off the round balls of ice within, and it smells like juniper and lavender.

I immediately wrinkle my nose. I enjoy the occasional glass of wine, but I’ve never been one for hard alcohol, even during my college days.

“Don’t worry. I know you don’t like liquor” Aris leans against the railing overlooking the lower level of the bar, where a live band sends a screeching rock melody through the venue. “It’s a mocktail. There’s nothing in it but soda water and flavor.”

I arch a brow. “You’re not drinking either?”

He shakes his head once, lifting an identical drink to his mouth. “Nope. I think I’ve drank enough for an entire lifetime while the boys were here. I want to be clearheaded going forward.” His gaze